Love Click - First Part Read online

wet touching my right toes. It was definitely not too bad, but it was a very strange feeling. It was also oddly familiar. Then it all got really weird. I heard strange noises in the background. The darkness amplified it and fear really got hold of me. I sensed movement in the darkness.

  What the hell is going on here?!

  A million thoughts crossed my mind at the same time. Was Dennis a serial killer? Perhaps there were other girls strapped to surgical tables going through different phases of torture. Perhaps I was his next victim. Different weird thoughts ran amok in my mind until I calmed down. Dennis was not a serial killer. I was free. I wasn’t strapped or bounded. I was free to leave. All I had to do was switch on the light. I took a deep breath and turned the light on. There was a cat right beneath my feet. It was a little white cat and it was so cute. My face was about to break out into a smile at my silliness when I noticed a slight movement at the corner of my eye.

  I raised my head up and saw then, dozens of cats. They were all beautiful, individually, but the combination of them all was unbelievably scary. A scream almost escaped from my mouth before I controlled myself. I didn’t want to scare the cats. It occurred to me then that they probably couldn’t be scared. There were, at least, ten different breeds. There were a mackerel tabby, a classic tabby and a poor, one-eyed but huge, black cat that reminded me of a character in Pirates of the Caribbean. He looked like he was the leader of the pack if there was a thing like that. Another big cat was snoring quietly in one corner of the room.

  I calmed down and looked at the design of the room. It was conceived as a wellness hotel with a dining corner and fitness devices. However, they were all for cats. I felt a movement beside me, and my already overcharged senses flew into overdrive, there was a cat between Dennis and me on the bed!

  I had landed myself in a cat conservation …

  I started to find the whole scenario hilarious. I then understood that Dennis was indeed fond of cats; oh he was. Even a blind man could tell. I picked my way to the living room. That was when I noticed the cat food stocked on the shelf in the kitchen. There must have been at least fifty packs there.

  Dennis loved cats, a little too much. Love was probably a mild word to use; obsessed was more appropriate. I found my bag and eased out of the room. It was around 5:30 am by the time I got out of Dennis’s house. I changed apartments because that episode with Dennis really spooked me.

  I like cats; God knows I love them. What’s not to like? However, that was definitely too much for me. I learnt a profound lesson from that experience. Now I know I should refine my searching criteria on dating websites. Being a cat lover was not enough. Hell, from my experience with Dennis, it might even be too much! Sharon was right about one thing: I should find a man I have common interests with. These shared interests do not have to be restricted to a particular point. There are a whole lot of things to connect with a man over. I haven’t given up on online dating. I met Dennis, hadn’t I?

  And that had definitely been fun while it lasted. All I have to do next time is to refine my requirements in a man while searching …

  Well, perhaps a dog lover?

  Career Opportunity

  I consider sporting activities to be of the utmost importance. How else would my body stay fit and firm? I am a sporty, twenty-five-year-old lady. My name is Rita Temple. I grew up in Houston, Texas, but I have now relocated to New York City …

  I am stunning. Believe me, this is not narcissism on my part. Of course, I love myself, and I bet most women want to be me. If I were not me, I would definitely want to be. I am that awesome. I am fifty shades of amazing.

  Now, enough about my amazing personality and off the charts beauty.

  I work as a fitness trainer at a gym in Manhattan. My job is one that I endure, but I work mainly with women and most of them pay good money to find someone who will browbeat them into staying in shape. Some of them go as far as scheduling home sessions with me. While this job pays good money, enough money to allow me to keep a superior loft and buy a BMW, it doesn’t leave much time to meet the type of man I want to date. I couldn’t cut down my working hours; I had to find a way to get the kind of person I wanted without compromising my job.

  Therefore, I registered on a dating site to find a man for whom sports is as important as it is for me. I have always wanted to be in a relationship with a man who takes fitness as seriously as I do. I imagined a beautiful relationship where we would go on hikes together and work out in the same gym. I put up a profile using one of my best photo as the display picture. It was an unusually sultry one. My long black hair framed my face. I wore light makeup as always, and showed my washboard abs to perfection. I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone was interested. I put up a profile and described the qualities I wanted in a prospect.

