Dreams of Desolation, page 12
“Come on, it’s even better inside,” Victor said as he put his hand around the back of Morgan’s waist, guiding her into the building.
Morgan didn’t hesitate. She felt as if she was in a trance from which there was no escape. She had never felt this way because of a man, but his confidence and masculinity filled her with a desire for more. Victor escorted her through the entrance doors held open by two doormen in matching uniforms. The attraction was strong for Victor as well. Although he was more nervous than Morgan, he didn’t let it show. He’d been waiting for a girl like her for years. The lounge was stunning and quite possibly one of the most extravagant places Morgan had ever seen. The white marble floors were accented by vaulted ceilings so high that it almost made her nauseous. Embossed crown molding, plated in gold leaf, embellished the edge of the ceiling along the delicately textured walls. Perhaps it was the circumstances of the night or the fact that she was paying attention and trying to soak in every detail, but Morgan was astonished.
As she admired the decor in the lobby, they came up to four elevators operated by an attendant. Morgan looked at Victor with a nervous twitch in her eyes while he glanced back, showing off his brilliant smile, and shared a silent moment of trust. The third elevator dinged as it landed in the lobby. The silver doors opened, and a happy couple stumbled out.
It was an older man with a much younger woman hanging on his arm. He wore a classic black suit with a navy blue and teal striped tie—she wore a short, sheer black dress with black high heels to complete the look. She had either had too much to drink, or he had just said something amusing. She cackled and could barely hold her balance. He helped her walk off the elevator—on his left hand, he wore a silver wedding band, but her ring finger was bare.
Morgan and Victor stepped onto the elevator to find another attendant standing inside, dressed like the rest, red suit—white gloves. Morgan wanted to joke about how much this was like a movie and not even a romantic one. A redundant horror flick, in which the elevator gets stuck and the protagonist discovers that her date is a malevolent being hell intent on ruining her life. Thankfully it wasn’t, and she almost laughed but pretended to clear her throat instead—realizing how ridiculous the premise seemed.
“You, ok?” Victor asked.
“Yeah, just a bit thirsty from the wind.” she lied.
“What floor?” the attendant interrupted.
“The Signature,” Victor responded.
The attendant reached up to the control unit consisting of ninety-six buttons to ninety-six floors. Morgan hated heights. She hoped he would press the twenty-second floor—she could handle twenty-two stories, but he didn’t. He pushed the top button, and the elevator ascended quickly, ninety-six floors into the sky—away from safety, Morgan thought. The cab climbed steadily while the couple suffered through the uncomfortable elevator silence. As the lighted display showed they were on the forty-eighth floor, the elevator jolted, throwing Morgan off balance and into Victor’s arms.
“Sorry about that. I should have warned you. It does that every time,” the attendant said.
“It’s alright,” Morgan said as she stared at Victor’s eyes.
He stared back down at her, her lips quivering, revealing what he thought she wanted. He came close, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he pushed her hair back from her face.
It must have taken no more than thirty seconds before the elevator slowed, and Morgan felt her stomach lift and instantly drop. She hoped the doors would never open, and she wouldn’t have to step out. But when the elevator dinged and the silver doors slowly parted in front of Morgan, she stared straight ahead in anticipation. Gazing into the distance, the view took her breath away. It was a simple restaurant, dark and intimate. A sultry pianist in a purple dress played on a stage in the distance, next to a small dance floor. The light bouncing off the baby grand black piano made it seem otherworldly, as it was reflecting the light of the moon and the stars themselves. The rooftop lounge was unlike any place Morgan had dined before. She attempted to control her excitement, but the experience provoked a sensation she hadn’t felt since she was a child.
She looked at the sky and observed the restaurant in front of her. Tables that only sat two people laid scarcely throughout the open space. A bar to the left seemed to be the center of attention, with people clamoring over each other. It was perfect, but as Morgan glanced around and saw what everyone else was wearing, she felt somewhat underdressed. All the women wore expensive garments exposing their perfectly tan legs. Not a single one of them wore jeans, but then again, none of them had ridden a motorcycle.
Victor, once again, put his hand around Morgan’s waist and led her towards the host stand. An older man stood perfectly still awaiting them. As Victor stepped forward, the host squinted his eyes. Morgan thought he was about to comment on their appearance—he didn’t. Instead, he greeted Victor with kindness, unlike she had ever experienced.
“Young Master Raven. What an unexpected surprise,” the gray-haired man said with a chuckle.
“Hello, Larry. It has been much too long, hasn’t it?” Victor responded with a chuckle as he reached for a handshake, followed by the two men sharing a hug.
Maybe this wasn’t his signature first date, Morgan thought.
“And whom may I ask, is this young woman?” Larry asked, signaling at Morgan with an open palm.
“Larry, this is Morgan—my date, this evening,” Victor said proudly.
“Hello, Miss Morgan. It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Larry said, shaking her hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Morgan responded.
“Victor is a lucky man to have you on his arm tonight,” Larry said as Morgan simply smiled back, not knowing how to respond.
