Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (12 page)

“Yeah, the ASU alumni association is having a tailgate!” said Lauren.

“We are not going to the ASU party!” said Darren.

“Come on, free beer and sausages!  How can you pass that up?”

“Kielbasas?”

“I don’t know?!  Sure, yeah, kielbasas!”

“If they’ve got kielbasas we can stop by, but only for a little bit.”

“Come on, get your lazy butt up off the couch and let’s go already.”

“Hold your horses, I want to see the end of this drive!”

On the TV, Amanda saw the Ohio State quarterback drop back and loft a pass into the air.  In the back of the end zone a receiver stretched his arms skyward, catching the ball with his fingertips and pulling it in.  “Touchdown, Ohio State!” the announcer called.

“Ok, can we go now?” said Lauren.

“Damn, you really want those kielbasas, don’t you?” said Darren.

“You’re the one obsessed with kielbasas.  I just want to get there before the parking lot fills up.”

Darren picked up the remote and flipped off the television.  “Fine, let’s go.  My boys should just be getting set up by now anyway.”

“Should we be bringing anything?”

“Nah, they got it covered.”

“Ok, whatever you say.  See you later Amanda.”

“See you guys.  Have fun,” said Amanda.

Darren hopped to his feet and followed Lauren out the door.  Amanda stayed where she was, quietly finishing her bagel.  She was in the clear to duck next door, but now that she could, she wondered if it was actually such a good idea.  What if he was still asleep after a big night out?  What if he had another girl in there?  Amanda glanced at a clock on the kitchen wall.  It was just past ten a.m.  That wasn’t too early, was it?  Eventually her insecurity was overwhelmed by her fervent curiosity.  Amanda quickly finished her bagel.

As soon as she stepped out her front door, Amanda’s blood pressure rose.  She moved down the landing and around the corner toward Peter’s apartment.  His curtains were pulled shut, but as Amanda walked past his front window she heard the same football game that Darren had been watching.  “Penn State football on the twenty-five yard line.  The Nittany Lions are going to need some points on this drive if they hope to get back into this game,” said the announcer.  At least Peter was awake.  Amanda stepped up to his door and gave a light knock.  She waited.  No response.  She tried again, louder this time.

“Who’s there?!” Peter shouted from inside.

“It’s me!  Amanda.  From next door!?”  She waited a little bit longer before the door swung open to reveal Peter standing before her in a T-shirt and boxer shorts, his hair a mess, a glassy look in his eyes.

“Hey.  Oh, wait, hang on.”  Peter must have seen something in Amanda’s expression.  He looked down at himself and then back up before closing the door again.  Amanda stayed where she was, laughing lightly to herself.  “I’ll be right back!” Peter shouted.  When he opened the door again he’d put on a pair of faded jeans.  “Sorry about that.  What can I do for you?”

“Um…”  Amanda wasn’t sure what to say.  She hadn’t thought that far ahead.  “I heard the game on.  I just thought I’d see what was up.”

“Oh yeah?  You’re a football fan?”

“Yeah, I love football.”

“Ok,” Peter seemed a little bit surprised.  “You want to come in and watch the game?”

“Sure,” Amanda replied.

Peter stepped back to let her pass.

“Thanks.”  As Amanda crossed the threshold, she felt like she was entering the lion’s den.  She half expected the skanky-looking girl from the previous week to be there but as Amanda took a quick look around the room, it appeared that they were alone.  Unless the girl was in the bedroom.  “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Amanda asked.  “I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“No, it’s not a problem.  Can I get you some coffee?”

“Sure, if it isn’t any trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”

The telecast switched from the football game to a truck commercial.  Peter picked up the remote from his couch and pressed the mute button as Amanda moved on into the apartment.  The layout was identical to Amanda and Lauren’s place, only in reverse, with the kitchen on the opposite side.  The biggest difference was that Peter’s place was much better furnished.  Where Lauren’s place was more like a student’s apartment, with mismatched thrift-store furniture, Peter’s place had style.  He’d obviously put some money into it, and some thought.  His couch was an upholstered grey sectional with matching chair.  Parallel to the couch was a black enamel coffee table with a few large photography books resting on top.  Instead of worn carpet in the living room, like in Lauren and Amanda’s place, Peter had a polished wood floor with a white plush rug in the middle.  A clean black shelving unit on one wall held small sculptures and oriental artifacts.  The television was mounted on a wall above an entertainment system.  Speakers were located in all four corners of the room.  Any remaining wall space was taken up with Asian wood-cut prints in black wooden frames.

“I like your place,” Amanda said.

“Thanks.”

“Sort of
Mad Men
with a Chinese flavor.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“You’ve got a thing for the Asian stuff?”  Amanda took a step toward the shelves, examining an intricately carved jade egg and a set of small porcelain tea cups with a matching pot.

“I lived in Hong Kong for a couple years.  I picked up a few things over there.”

Amanda was impressed, though she tried not to show it.  She’d never known anybody who’d “lived in Hong Kong for a couple years.”  It sounded so exotic…  “What were you doing over there?”

“Working.  My company sent me there.  It was good for a while.  I was ready to come back, though.”

Amanda followed Peter into his kitchen.  “I’m not keeping you from the game am I?” she said.

“You probably care more about this game than I do.  I was just kind of channel surfing.”  Peter pulled a pot from his coffee machine and took two mugs down from a shelf.  He placed the mugs on the counter and poured in the steaming hot coffee.  “I don’t know about you, but I can’t drink it without milk and sugar.  I know that makes me some kind of a wimp, but there it is.”  He got a carton of milk from the fridge and took down a bowl of sugar from another shelf.