  As expected, someone indicated an interest in my profile within a couple of hours. He sent a message and I checked out his profile. His name was Boris, and his profile picture looked exactly like what I was looking for. He had the crew cut blonde hair and green eyes that I like in a man. He wore a blue T-shirt over a pair of jeans and the shirt displayed his well-toned body to advantage. I wanted to meet this guy. We began to chat and it turned out he was pretty funny, too. He seemed absolutely perfect, and I was excited.

  After chatting for about a week and having gotten to know each other to an extent, we made plans to meet in the food court of a shopping mall. I saw him from afar, and I was so excited. He walked up to me and gave me a really tight hug.

  “Hey babe, it’s great to finally meet you.”

  “Hi Boris, the pleasure is all mine,” I replied.

  I was really intrigued by him. I thought, wow, this is a real man!

  I could see from his firm but delicious hug and the muscles I felt that he definitely wasn’t relaxing in the fitness room. Hombre was built! Every muscle was perfectly defined, and I got the distinct impression that he must have a yearly ticket to the tanning salon. His skin had the perfect tan. That type of tan didn’t come from the sun.

  I was starting to daydream about all the fun we were going to get to have together if things worked out between us.

  We found a seat and just smiled at each other, then he threw his car keys on the table between us. My eyes had widened for a split second before I controlled myself. It was the ignition key to a Porsche Cayenne. This man must be loaded! I was getting more interested in him by the second. Soon, the waitress came around,

  “Good afternoon. What can I get for you?”

  Boris replied, “I’ll have a protein shake, thank you.”

  I smiled to myself; as expected, he was staying healthy. That was just like the fitness buff I was expecting. This man was not going to disappoint me. The waitress turned to me and I ordered cherry juice.

  Then he began a story that was very warped, real, annoying, and at the same time intriguing.

  “I have not had a girlfriend for two years now,” he said.

  “Three years ago, I had a girlfriend. She was a beautiful black girl. Her name is Natasha. She was just eighteen and was so very stunning. I loved to spoil her and I wanted to show her a great time, so I travelled with her to Switzerland. I wanted to show her the amazing blue lakes surrounding the scenically high mountains covered with sparkling white snow.

  I showed her the high-priced villas, the glamorous hotels and the fancy designer cars of their clients. Wealth was observable everywhere in the country. In this unimaginable paradise, I managed to find a job for my Natasha. She became a nightclub hostess.”

  I was confused. That was a job description? It must have shown on my face, because Boris hastily described what he meant. He waved a hand in the air and said,

  “In Switzerland, they don’t call things what they really are. They are really fond of euphemism over there.”

  Oh, ohhh. The wheels turned in my head, and I understood what he was talking about. I got it then. Of course, a nightclub hostess means an executive escort.

  “Yes, indeed,�
�� I said and smiled tightly at him.

  “This was a gorgeous job, darling’ … she earned 5000 Swiss francs for me per month. I have always dreamt about a Porsche Cayenne and with her help, I was able to make the deposit. I could take it from the dealer immediately. I think it was the happiest day of my life.”

  He smiled widely at this and I could see that he was really proud of the Porsche and probably couldn’t imagine losing it.

  I was bummed. This was a really strange situation. I had gone down to that food court for a date and there I was, listening to the fairy tale of a body builder. It was surreal and a little annoying. It was also quite impressive, so I let him continue. I was curious and wanted to see where the story would end …

  “Two years ago,” he continued, “something changed. She stopped sending me money. Natasha had fallen in love with an Italian drug dealer and everything started to collapse. I began to have financial problems and I couldn’t pay back the loan I took out on the car”.

  I stared at him in wonderment. What type of man was this? What do his troubles have to do with me? This was supposed to be a date, not a session with a therapist. At this point, I noticed a teardrop roll down his face. Lord!

  I was curious about something. “How did you spend the last two years?” I asked him.

  He looked at me for a long time, stretched his legs out