(Then) Brody

Denver

I was happy to go back to Denver and leave Miami behind.  When my dad had told me a former associate had contacted him about setting up shop in Denver, I volunteered immediately.  My dad sent me off with barely a wave or second glance.  Working for him had been trying, especially in the beginning, before I got into the habit of agreeing with him to his face and then doing whatever I had been planning behind his back.  He never even noticed, and happily took credit for all my hard work.

The worst was his insistence that we have dinner together weekly.  It wasn't long before he started bringing women with him.  They were generally closer to my age than his.  At least he could get women to actually go out to dinner with him, though. 

Anyway, I busted my ass for two solid months before leaving for Denver, getting things set up remotely.  I flew back and forth a few times too.  My dad came with me once I had narrowed potential office buildings down to three options.  He picked one, wrote the check, delegated office space, and was on his way back to the airport in less than two hours.  I did everything else, from hiring the decorators to picking out furniture to interviewing people.  I was only taking a handful of people from Miami with me, so we'd have the heavy task of training a whole new staff.

Once I was in Denver, I worked non-stop for 3 months.  6 or 7 days a week, at least 12 hours a day.  I lost myself in it, enjoying watching the branch rise from the ground.  Finally, things were taking off on their own, and I could start working a more normal schedule.  Our people were trained, and the clients were trickling in.

I was having some drinks with my coworkers one night when I ran into Dan.  I recognized him right away, even though I hadn't seen him since 8th grade.  We sat down and caught up a little, and he invited me out that weekend.  I agreed.  I hadn't seen anyone but coworkers and my mom since I moved up here.

That weekend, he took me out with some guys we knew from when I lived here, and some that I didn't know.  They were a hard-partying group, rivaling my Miami friends.  It had been months since I got laid, and it was easy to take women home when you could tell them ran your own company (a bit liberal, but I did run the company here) and could pick up the entire bar tab without batting an eye.  I didn't even have to rely on my old fall back of "My dad used to be an NFL cornerback."  Apparently, old habits are hard to break. 

When my dad flew up several months later to chew me out in person, I was irritated and spent a couple more months running around town, doing whatever the hell I wanted.  But one Friday morning, when I struggled to drag myself out of bed after a particularly hellish bender the night before, I realized that as much as it pained me to admit, he was right.  If I wanted to be successful, to buy a house, and to be an adult, I needed to act like one.

I started avoiding Dan's calls, and I called Kevin and invited him to come over and watch a game with me.  We reconnected and I started hanging out with him more.  His friends, who I had previously thought boring, were actually pretty cool.

One night, shortly after I bought my house, we were watching a Broncos game at a sports bar when a pretty blonde walked up and said hi to Kevin.  He turned to introduce her to me, but she interrupted him, beaming at me.  "Hi," she said.  "I'm Savannah."

"Brody," I replied, smiling back at her.  Savannah ended up sitting down with us and watching the game for awhile.  She was surprisingly knowledgeable about football, which I found attractive.  When she bought us a round of beers, I was sold.  Her friends left awhile later, and we invited her to stay with us.  She took us up on it.

When the game was over, she asked for a ride home.  After a short discussion, we realized her place was on my way, so I took her.   When I pulled up in front of her apartment building, she smiled at me and asked if I wanted to come in.  I briefly considered saying no, but she seemed so laid back, and she was pretty.  How do you say no to that?

The sex was nothing special, but Savannah was enthusiastic at least.  She didn't seem upset when I got up and left awhile after either.

The sex was better the second time, a couple weeks later.  We had run into each other again and one thing led to another.  I hadn't been expecting a repeat performance, and I didn't want her to think I wanted anything more, but it all just kind of happened.

When she sought me out a week later, inviting me to the bar to hang out with her and some friends, I said no.  I didn't want to give the impression that I wanted this to be anything more than occasional, casual sex.  I wasn't even totally sold on wanting occasional, casual sex with her, to be honest.  And anyway, I already had plans with Kevin and his friends.

My plans with Kevin and his friends happened to take me to the same place that Savannah was with her friends.  Seriously, could this city get any smaller?  We ended up combining our groups, and I struck up conversation with Savannah's friend Alex.  He was from the area and had gone to the school that would have been my high school's rival, if we had stayed here long enough for me to attend high school.  We ended up exchanging numbers and making plans to get the guys all together for some football.

I politely refused when Savannah asked for a ride home.  She pouted, but I plead fatigue and early morning workout plans.  She rolled her eyes and flounced away.

