Chapter 3, Part 2

Portrait Of My Desire
by Rhonda Findling

(Page 6 of 11)

David listened to Susan drone on and on about some modeling assignment she had in Mexico. Margo, who worked at the same modeling agency, seemed to be interested in Susan's story. David had slept with Margo a few months ago following a casual dinner in a new French restaurant that had just opened. Despite her cold unavailable demeanor she eagerly accepted David's invitation to his apartment. He was disappointed when they made love and she lie motionless on his bed as if she were doing him a favor. He wondered if Margo thought that her beauty was enough to excite a man. But looks wasn't enough to keep David interested. He preferred women that were responsive and passionate. Even though he never called Margo again, she was all over him since he arrived at the party tonight.

Unable to listen to Susan's self absorbed monologue anymore, he excused himself escaping to the bathroom. He took out his vial and a little gold spoon, inhaling some coke through each nostril. He leaned against the wall enjoying the rush. Then he took a sip of scotch and water and left the bathroom. Carefully he scanned the crowded room, when suddenly he saw her. Who was she? She didn't look like one of the models from the agency. Somehow she resembled his sister Rifka, who he still thought of everyday even after all these years. He had to go over and meet her.

Oh my God, that gorgeous man talking to the two women is actually coming over here! Sharon looked the other way, not wanting him to notice she was staring at him. He was standing right next to her now, ordering a drink from the bar.

"Great song," she heard him say.

Realizing they were the only two people at the bar, Sharon knew he was talking to her. She tried to respond but couldn't seem to get any words out. She could actually feel her blood racing through her body. " Yes, I love this song," she said, looking up at him shyly. "Frankie Vali is one of my favorite singers."

"Sounds like we have something in common," he said smiling at her.

"Guess so," Sharon responded, smiling back at him for a moment, then nervously looking away.

"I'm David Kaplan." He held his hand out to her.

"I'm Sharon.... Sharon Walters," she said tentatively, extending her hand to shake his. The mere touch of his hand felt warm and wondrous. His handshake firm and confident.

"It's nice meeting you Sharon." His hand lingered on hers for an extra moment. "Are you here by yourself?"

Okay, calm down, calm down, and just answer him. Don't let him see that you can barely hold it together she told herself. "I'm trying to find my sister, Nina, and Ned Miller. He's the lawyer representing this modeling agency."

"Sophisticated Beauty?" David asked.

"Yes. Sophisticated Beauty Incorporated. Are you one of their models?"

"No," David grinned. "But thank you. No one ever thought I was a model before."

"Oh, I thought maybe your were a famous actor or something." Trying to calm herself, Sharon drank the rest of her wine in one big gulp

"I'm just a boring old attorney. But thanks for the compliment." David laughed, charmed by Sharon. "Are you from New York?"

"Is it that obvious that I'm from out of town?" Sharon answered, feeling more confident from David's attention.

"No. I was just wondering."

"I'm from Wisconsin. I just moved here a few weeks ago."

"I represent a company from Green Bay. In fact I've been there a couple of times on business. Actually, I just got back from Toledo."

"What kind of law do you practice?" Sharon asked, even more self assured from drinking the wine so quickly.

"Cooperate law mergers and acquisitions." He pulled out a business card from his jacket and handed it to her.

Sharon studied the card. "Mills, Mills, and Cohen."

"They're one of the best law firms in the city," David said, then launched into a detailed explanation of this work. Sharon tried to pay attention but was too nervous to follow everything he said.

"What brought you to the big apple?" he asked, snapping her out of her daze.

" I'm studying at the Art Students League."

"So you're an artist, that's interesting. What kind of art?"

"Painting. I'm a portrait artist."

"I bet you're very talented."

Sharon felt herself blush again.

"I'm terrible at drawing myself but I've always wanted to be a writer. Actually there's a novel I've had in mind that I always wanted to write."

"Really, about what?"

"My family," he answered, hesitating for a moment. "My parents were in a concentration camp, and I was hiding with my sister during the war. I want to write about everything that happened to us."

Sharon was stunned that he had gone through so much. "How come you never tried to write about it?"

"I work around 80 hours a week. I don't have any time to write a book right now."

"Wow. That's a lot of hours!" Sharon exclaimed. Suddenly her wine glass slipped from her grasp. "Oh my God, I am such a klutz! I can't believe I just did this," she said, when she saw the wine dripping all over Nina's pink angora sweater.

"Don't worry, I'll get something to clean it up," "David replied, and left.

David found some paper towels in the kitchen above the sink. Looking into the living room he saw Susan who was smiling at him from across the room. He smiled back feeling a pang of guilt for leaving right in the middle of a conversation. But he wasn't Susan's date.

He saw Sharon still sitting on the chair looking so lost and vulnerable, and wanted to get back to her. There was something so adorable and down to earth about Sharon that he found so appealing. She certainly wasn't the kind of women he usually dated. He never even knew an artist. Most of the women he got involved with weren't very creative or deep for that matter. In fact, some of them were pretty damned shallow. But he could take pride in the fact that almost all of them were knockouts. Sharon wasn't a knockout, but she was very cute. Actually pretty was the right word to describe her, in an innocent kind of way. Sort of like his sister Rifka. Even after all these years he could still remember how pretty his little sister was with those beautiful violet eyes. Yes, that was it. Sharon and Rifka both had beautiful violet eyes.

Sharon noticed that David was watching her closely as she wiped up the wine from her skirt. She wondered if he was evaluating her clothes, thinking that they were plain next to the high fashion clothes the other women were wearing.

"Don't be so self conscious, okay?" he said, as if he could read her thoughts. She looked up feeling faint at the sight of his warm, deep brown eyes, with lashes so long they were almost feminine.

"So tell me more about the Art Students League. I've never even heard of this place."

While Sharon told him about her classes, she couldn't stop herself from wondering why he was staying with her for so long. Why he didn't go back to the beautiful models?

As if he could read her mind he said, "I really like talking to you Sharon." Overwhelmed by his words, Sharon could barely look at him.

He gently lifted her chin.

Sharon could barely breathe now as she looked directly into his eyes. Her body was on fire from the mere touch of his hand.

"You're a very pretty lady." His voice was deep yet soft.

She couldn't believe he said she was pretty. The pianist began to sing "We've Only Just Begun".

"Dance with me," he said extending his hand to her.

As if she were in a trance, Sharon took his hand and followed him to the terrace where another couple was dancing.

He held her to him now, body to body. It felt so thrilling being in his arms. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She glanced up at him as they moved slowly, in rhythm to the music. He was looking down at her, with a serious, intense expression. He gently pressed her to him. She would never in her whole life forget the moment his lips touched hers. It was as though an electrical current shot through her. Waves of desire rushed through her body making her dizzy.

"No . . . no . . . stop please. I'm sorry, I have to go."

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I . . .I just have to go," she said, pulling away from him. She found her coat on a couch and left quickly, totally forgetting all about Nina and Ned.

About the Author

www.rhondafindling.com
Rhonda Findling, M.A.,C.R.C. is the author of "Don't Call That Man! A Survival Guide To Letting Go" (Hyperion), "The Commitment Cure" (Adams Media) and "The Dating Cure" (Adams Media) and her debut novel "Portrait of My Desire". She is a dating coach and psychotherapist. She has been in private practice in New York for the past 20 years and consults (by telephone) with clients all over the world.