“Indeed,” Victor said, enjoying the sound of the sentence beforehand.
Just the two of them.
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll prepare your table.” Larry said as he headed towards another host and whispered instructions.
“Master Raven?” Morgan asked, staring at Victor’s eyes.
“He’s called me that since I was a child,” he explained.
Morgan watched as the other host rushed to a table near the edge of the rooftop, still occupied by a young couple. There were no plates on the table or silverware. Only their wine glasses lingered along with their laughter. The two men seemed to be enjoying their night, but maybe they were finishing up, or perhaps they had just sat down. Either way, whatever the host said to them made them stand up without hesitating. They didn’t seem upset. They just relocated to a table far away from their original one. The second they moved, the host snapped his fingers, and four individuals quickly refreshed the table setting. The floral arrangement was cleared, the black tablecloth had been replaced—and a fresh set of tableware, wrapped in royal blue cloth napkins, were placed on the table. Morgan was impressed.
“We’re ready for you, Master Raven.” Larry signaled, as he held two menus and led the way through the crowd, towards the best table in the house.
Victor pulled the chair out for Morgan and allowed her to take her seat, and she realized this was the first time anyone had performed this act of chivalry for her. Larry waited for Victor to take his seat before handing them the menus and going through the chef’s specials.
“Your server will be with you in just a moment. Enjoy your dinner.” Larry removed himself with a smile and a nod.
Morgan took a few seconds to take it all in. They had an incredible view atop one of the tallest buildings in Hallowed Groves—the city sparkled beneath them, and the surrounding buildings seemed to admire Morgan and Victor’s company. As she looked through the menu, she was awestruck at the exquisite selection of dishes. She was nervous, impressed, and amazed—and quite frankly, she didn’t know what to say.
“Everything ok?” Victor asked, noticing her demure expression.
“Yeah, everything’s great. It’s just… a bit overwhelming if I’m honest.” Morgan responded.
“It’s too much, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I knew we should have just gotten hot dogs or burgers. I’m so stupid.” he looked away, dejected.
“No, Victor, this place is amazing. I’m enjoying it, and overwhelming isn’t a bad thing. It’s just, this is the first time I’ve been on a real date. And this whole night, well, it’s just been one surprise after another. I had never been on a motorcycle either. I’m overwhelmed, in a good way,” Morgan said as she reached over and placed her right hand on Victor’s.
“Your first date? I would have thought all the guys would be dying to be with a girl like you.”
“Not even close. The guys at my school liked the popular girls, which I never was. I just stayed focused on school. I was a nerd.” Morgan laughed.
She didn’t want to talk about her years in high school, so she simply changed the topic? “So, what’s good here?”
“The Beef Wellington is my favorite, also the Steak Tartare. Honestly, I’ve never had a dish here I didn’t like.” Victor advised.
“You come here frequently?” Morgan asked.
“My mother started bringing me here when I was eight. She would meet her girlfriends here regularly for Sunday brunch—well, Sunday gossip, as I always saw it. I would get bored sitting around for hours, so Larry would take me into the kitchen. He had the chef show me how to fillet, sear, and season. I used to hate this place, but eventually, I couldn’t wait to come here.” Victor confided.
“So, you know how to cook?”
“Well, I’m no award-winning chef, but yeah, I know my way around a kitchen.” Victor smiled.
The server approached the table—a well-groomed man with a bottle of red wine in hand. Someone Victor had also come to know throughout the years, Antonio.
“Good evening, Master Raven. It’s a pleasure to have you back here again. I brought a 1985 Merlot for you tonight, compliments of the house,” Antonio said as he presented the bottle to Victor first and then to Morgan.
After he uncorked it, he poured an ounce into Victor’s glass, which he brought up to his nose, and then swirled the dark red liquid. After taking in the aroma, he took a sip, and he allowed the flavors to fill his senses before swallowing it.
“It’s exquisite. Thank you, Antonio.”
Antonio continued to pour a full glass for Victor and then for Morgan.
“Which appetizer may I bring to you this evening?” Antonio continued.
“Do you like calamari?” Victor asked Morgan.
“I do,” Morgan responded, remembering the first time she had calamari was seven years ago, on vacation with her parents in Positano, Italy.
“An excellent choice,” Antonio said, removing himself.
“This wine is amazing. You’ll love it.” Victor said as he held up the glass.
“I’m only nineteen,” Morgan confessed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that. You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” Victor replied.
“How old are you, Vic?” Morgan asked, realizing that she had just nicknamed him.
“Twenty-two.”
Morgan felt awkward. She was on her first date and wanted to forget about her reality, even if for a night. Tonight, Morgan decided to go against her integrity and picked up the glass of wine. Holding it in the air, she decided to drink, leaving behind her name and age.
“Well, then. Shall we cheer?” Morgan asked.
“Cheers to what?” he allowed her toast.
“Cheers... To being young and being here,” she said.
“To being young and being here,” Victor repeated as they clinked their glasses together.