“Milk and sugar are good.”

“So what are you up to on this glorious day, besides watching football?”

“Nothing much.  I have to go to work in a little while.”

“On a Saturday?  That’s terrible!”

“Oh, it’s ok.”

“I hate having to work on weekends.  Unfortunately it happens far too often.”

“Where is it that you work?”  Even as Amanda posed the question, she was fearful that he might ask the same in return.  What would he think to find out that she was a lowly waitress at a hamburger joint?  Normally admitting as much wouldn’t bother Amanda, but Peter had a way of making her feel particularly uneasy.  It was his good looks and nice clothes, his fancy furniture and sophisticated lifestyle.  He had a job that sent him to far off locales like Hong Kong.  How could she tell him that she slung burgers for a living?

“I work at Griswold-Mackenzie.”  Peter stirred his coffee.  “Though I suppose that doesn’t mean much to you.”

“What is it, a law firm?”

Peter laughed.  “No, I’m not a lawyer.  It’s a VC company.”

“VC?”

“Venture capital.”

“Oh.”  Amanda still didn’t quite understand.

“We invest in start-ups.  Mostly tech.”

“So you’re like a bank?”

“A little bit.  We fund companies in their early stages, but usually for an ownership stake.”

“Whose money is it?”

“Not mine.  I’m just a junior associate.  I research companies and make recommendations.  Luckily I’ve steered them to a few winners.  A few losers, too, but they haven’t fired me yet.”  Peter sipped his coffee before asking the dreaded question.  “What about you?  Why do you have to work on a beautiful Saturday like this?”

“We don’t need to talk about me.  My life is boring compared to yours.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“It’s true.  I never do much of anything.”

“Come on…”

“You’re the one who always seems to have something going on.  What did you do last night?  I’ll bet you went out on the town and had some big adventure, didn’t you?”  Amanda hoped her ploy to steer the conversation away wasn’t too obvious.

“My night was about as boring as they come,” Peter answered.  “I went to a club with some friends but the music was terrible and the crowd was worse. I was home in bed by two o’clock.”

“You see?  That doesn’t sound boring at all to me!”

“What did you do?”

Amanda was flattered by the way he looked her in the eye, tilting his head slightly sideways as he waited for an answer.  “I didn’t do anything.”

“You had to do something!  Even if you just read a book, or sat on your couch.  Come on, what was it?”

“I had Chinese takeout with some people down in Markus’s apartment and then we played some stupid game.”

“What game?”

“Dixit.  Have you heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“Actually, it was kind of fun.”

“See?  I bet you had a lot more fun than I did!  How do you play Dixit?”

“You can’t really care about that.”

“No, I want to know!  What kind of game is it?”

Amanda took a moment to decide if he was serious or just putting her on.  His interest did seem genuine.  “There are these weird cards with funny pictures on them.  I can’t really explain it.  If you want, maybe you could come and play with us some time.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” said Peter.

“No, I guess not,” Amanda conceded.  “Maybe some time when Lauren isn’t around.”

“It’s not just Lauren.  I think she’s turned everyone in the complex against me.  I’m surprised she hasn’t turned you against me, too.”

“She’s tried.”

“So why are you still talking to me?”

“I like to draw my own conclusions.”

“And have you drawn any so far?”

“No.  I don’t have enough evidence yet.”

“Well, try not to judge me too harshly.”

“I’ll do my best, though to be honest it doesn’t sound like you treated Lauren very well.”

Peter shook his head.  “I know that’s how she sees it.  The truth is, what she wanted I just couldn’t give.”

“And what was that?”

“Everything.  She wanted everything.”

“Maybe she thought that was what you were offering.  Did you ever stop to think about that?  Maybe not all of these girls you pick up are just out for a one-night-stand?”

“I’m starting to think she sent you over here on purpose.”

Amanda realized that this conversation was in danger of spiraling out of control.  “I don’t mean to be rude.  I know it’s not my place…”

“What exactly did Lauren tell you anyway?”

“Nothing.  Not really.”  The question was a test of Amanda’s loyalty, and she was not about to fall for it.

“I don’t believe that,” Peter added.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because if she told you the truth, I don’t think you’d be so hard on me.  Then again the truth is an elusive commodity when it comes to Lauren.”  Peter walked back into the living room with his coffee and took a seat in his chair.  He picked up the remote and turned the sound to the game back on.  Apparently he didn’t want to talk about the subject any further, though at this point Amanda’s curiosity was piqued.  She followed after him, cradling her mug.

“What’s your side?”  Amanda sat herself down on the couch.

Peter laughed.  “Do you really want to put yourself in the middle of this whole thing?”

“Look at me.  I’m sitting on your couch watching football.  I’m already in the middle of this thing.”

“I guess.”

“So what happened?”

Peter seemed loath to continue.  “Look, Lauren chased after me for nearly a year before we hooked up.  I never showed an interest.  I knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.”

“So why did you change your mind?”

After putting his mug on the table, Peter tilted his head back and looked at Amanda directly, as though daring her to challenge his account.  He took a deep breath and exhaled.  “She wore me down!  She’d hardly leave me alone!  At some point I just started feeling sorry for her…”

“You felt sorry for her?!”  Amanda couldn’t hide her disapproval.

“Yes!  I did!  I felt sorry for her!”

“So it was all in pity?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying.  It’s not like I promised her anything, though, ever.”

“But you slept with her!”

“That’s not a promise.  She might like to think otherwise, but it’s not.”

“And what about Samantha?  Did you feel sorry for her, too?”