The Great Conductor

Then she heard some noises coming from outside the room—judging by the sounds, someone was cooking—and took a moment to scan the bedroom she hadn’t had a chance to see clearly the night before. It definitely belonged to a single man—no vanity mirror in sight, only one bedside stand that contained a few books, a pair of reading glasses, and a fancy, old-looking mechanical clock with an alarm hand on the dial. The man in question had good taste and had spent a pretty penny on the interior design to make it look cozy and functional. Christine didn’t see any plastic in the room—only wood and metal. She liked it.

She raised herself on her elbows, causing the silk bed sheet to slide off her body. Realizing she was still stark naked, she hastily pulled it up, covering herself all the way to her chin. Then she smiled and relaxed because there was no one to see her bareness, and she started to look for her clothes. She bit her lower lip, remembering that some of her clothes had been unwisely left in the living room, and the rest of it—her underwear—was probably in the bathroom. She did not want to look like a movie cliché and show up in front of Victor wearing one of his shirts, which were so conveniently hanging in a neat row in the wardrobe next to the bedroom.

She could not have predicted that Victor’s proposal to have “one drink at my place” would result in a pretty good first sexual encounter and a sleepover, due to her lack of any will or energy to drag her pleasantly exhausted body back to her place. Once again, she congratulated herself on being smart enough to have shaved before the date. She always felt better that way. Of course, she should have brought something over, but she had never had dates that ended with unforeseen encounters—she could count the planned ones on one hand—and she did not have a habit of carrying around a change of clothes or a toothbrush. She could really use the latter now and the former a bit later.

Christine felt like she could stay in this wonderful bed forever, but her phone, along with her clothes, was out of reach, and she needed to check if she had received any messages from work. So, having considered her extremely limited options and wincing to avoid making any noise, she got off the bed and tiptoed to the wardrobe to look for something to cover herself with. Cliché or not.