As they waited for the food to arrive, they chatted and got to know each other. Morgan sipped her wine, aware that she had never had an alcoholic drink before. She liked the taste—it was alluring and felt like the most adult thing she had ever done. She had always pictured herself enjoying her first drink at a college party, not a fancy restaurant at the top of the world. She learned about Victor, who was studying to be a civil engineer. He wanted to build bridges and improve transportation systems. His ambition was seductive, but his honesty and smile were the highlights of the conversation.
Morgan thought she was a pretty smart individual until she met Victor. They were open with each other as they discussed even the most uncomfortable topics like politics. As luck would have it, they were on the same page and shared both progressive and liberal views.
When the calamari finally came, Morgan thought it was even better than what she had in Italy. Perhaps, it was the company—maybe it was the wine. Minutes later, when the entrée arrived, Morgan learned Victor liked to share his own and pick off from other’s plates. She didn’t mind.
Victor learned Morgan only needed half a glass of wine to start laughing at things that weren’t meant to induce laughter. Perhaps it was just her way of being flirtatious, he thought. Victor sipped his wine and enjoyed the sensation it provided, aware he had to drive back. He loved Morgan’s laugh and high-pitched giggle—and the more she loosened up, the more affectionate she became. She caressed his hands a few times and even played footsie under the table.
“What’s something you’ve never done?” he asked as he bit into the last bite of the Beef Wellington.
Morgan thought for a second. There were many things she had never done, but she understood what he wanted—a story to keep the conversation going.
“I’ve never been skydiving, have you?” she asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Um... Yeah, I have. And, it’s both the scariest and most exciting thing I’ve ever done. You have to put your faith and trust in someone else’s hands, and while jumping out of the plane is an amazing feeling, the wind whips your face as you’re freefalling at two hundred miles an hour. Once they release the initial parachute, you slow down a bit, but the magical moment comes at the exact second when you pull the cord to release the main chute. Suddenly you’re in control, and for the next minute, you’re soaring above the world, and everything comes into perspective. You’re falling, but you’re flying, and all at the same time, you’re in control—but when you touch the ground, this overwhelming feeling and desire to do it again instantly takes hold of your soul. It’s quite unlike anything I’ve ever felt.” Victor said, his eyes and smile lighting up.
“That sounds both amazing and terrifying,” Morgan said.
“We should do it sometime,” Victor teased.
“God, no. I think I would die.” Morgan laughed.
“I’ve done that before, too,” Victor said.
“What, die?” Morgan laughed again.
“Yeah. When I was younger, I used to ride horseback. Mother wanted my upbringing to be cultured like the generations before me. We were out riding on a beautiful Sunday after we came back from church. It was kind of our tradition. My horse, BS, was acting strange the whole day. Yes, I named him BS. Short for Brown Sludge. He was brown and extremely slow. No matter how much I snapped the reigns, he refused to trot. He was a very nervous horse. He loosened up throughout our years of training together—however, that day, we happened to stumble upon a dead animal. I don’t know what kind of animal it was. I just remember the birds feasting on the remains. As I came upon the carcass, the birds squawked and pecked at the horse and me. I let go of the reigns as the horse ran off. When I flew back, I knocked my head on the ground and broke my arm. That’s how I got this scar—the shock rendered me unconscious, and when I finally woke up, I was in the hospital. The doctor informed me, while I was out, my heart stopped. I was dead for six minutes.” Victor’s eyes couldn’t lie.
“Oh, wow. Do you remember anything while you were out? I mean, dead?” Morgan asked.
“You know how they say, your life flashes before your eyes?”
“Yeah,” Morgan said with a gulp.
“That’s a bunch of bullshit. I didn’t see a goddamn thing.” Victor laughed.
“Are you being serious?” Morgan’s nervousness broke.
“There’s nothing beyond death. I remember lying on the stretcher. I remember the doctors, and I even remember the feeling as I became unconscious. But after that, I saw nothing. It wasn’t like a dream. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. I gasped for air, and suddenly there was nothing.” Victor said.
“Jesus, that is one hell of a story. Sounds like there’s not much you haven’t done.” Morgan tried to continue the conversation as she took a few seconds to finish her pasta.
Victor hesitated but finally confessed, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Morgan sat back in her chair and took another sip of wine. “I don’t believe that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Victor asked.
“Come on, look at you. You’re handsome and smart. I would think women would be waiting in line to have a shot at you.”
“Well, they’re not. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had girlfriends, and I’ve been on plenty of dates, but we’re just not right for each other at the end of the day. I’ve never had a serious relationship because it’s no use trying to shove the wrong puzzle piece into your life for the sake of feeling complete. Most of the women I meet are only after one thing, and they’re not really there for me. But the moment I met you, I knew you were different.”
To Morgan, Victor was perfect. She couldn’t imagine an instance in which women wouldn’t appreciate him for who he was. Maybe he had a secret, like her. Possibly, something darker than being a sleepwalker. Perhaps he was a terrible kisser, a theory Morgan hoped she could put to the test later.
“Would you like dessert?” Victor changed the subject as he noticed Antonio coming back towards the table to pick up the empty plates.
