The Old Man in the Club Read Free Page A

alcohol settled in and her inhibitions diminished, she was honest: If Elliott doesn’t mess it up, I’m gonna give him some tonight.
    She put the caveat of “if” in there, but she was pretty sure she would. He had the presence of someone in control, even in a crowd of people who looked at him and wondered why he was not at home. It was a powerful presence in a sense, one that put a woman at ease and drew her into him.
    â€œI appreciate you letting me spend some of your birthday with you,” Elliott said into Tamara’s ear.
    â€œI’m having a good time,” she said. “Thank you for all this. My friends are eating this up.”
    Just then, a young man came and stood over Tamara. She could feel his presence. When she turned and looked up at him, she screamed in delight. It was a friend she dated right before graduating college. Their careers took them in separate cities and they had not seen each other in the four years after graduation.
    Tamara hurried to her feet and she and Jacobi hugged a long time. Elliott reached for the champagne and refilled her glass as the old friends caught up, laughed and even took photos. They are a good-looking couple, Elliott thought. He’s more like someone she should be with, he admitted.
    They talked for up to fifteen minutes. She introduced him to her girlfriends and they shared a birthday toast. Elliott sat there, unfazed. He would not try to compete with a younger man for Tamara’s attention. He would not infringe on her fun. And he did not consider it an insult that she did not introduce him. Actually, he was relieved that she did not. It would only lead to inevitable questions that would put her and him in an awkward situation:
    Who’s that?
    Is that your father?
    What’s that old guy doing with you?
    Neither of them wanted to hear that. Finally, Jacobi and hisfriends left and explored the spot and Tamara rejoined Elliott on the couch.
    â€œWhew,” she said. “That was a friend from college I haven’t seen in a long time.”
    â€œIt’s always good to catch up with old classmates,” Elliott said. “You should have offered him some champagne.”
    Tamara was not sure how Elliott would react to that scene, but his calm gave her reassurances about him and what she wanted to happen with him that night, when all the music stopped and the people went home.
    â€œCan I ask you something?” She again slid up close to him.
    â€œOnly if you can accept the answer,” Elliott responded.
    â€œI like that when I ask you something I’m not sure what your answer will be,” Tamara said.
    Elliott smiled, and when he did that he looked exponentially younger. “Go.”
    â€œWhat does it feel like to be in this place with people so much younger?”
    â€œIt feels liberating, to be honest,” Elliott said. “There’s an energy around young people that I need. I’m where I want to be, where I need to be. I have an energy and appreciation for life that make me want to be places where people are living. I read somewhere that every day is a celebration of life, and that’s how I live it. I don’t have to be in a club or out every night. But I do have to do things that celebrate being alive because life is a gift.”
    Tamara put her hand on his leg, which alarmed Elliott for a second because it was the side he soiled with urine. He gathered himself quickly.
    â€œThat’s a good answer, Mr. Elliott,” she said.
    â€œOh, I’m ‘Mr.’ now?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” she said. “When I call you ‘Mr. Elliott,’ it’s a sign that I see you as an authority figure, and authority figures are very attractive to me. I never told you that you remind me of one of my old high school teachers, Mr. Nutt. What a name, right? But he was dignified and handsome and I wanted to throw myself at him.”
    She sipped some more champagne.