It has often been the case that the men I fall for, enter my life, long before we ever date. This did not happen with my x husband, which should have been a sign, but I believe he entered my life to donate the sperm to create the love of my life, my son, Brian. It only mattered that he showed up, found me sexy and gave me the best gift any man has ever given me. For this reason I can't hate him. Brian is half his father and I adore Brian, so as much as we all hate to admit it, and as much as I do not like my x, I have to love at least half of my x husband, because my dream, Brian, is half his.
Today was the R___A golf tournament, I should back up a piece and tell you about J___ the artist, and how we originally met. As a wholesale loan executive, we often have to knock on many a door when building our business. It is referred to as "cold calling", and every saleperson I have ever known hates this part of building business. If we stick to it, this exhausting perserverence eventually pays off in big numbers.
SP is an account who's door I have been knocking on for two years. The staff and I click, I like the loan officers, but for some reason we have never been able to close a loan. I eventually stopped cold calling and moved on to other offices. If they don't deliver I have to move on.
One sunny fall day I decided to stop by again. I park and go revisit the account. They had remodeled their office and it was beautiful. Really beautiful - like a newly remodled home. In many of the offices there hung these museum -type paintings, so expressive they took my breath away. They looked like something Picasso would paint. I stopped at one and became overwhelmed with emotion. I could not take my eyes off the painting. I was in love with this artist's style. Who is this?
As I stood trasfixed in front of this particular painting, another loan officer spoke "You like that?" "I love it", I replied. "J___ painted that. He is an artist making money as a loan officer, but that is his first love" the loan officer answers. "He is amazing" I softly reply. "Yes he is" he sounds back. He continues, "He sits in front of where you are standing, but he is not here yet today". I stare at this artist-loan officer desk. Such an odd combo I think - an artist and sales. Oops, that's right this also describes me. I leave my flyers and go about my day.
About three weeks later I get the strong feeling to go back there again, and as I pass their office I decide to I stop by. The staff is amazing and kind, they recognise me and yell "Where have you been?". "Busy" I reply. "Well they are all in today - good luck". I laugh and understand their comment. All the loan officers are in, which is a rare event. They are busy. I will be here a while.
I speek with 4 loan officers before I finally approach "his" desk. I have no idea that he is the artist, but when he looks up and our eyes meet, I like him - instantly. If God could create a creature that is all about kindness and roll it into a ball, and place it for safe keeping in someones eyes, then I do believe he or she chose J___'s eyes - the artist. They are that piercing kind that look into your soul and leave you feeling naked.
He has several loans for me to look at. I stand looking down, completely nervous, and breathe his intensity through my nose and it makes me high. I take out my cat eye glasses for I am blind to read small print without them. He smiles, as I know I now look like a librarian. "Are you the artist?" I ask. I already know the answer is yes. "Why? Do you like them?" he smiles and looks up at his painting. "I love them", I reply. "Then they are mine, how are rates today? Please sit down Catherine." My name rolls off his tongue like he has been saying it for years.
I quote the loans. He tells me about his paintings. I tell him about my furnature and interior decorating, about my secret garden for Brian and my wall of wishes. I tell him about my painting. We talk art, relationships, kids and loans. He is hanging on my every word, and I am looking at his 6'2" frame in the chair. Damn he is beautiful, both inside and out.
I am thinking that I hope my son turns out like this man. I need to leave his office and catch my breath. I hand him back his files, say thank you and leave. And so I go on with my everyday crazy life. I put J___, the artist, on the back burner. He calls me about 5 months later to ask about a loan scenerio. We talk art, his paintings, being single, our kids and the mistakes we have made in relationships. A continuation to our last conversation as if we last spoke 5 minutes ago. I don't think we discaussed a loan scenerio...
The following week I stop in their office. He is not at his dask, so on a whim I take out one of my flyers, draw a quick rose and sign my name. I leave it on his chair, visit the other loan officers and leave. Again, my life moves on...to today.
It is known that the Karvey flower or Strobilanthes Callosa in the Botanists, is a purplish blue flower with a tinge of pink and blooms only once in eight years. Some days are like this floral miracle, you go along with your life, sometimes for years, and then everything pulls together into one glorious bloom. Today was just that day.
