Omphalos: Chapter One: Carly

Dominic Adams and I met at a party. A New Year's party, to be specific, hosted by my best friend, Aurora.

"Carly, you have to meet this guy!" she said. Her green eyes were sparkling from more than just the champagne.

"No, Rory. Not another set-up. I want to start this new year right. Single." I sipped my drink and avoided her eyes.

"Oh come on, Carly! He's a peach! A real gentleman. And he is so handsome! Plus, he is Irish." She nudged me with her elbow and winked. "At least let me introduce you!"

"You sound so old fashioned, Rory. A 'peach'?"

"It's the perfect description of him though. He is sweet and absolutely delicious looking." She winked at me, again.

"Fine, fine. But only so you  stop pestering me about it." I sighed.

I let her drag me, by my elbow, across the room to meet this guy. This would be the fourth guy she had "introduced" me to in the past year. Ever since Andrew, my Scottish knave, deserted me, she had been bringing me any cute European guy she could find. I was beginning to get tired of it, thinking maybe Europe and I were not meant to be. All the other gents (Roderick, Ambrose, Donovan and Keegan, respectively) had been boring and incredibly self-centered. I was in no mood to meet another "gentleman."  However, though I acted differently, I was not disappointed with what I saw.

Dominic had black hair and vivid blue eyes; a Pierce Brosnan look-alike in a leather jacket. Besides his jacket he was wearing ripped blue jeans and a t-shirt that hugged the curves of his sculpted muscles. I couldn't help but gawk. He was so beautiful, so absolutely perfect. Unlike his predecessors.

"Dominic, this is my friend, Carly. Carly, this is Dom." said Rory. He took my hand in a firm, but gentle, handshake.

"Nice to meet you." he said. He had a slight Irish brogue and, though I tried to hide it, I melted a little bit. We shook hands for at least a minute, eyes locked and electricity sparking like lightning between us.

I had never believed in love at first sight. I thought it was a pretty fairy tale told to naive school girls. I was resisting the urge to call it love. Inwardly calling myself ridiculous and silly. However, as corny as it sounds, I fell for him immediately. His voice, his whole stance, everything was drawing me in. I told myself it could be a trap, but I completely ignored that voice and continued to revel in the feel of his hand on mine.

Aurora cleared her throat and gave me an "I told you so" look. We let go, leaving me feeling sheepish. He grinned, rather foolishly, and we stood awkwardly, not speaking, for a few minutes.

"Would you like to go out onto the balcony?" he asked, gesturing toward the French double doors of Aurora's apartment. I could only nod meekly, too shy to speak. He took my hand and began to lead me toward the outside. I turned, slightly, to look at Rory. She gave me a thumbs up and smiled. I turned back toward Dom and allowed him to open the door and usher me out onto the balcony.

It was chilly, snow lying like powdered sugar all over everything, and we were the only ones on the porch. It was clear outside, in spite of the snow, the moon hanging low on the horizon and a million glittering stars scattered across the darkness like fallen diamonds. A shooting star raced across the sky, just above the New York skyline. It was like a sign. This was fate, right?

"Make a wish." he whispered, coming up behind me. I didn't realize I was shivering until he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He was so forward, so touchy-feely, so sexy. I had to remind myself to breathe. I couldn't wish for a more perfect moment.

"Did you make a wish?" I asked, looking back and up into his beautiful blue eyes.

"No need." he said, winking. I blushed, flattered and feeling a little like swooning.

"How long have you been in New York?" I asked. I was trying to start a real conversation, get to know him better before I jumped into bed with him. My brain said "This is easy" and my heart said "Skip the chit-chat." He made it very difficult to think.

"A year and a half now." he replied. "I've been in the states six years, but I've always wanted to see New York. So I hitch-hiked my way here, doing small jobs to get by. I lived in Seattle, Denver, Indianapolis, DC and finally made it here."

"Sounds interesting." I said, more than a little awestruck by his wandering. I had always wanted to back-pack across Europe and he had back-packed across America. "What are you doing for work now?"

"I've been working for Macy's six months now. Before that I worked for an art magazine in Soho. I'm also attending school, trying to get a degree of some sort."

"What did you do for the magazine?" I asked, my curiosity peaking.

"I was an arts editor. I decided what was and was not art. Apparently my opinions were no longer desired and I quit."

"What kind of degree are you wanting to get?"

