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Cut Like Glass
Chapter Four

Chapter Four

FOUR

“I’m Bart Camphor. I’m a banker. I work down the street at the Millennium Banking Network. I see you’re new to the area. I’d like to show you around.” He put out a hand as if to shake hers.

She took his hand like it was a snake and held it cautiously.

“How did your job interviews go?” he asked, keeping the conversation neutral.

“I got the job I wanted.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s at a floral shop down the hill called Buttonhole Bouquet. I’ll work as a florist. I’m really looking forward to working with plants instead of animals and getting the first choice of the best flowers when they come in,” she said slowly like she wasn’t sure if his interest was sincere. “What do you do exactly?”

“I’m an investment banker, so please don’t lump me in with financial planners. I only handle people who are millionaires several times over. I invest my own money too, so stacking money is my hobby, hence the limo and the house from the other night.”

“I don’t remember the house clearly,” Maisie admitted. Her eyes widened. “I thought I was in front of a hotel.”

He smiled. “What a compliment! Would you like to come out for a visit?”

Maisie looked at him sideways. “Not today. You know, you weren’t kidding when you said your bank was just down the street. I can see a sign advertising it from here.”

Bart got out of his seat and moved behind her to see her line of vision. Being so close to her, he looked down at her and breathed in the fresh scent of her hair. “I really messed up today,” he said from his position, leaning against the balcony railing.

She looked up at him.

“If I retreat for today, can I take you for lunch sometime next week?”

A wicked gleam entered Maisie’s eyes. “If you’re looking for a way to make it up to me, and convince me of your finer points, I have a really good way in mind.”

Bart smiled back. He was a complete sucker for the look she gave him. It was exactly the type of look he always wanted to see on his woman’s face.

***

Maisie loaded garbage into the back of Bart’s car. Bart had a car with a clear stun factor. It was an Audi R8, black and glossy and so beautiful from the side, he had almost cried when he bought it. At least, she wasn’t loading black plastic bags. She was loading stuff that had to be taken to the eco-center: old appliances, loose cardboard, and several boxes of glass bottles. So, there was no risk of any of it oozing out onto the interior, which made the whole ordeal a lot more comfortable for Bart.

Apparently, she had moved to Victoria with the intention of giving up her car and she had already sold it to a friend of hers from up island, but that meant she didn’t have anyone to do an errand like an eco-run for her.

Bart looked at the state of her shed. She still had more that needed to go and the back of his car was full.

“I have a truck,” he suddenly found himself offering. He never drove it into Victoria if he could help it. “I could come by with it on a different day and take the rest of this.”

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The stars in Maisie’s eyes could have lit up a stadium. “I’d love that, but speaking of today… Can I come with you to the eco-center? I want to see how they sort things and what they’re willing to take. I also need to find out their fees and pay them. Afterward, we can get a bite to eat down by the waterfront. My treat? You know… if you don’t have any other plans.”

Bart had never had a date where he went to a garbage dump before. Everything was new to him, but he was willing to entertain pretty much anything if it meant staying with her.

The entire experience was different than it would have been with another woman. Maisie changed into jeans and a yellow spotted shirt that buttoned up the front. She tied the tails into a knot at her waist, pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and discarded her mules for Converse All Stars that were old and stained. Bart hadn’t been on a date with a woman who dressed like that since high school.

While they drove, instead of playing the music he normally played, Maisie had programmed the directions to the eco-center into his GPS and kept the music off in order for him to hear them more easily. Privately, he lamented the loss of the music. It really set the stage in that it was almost classical, but very definitely synthesized. But what stage was he trying to set? He wasn’t taking her to a show or even dinner. He was having his car weighed because the eco-center asked for payment by the kilogram.

As he watched Maisie add her glass bottles to the recycling, he wondered if this was what it was like to be married to a woman. He never ran simple errands with his dates. That was the kind of thing he’d do by himself the weekend after a love affair ended.

Afterward, Maisie directed him to the waterfront where food trucks were set up, and took him for fish and chips. There wasn’t an official place for them to sit, so they sat on a set of stone steps in front of the harbor. Boats bobbed and the setting sun lit up the sails like he was looking at the real-life image of a puzzle he’d put together as a child.

“You really helped me today,” she said sweetly. “Just like you did last weekend with my bruised head and the trip to the hospital. If you tell me what day you’re free to come with your truck, I’ll drop everything to accommodate you.”

He nodded, a little lost for words. If they did exactly the same thing the next week, it would be a better date because he would remember to keep his foot out of his mouth.

The whole thing was weird for him. Their elbows brushed as they ate and he counted the calories he’d have to work off at home on the treadmill after he dropped her off.

Normally, he’d have paid for an expensive restaurant. In the perfect restaurant, he’d sit across from his date and he’d have a moment, a realization that he never told anyone. He wasn’t attracted to the woman he was with. She was boring him. What she wanted was boring. It was always the same situation even when it was a different woman. Yet he had to do it that way. He had to play the game or… what? What would happen? He wouldn’t be the lone wolf he reassured himself he was?

He glanced at Maisie. She wasn’t like the other women. She wasn’t interested in his house. Her interest in his car had nothing to do with what it looked like or how fast it could go… unless it was on its way to the eco-center. She wasn’t even interested in him. She hadn’t even given his shoulders the usual looks women usually gave him, even when he was at work. Something about her didn’t make sense. The line she used about only wanting to live in her aunt’s house couldn’t be the whole truth. What did she really want?

“How’s next Saturday?” he asked. “I am free then.”

She smiled. “Text me with what time you want to go.”

“Anytime.”

“Oh, then I’ll have you come at three.”

***

Bart drove home with the music he normally listened to turned off. His house was a mansion up on a mountain range outside Victoria. It was a status thing. He could easily afford it, but it honestly was not the easiest place in the world to commute to and from each day.

It was about status.

It was about how his family felt when they drove up and saw the iron gates at the base of the driveway. It was about how the women friends they brought salivated and gasped, “He’s single!” Sometimes he brought people from work home to show them a good time and add an unnamed kind of sparkle to life.

It was about cultivating a world that was all about him and the pleasure, prestige, and comfort he brought to everyone he associated with.

He had thought his life was perfect, but he saw at once that Maisie had something he didn’t have. Was it possible that he had something she didn’t have as well?

When the time was right, he’d invite her home to his house and introduce her to his family. She’d see his wholesome side immediately and warm up to him.

That had to be true because he knew that side of him would not work with his average date. Maybe it would work on Maisie.