Our football game was a success, and I started hanging out with Alex more.  I still saw Kevin, but I was splitting my time between his group of friends and Alex's and Savannah's.  Occasionally we all got together, and everyone got along really well.  Kevin got along especially well with one of Savannah's friends, Kinsley.  I think they were hooking up for awhile, but Kevin never mentioned it.  Savannah and I fooled around a couple more times.  She never pushed for more, and the sex got better every time, so why not?

I was having a get together at my place when Alex pulled me aside.  "You know that Savannah wants to date you, right?" he asked me quietly.

"She does?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Alex stared at me.  "You don't already know that?  She talks about you non-stop.  I thought you knew."

"She's never said anything," I said, shaking my head.  "She's always just asked me for a ride home, then invited me in.  She doesn't say a word when I leave.  I had no idea."  I shoved my hand through my hair, feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

"Well, I'd be careful if I were you," he warned.  "She doesn't take rejection well."  His grimace that accompanied that statement made me wonder if he knew from experience.  I thanked him for the head's up and returned to playing host.

Since my house was so far out of town, some of the people that came over stayed the night.  Savannah was one of them, and when I showed her to the guest room, she frowned.  She stepped closer to me and put her hand on my arm, then turned her doe eyes up to mine.  "I was thinking maybe I could spend the night with you," she said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, turning her gently towards the door of the guest room.  "Goodnight, Savannah."  I walked away before she could protest.  I was worried she'd follow, but luckily she didn't.

I avoided her calls that week.  When I went to happy hour on Thursday, which was becoming a weekly tradition, she intercepted me on my way from the door to the bar.  "Can we talk?" she asked.

"Can I get a drink first?" I replied, stalling.

"I'd rather you didn't, can we go outside?"  Sighing, I followed her outside, having a pretty good idea what was coming.

"Look, Savannah--" I started, ready to beat her to the punch and apologize for misreading the situation.

"No, you look," she snapped back.  "What kind of girl do you think I am?"  Was that a trick question?  Inviting someone in and jumping on him after knowing him for a mere couple of hours sends a pretty strong message.  Luckily, she saved me from having to answer that by continuing.  "I was under the impression that this was going somewhere.  You made me look like such an idiot last weekend!"

"Savannah, I'm sorry, I really am," I said sincerely.  "I had no idea that you wanted a relationship.  I thought that we were both cool with just hooking up.  I didn't mean to hurt you or embarrass you."  This was my first time apologizing to a woman since high school, and it was weird.  It also wasn't received well.

"You had no idea," she scoffed.  "Of course you didn't.  How convenient for you!  Tell me, Brody, do you know many girls that are 'cool with just hooking up'?"  She paused, staring me down, apparently expecting an answer to this question.

"Well, actually I do," I said.  Bad move.  She glared at me.  Then she stomped her foot.  She actually, legitimately stomped her foot.  "I mean," I said quickly, trying to recover, "I used to, anyway."

She laughed, a high pitched, sort of creepy sound completely unlike her normal laugh.  "I'd heard about you, but I thought things would be different now that you were hanging out with different people.  Guess not."

"Savannah, I'm sorry.  I don't know what else to say.  I'm actually really confused because you've never said a word about wanting more than sex, and every other girl that's ever invited me in within hours of meeting me has never wanted more than that.  I misread the situation, and I feel really terrible."

"So, you think I'm a slut?" she asked, challenging me.

I'd had enough.  "No, I don't.  I don't think of women that enjoy sex, even casual sex, as 'sluts'.  I'm not doing this anymore," I said, throwing up my hands.  "I'm really sorry.  I'm not interested in dating you.  I don't know what else to say, so if you're finished, I'm going to go inside and have a drink."  She started to open her mouth, and I cut her off.  "Actually, even if you're not finished, I'm going to go inside and have a drink."  I turned and walked towards the door.  I stopped and looked back at her.  "I am really, really sorry though," I insisted.  She didn't respond. 

She came back in while I was at the bar.  She stopped at the table for a minute, then stormed back out.  I approached the table cautiously, sitting down by Alex.  "Dude," he said, looking at me carefully.  "What did you do to her?"

"I apologized," I said wryly.

"Looks like you did a good job," he said with a laugh.  "Told you she doesn't take rejection well."

"Yeah, and that was an understatement," I replied.

Alex shook his head.  "Don't stop coming now that she went crazy."

"I won't," I promised.  "She'll get over it, right?"

He made a face.  "I hope so," he said, not sounding at all convinced.