Shifting Towards Tomorrow (A New Year's Tale)

The glitter and glam on the 11th floor outdoor rooftop lounge at The Grand Plaza was only offset by the brilliant colors of the setting sun, as it spectacularly made its exit beneath the  Gulf of Mexico. The club offered a 360 degree vista, encompassing Boca Ciega Bay on one side, the ocean on the other, and the twinkling lights of the city appearing below and across the bay.  Conversations, expectations, sparked the air in undulating waves as warm breezes brushed over bare shoulders, low cleavages, thighs dangerously exposed. 

Christi looked about for him, impatiently tossing her long blond hair she had spent an hour ironing and highlighting.  Men in sport coats and khakis, a couple formally wearing suits, many sporting Hawaiian shirts or polos. He was nowhere to be seen. This was an exclusive club event, and Christi had barely wheedled her and her sister’s way in.

She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, surreptitiously tugging the bodice of her newly acquired red sheath a little lower, and wandered over to the buffet. Crab legs, shrimp, scallops wrapped in bacon. Oysters, both raw and baked in garlic and cheese. Canapés, bruschetta, antipasta, salads; chefs hovered over great slabs of ham, beef, turkey, steely knives upraised at the ready. Chafe dishes lined an entire table, steaming with pastas, vegetables, casseroles.  Opulence, total opulence, Christi thought, sighing inwardly. For the $300 she’d paid for her and her sister to get in, it should be!

Estelle, Christi’s younger sister by a year, sidled up. She practically bounced on her toes, her shoulder length curls bouncing in accordance. 

“See him yet?”

“No, but he did say he was meeting a client here. I’m sure he’ll show up.”

“K, well, I’m gonna find myself a man for New Years! I’ll be at the bar or on the dance floor.” Estelle fluttered her fingers in farewell as she darted away.

Christi lingered by the buffet wondering if she should go ahead and eat or wait. She didn’t want to look like she was pursuing him, exactly. She wanted it to seem serendipitous that they should bump into each other again. She wanted to see surprise widen his eyes, feel the welcome of his arms when they chanced to bump into each other. She looked around again, sipping her champagne. This was her third, and she was already feeling a buzz. 

The band struck up a slow song, and as couples drifted to the dance floor, she spotted him! Broad shoulders, tawny hair just a bit long and scruffy. It had to be him!

Christi took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn’t want to seem aggressive or needy. They’d only met last night, after all. But what a spectacular night it had been! They’d gone to his apartment after the bar, and, well, Christi felt a flutter even now in the lower regions of her belly as she thought about all they’d done.

She walked up behind him and threw her arms around his waist. She felt him stiffen, then he turned around.

“Well, hello, luv! What good deed have I done now to deserve a hug from one so lovely?” Mischievous blue eyes twinkled from a slightly worn, lined face. 

“Oh, ah. I’m so sorry! I thought you were. I mean I thought you were someone I know.” Christi felt her face and neck flush as she dropped her arms like she’d been burned.

“Don’t be sorry, luv! Are you expecting this friend”

“Um, yes, I mean, I think so.” Christi had never felt so flustered. Yet the man in front of her regarded her calmly, but not without that up and down gaze that told her he appreciated what he saw. Usually, that would have been enough to get her to want to strike up a conversation, acquaintance. He really was kind looking, she decided, but she continued to scan the crowd.

“Would you like to have a bite to eat with me? My name is Evan, by the way.” He reached out his right arm and Christi automatically shook his hand.

“I, um, not right now, thanks.  I see my sister over there.” She waved over towards the bar. “I’ve gotta go.”

Evan cocked his head slightly and looked her in the eyes. “Well, then you’d better go. If you don’t find your friend, well, come find me. I’ll be here ‘till midnight.”

Christi walked over towards the bar, only to be accosted by an older couple who lived in her condo complex. Tom and Donna, she remembered their names were. She pasted on a bright smile and made an appreciative sound.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she exclaimed.

“Fabulous, absolutely fabulous,” Donna responded, air kissing Christi on both cheeks. She reminded Christi of a Russian nesting doll, kind of roundish about the middle. “Isn’t it fabulous? And you look fabulous!” Donna tugged on Tom’s arm. “Doesn’t she look fabulous, darling? Why, if that dress was any tighter, I swear she might pop right out of it!”  Tom muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Now, that would be interesting!”

Donna gave her husband a light punch on the arm. “Now you be a good boy and bring us a couple of Cosmopolitans while we girls catch up,” she ordered. Tom walked away into the crowd surrounding the bar.  It was a good fifteen minutes before he came back balancing the martinis in one hand, his other grasping a cigar.

For an hour or more, Christi felt trapped. Every time she began to make excuses to get away, Donna would exclaim about her being alone on New Year’s and order another drink. The fireworks were starting, and a slightly drunk desperation creeped up Christi’s throat.

Finally Christi stood up on the pretense of getting closer to the railing to watch the fireworks streaming up from a boat poised out on the ocean. Donna made a shooing motion with both hands. “You come back when they’re over, now! Fabulous, fabulous!”

Christi stood at the rail and looked around again as the fireworks boomed. She had surreptitiously looked for him all night.  Maybe she’d misunderstood? She didn’t think so. 

The crowd oohed and ahhed as the fireworks display rose to a crescendo. The countdown had begun. Christi spotted her sister standing on tiptoe next to a ridiculously tall man. Ten! She looked wildly around. And then a group of people shifted and he was there. Christi’s breath caught. Nine!  Eight!

Draped over his arm was a tall, thin woman with ropes of auburn hair floating over her shoulders. She looked up at him raptly, and he gazed back at her, stroking her arm. Seven! Six!

In another corner she spotted the Britt, Evan, surrounded by several women, all giggling animatedly.

Five! Four! Christi felt herself tugged into the embrace of a man whose face she didn’t even see. He smelled of bergamot and sandalwood. He smelled good, and she allowed his kiss, and allowed his kiss to deepen as the countdown continued: Three! Two! One!

Happy New Year!