I am Spain on the 8th hole of the golf tournement. Yes, the country Spain. It is raining, and windy but this does not detur this golfing bunch of real estate people. As Spain, we are giving away towels, water, Red Bull and Spanish snacks. I am having a blast. I so need this.
All my girlfriends minus 3 are there. Up rolls three golf carts. It has been raining men in golf carts since I arrived. I forget its cold and begin to flirt. Six guys get out. There is the one, tall dark and handsome. He looks at me and smiles. "Hello Catherine," he says ans smiles. For a second in his cap standing taller than me, I have no clue who he is. He winks. I think, "Who are you?" Then it hits me...its John - the artist loan officer. God he is cute. "Well Red," he says "How are you?" he smiles, "I was hoping you'd be here" I smile, turn away and ignore him. I figure I will be setting him up with a single girlfriend. Then its his turn to put, and he yells, "Save a dance for me later" I wave as they drive away. Did he just say save him a dance?
At the end of the tournement there is the awards dinner. I sit with 6 of the most beautiful women in real estate. Men are everywhere, and up walks J, he takes the seat next to me. "Catherine, how are you? Did you know that you interest me? How is that furnature painting going? I want to see it, but first, I have to get to know you if you will let me" Damn he is so cute and I have been having waaayyy too much fun. "Can I watch you paint?" I ask. "Maybe Catherine, if you behave" I just love this kind of teasing. I look at him, wink and ask him if he will ever paint me nude.
We talk for a while and I am thinking how delicious he looks and how much I like the way he looks at me. He is very kind and has a gentle but direct approach. It has been a long time since a man has treated me this way. We girls know the difference. I see how much he likes me in his face and it is sincere and I am enjoying this. I feel safe. It is flattering, and I like him. I then dance with friends and loose sight of where he has gone off to. (Ok phone calls from girl posse next day reveal that I danced with him and he was quite smittin - I danced with a lot of people - I guess we had great fun). As I wander gathering my stuff to leave he walks up and says "Will you walk me to my car - it's not safe out there". Cute.
I'd gladly walk him to his car, since I am worried that he would somehow see the inside of my truck which looks like my son and I live there. He laughs and says "Ok, come on walk me safely to my car. No man inhis right mind messes with a redhead and I would feel safe". I laugh. I just love the way he looks at me. What a guy. But damn am I not going to fall for him. No way. I walk him to his car. It is a sports car.
I look in. It has leather seats. Sh** leather seats - my weakness. "Catherine, can I do to get to know you?" he smiles, moving closer into my space. "Take me out on a date and a long drive in your car. I miss that more then I can say". "When?" he asks, and starts naming off all his free nights in the next week. "Friday. I would like a Friday night date. I also miss Friday night dating". "How about going out as soon as I am off work Catherine? We can go out to dinner on the coast. How does that sound? Is that a long enough drive?" I love the way he mocks me back...very sexy. "It sounds perfect" I reply. "God I want to kiss you Catherine" he says. He moves closer as I gently lean back against his car.
Frankly, I am dying to stick my tongue in his mouth, but suddenly he matters to me. I look up and sigh, "You haven't earned it J". My mind is thinking NO NO NO KISS HIM YOU NUT. I have never said this before to any man. I just love to kiss - see what they are like. Many men are crappy kissers. They kiss like they probably clean a toilet. But I just know J___ will be good. For some unknown reason his opinion of me suddenly matters and I want him to crave me longer. This time, for the first time, I want to handle this guy right.
He is within inches of my face. I want to devour him, but I won't. I have to do this right. Again he says "Please let me kiss you" "No J you didn't earn it" I whisper. I lean up kiss his lower lip slightly, blow a soft breath and walk away waving. Good lord he is looking at my ass. He yells from behind "Catherine, I will see you Friday. I will call you Monday or Wednesday before we leave." he yells. I laugh. "Night J___". "Night Catherine" I am high.
I am pinching myself and cannot wait to sit acrossthe table from this man and hear his stories. Some days life is just beautiful. Like that flower that blooms once every eight years, my buds have just begun to open up. What a wonderful way to end a work week.
May all of you have blooming redheaded moments. Until next time...
C
PS. My imaginary lover is 6'2" and paints.