"I'd love to be an art critic, or an actual artist. In the meantime however, I'm studying business."

"What made you decide to move to America?" I asked, a little timidly.

"I actually moved for my girlfriend. She got a job here and we decided to make a go of it." He looked at me, very intently, gauging my response.

I pulled away from him, slightly disgusted with myself for allowing his behaviour, knowing he had a girlfriend. I knew it had to be some sort of trap, he was too perfect to be available. At least that is what I thought at the time.

"You have a girlfriend and you act like this with strange women?" I asked, indignantly.

"We broke up. Shortly after I moved here, in fact. She had found someone better and she was never that interested in hiking."

"How old were you when you decided to move here?" I asked, trying to recover from my rudeness.

"Eighteen. She was twenty, then."

Slightly ashamed of my knee-jerk reaction without any explanation, I allowed him to pull me back to him. We were quiet for a few moments; pondering the beauty of the night sky, our feelings, our conversation. He held me closer than he had before, as if my reaction had confirmed his first impression of me. I wouldn't know until later why that was.

I forget how long we stood there, in the snow and chill. For most of it we stood quietly, staying warm by being pressed against each other. We chatted a little more, though I can't honestly remember what half of it was about. We stood there long enough that I heard the countdown to midnight begin inside Rory's apartment. He turned me towards him, pressed against his chest, and, as they said one, he kissed me.

In my head there were explosions of pleasure. In my memory of that night I will always see Cary Grant and Grace Kelley kissing with the fireworks exploding behind them. He made me weak and, if it was possible, even more attracted to him. I wanted to take him home and curl up with him like a good book. Of course, I wouldn't be reading when we curled up.

Rory opened one of the doors, interrupting our moment. I pulled away quickly, blushing furiously. He smiled, his grin quirky and slightly flustered. His hands moved in front of himself, hiding any growing evidence of attraction. I grabbed Rory's arm and steered her back inside.

"It's a little too cold out on the porch, don't you think?" She whispered, smiling wickedly.

"Hush!" I exclaimed, flustered with arousal and embarrassment. "This is your fault anyway, you are the one that introduced us!"

"I wasn't quite expecting you to move so fast. Especially not on my balcony." she replied, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She nodded toward the door and I looked over to see Dom coming back inside. He smiled at me, even as he began a conversation with another girl. I felt a surge of jealousy that he would be talking to someone else, especially after that show stopping kiss. Leaving Rory smirking, I sauntered over to Dom and put an arm around his waist, pulling him as close to me as possible.

I smiled, a feral smile, at the girl he was talking to and she quickly excused herself to the restroom. Once she was gone, I smiled again, this time sweetly.

"Would you like to escort me back to my apartment? I live in Greenwich Village and I'd rather not go alone."

He apparently liked this idea and I winked at Rory as we left, arm in arm. When we arrived at my apartment, instead of jumping into bed, we ended up staying up until eight in the morning talking about our interests. I discovered his love for art and the National Gallery in DC. He talked about how he worked for an art gallery in Belfast, when he lived in Ireland. He talked about painting and drawing. He talked about how beautiful I was and how he wanted to draw me someday.

We talked about our favorite foods. He loved peanut butter and fried banana sandwiches. I loved white chocolate and apple fudge. We sipped at rose wine and nibbled on cold crepes I had fixed for breakfast. We talked about our favorite books. Mine being 'Exquisite Corpse' and his being 'Flowers for Algernon.' We talked about our favorite movies, plays, music, pieces of art. Anything we could think of, we talked about. We even discussed politics. Whenever I disagreed with one of his points he would kiss me so that I forgot what I was saying.

We fell asleep, curled on my futon, watching "Much Ado About Nothing."

When we woke up, I fixed us some hazelnut crepes with white chocolate drizzle. We talked some more about things we enjoyed. We spent an hour playfully arguing over a game of chess we ended up forgetting about. We watched "Henry V" and discussed Shakespeare's use of insults, his creation of words and some of his sonnets. He read to me from one of my many books of sonnets. We acted as though we had been together for years, perfectly at ease and secure in this new romance.

When he finally left, he gave me his number and kissed me goodbye. We agreed to meet up again as soon as possible. I waved goodbye as his taxi drove off, clutching his number to my heart. I couldn't have imagined any meeting going better. I silently thanked Rory for her insistence.

And I started off the new year right. With a new boyfriend.