“What’s your fantasy?” London asked. He’d called me moments ago to apologize for the other night.
“I . . . I . . . never thought about it. I don’t have one,” I lied.
“Of course you have. Everyone has. How did you imagine your first time? I’m a visionary person. Describe it for me.”
“You’re not interested in that.”
“Then why am I asking?”
“Well, I . . . um . . . wanted my first time to be in Aspen. We’d just come in from skiing and snow would have just begun to fall. He’d light a fire, and we’d drink hot chocolate and toast marshmallows by an open fireplace. Then he’d lay me down on an exotic rug and make love to me until the sun came up the next day. I’d feel safe . . . loved. We’d fall asleep in each other’s arms and in the morning he’d still be there.”
“That’s it? That’s your fantasy? There’s nothing complicated about that.”
“That depends on who the guy in the picture is.”
“Are you disappointed that the guy was me?” he asked.
“I have no regrets.”
“But are you disappointed that the guy was me?” he pursued.
“Shocked, not disappointed. I’m shocked, that’s all,” I explained.
“Fair enough answer. Listen, be ready tonight, same time.” Click.
London arrived on time with a beautiful arrangement of long-stemmed yellow roses.
“These are for you,” he said as he handed the bundle to me. “Yellow is for friendship.”
I grinned. “They’re beautiful.”
“Are you all right? You seem a little down,” he observed.
“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“Well, I was hoping that we could start over. Put on the brakes and slow it down.”
“I’d love that,” I agreed.
“Me too.”
“Did you know that the first home TV set was displayed in 1928 and the screen size was three by four inches?”
He chuckled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s just an interesting piece of information that not many people know about.”
“Well, let me thank you for enlightening me.”
“Are you humoring me, Mr. Phillips?” I asked.
“Only if you want me to.”
London drove us to 57th Street in his black Nissan Maxima. There he got out and blindfolded me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. As the silk scarf lay across my eyes and shut out the light, my adrenaline started pumping. The excitement was suffocating me, and I felt light-headed.
“I’m getting to know you better. I should have done this sooner.”
Holding my hand, London led me a few yards away from the car. He helped me to what felt like a carriage and assisted me up into the seat. I could hear a horse kicking its feet.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To Aspen,” he replied, and took off my blindfold.
We both sat back in the carriage and snuggled up underneath the blanket. I felt safe. The horse did a slow trotaround Central Park, and London and I had an intimate conversation.
“Jovie, why me? I keep asking myself that question over and over. If you’d waited so long, why not hold out for marriage, or at least the right guy? What was it that you saw in me that allowed you to give away something so precious to someone you just met?”
“It seems odd but I can’t explain it. I think I spent so much time guarding my heart and saving myself for the right person that maybe I realized the right person is who you make him to be. If I have a hundred years to ponder, I’ll never be able to explain my actions. But I swear to you I don’t have any regrets.”
“I’m glad you don’t have any regrets. But I would like to know what you are looking for. I’ve just come out of a long-term relationship where I was hurt. I’m not looking for anything serious. Just maybe a great friendship, and I don’t know if you can handle that.”
“Yes, she did.”
I tried to listen intently to London, but the rhythm of each trot from the horse distracted me. Cluck, cluck, cluck. . . . I counted each step. Refocusing my attention on London, I said, “Isn’t it usually the other way around?”
“No one is exempt from having their heart broken.”
“I’ll never break your heart,” I promised. He looked at me, then kissed the inside of my palm.
“You are so sweet, Jovie. I’m going to start calling you my future.”
I didn’t respond.
After the romantic carriage ride, we went back to London’s apartment. At his front door, again he blindfolded me and my heart raced from anticipation. Once we were inside his living room, he took the blindfold off. He’d set up my winter wonderland in Aspen. He had the fireplace going and the reddish-orange flames looked so inviting. He also had marshmallows, hot chocolate, and a snowflake shaker.
“Shake it,” he boasted. “That’ll give you your snowfall.”
I squealed with delight.
We sat down on the blanket in front of the fireplace and toasted marshmallows and drank hot chocolate. We talked until the sun came up, just getting to know each other. To my surprise London was a perfect gentleman. He never laid a hand on me. And when we awoke in the morning, London was still there holding me in his arms.