Mr. Exec

Are 3am texts ever sincere?

Following my concussion in early April, I canceled my plans for several days to recoup. I wasn't sure when I would hear from Mr. Exec again. I couldn't tell if he had realized that I was disappointed that he had offered to come by to take care of me, but then didn't follow through.

So, imagine my surprise when I heard from Mr. Exec everyday but one that week. I would wake up to a text, asking how I was feeling or saying that he was thinking of me. He seemed sincere in his concern, inquiring if it was normal to have symptoms several days later (it is, for me) and whether or not I should see a doctor.

I tried to reconcile the fact that he was checking in on me with the fact that something seemed lacking. Three of the four nights that week, he was at meetings or out with friends within a 10-minute drive of my place. On two nights, he mentioned coming by my place to check in on me, and I replied that I'd like that. (When I'm home for health reasons, I'm always up for company.) Then I wouldn't hear from him until 11:30pm…or 1am…or 3am.

The 3am text said:

I'm sure you're asleep, but I wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you and hoping you're feeling better.

You're out drinking with your friends in Georgetown until 3am, but you're thinking of me?!? I wasn't sure whether that was a booty call, a half-assed attempt to pretend he was there for me without actually being there for me, or what! I might have taken the text at face value, but for the fact that this was becoming a pattern — and not a good one at that!

I didn't respond to him at 3am, but waited until normal business hours to send him this text in return:

I appreciate that we had only gone out a few times, and I had no expectations of you taking care of me this week. But, it doesn't make me feel very special when you say that you want to come over and check on me, and then you choose to go out with your friends. Hope you can appreciate that.

Mr. Exec wrote back that his intention wasn't to make me feel as though I wasn't special, but rather, just to let me know that he was thinking of me. I guess that would be fine for some girls, but not me. Given that we had only gone out four times, I would rather Mr. Exec had just texted me and said:

I'm sorry you hurt yourself. Take care and let's go out when you're feeling better.

A couple of girlfriends knew about Mr. Exec and the post-concussion texts, and I would forward them our text exchanges with a few added thoughts:

Seriously? Is this guy for real?
Same text, different night, but this was at 1am! Lol.
Does he want a post-concussion booty call?

The icing on the cake for me happened a week after my concussion. It was my 37th birthday, and I was speaking at an event in Northern Virginia. More than 1000 people were attending, and I had a dozen loved ones coming to support me. I was excited, but I was also very nervous. This was a BIG deal for me, and I had been worried all week that the effects from the concussion would impede me from giving my best presentation.

When the clock struck midnight on my actual birthday, Mr. Exec texted me and asked if I was out celebrating. (I wasn't. I was still not 100% and was resting up before the main event.) A half hour later, he called me. In both, he wished me a happy birthday and told me that he'd like to take me out to dinner to celebrate that week. I was awake when his text and call came in, but I didn't want to speak with him. I waited to reply via text until lunchtime the next day. I kept it short, as I realized that I didn't want to go out with him again.

I wasn't 100% sure at this point whether I wanted just companionship from a guy or something more serious. But, based on Mr. Exec's actions over the past week, he wasn't fitting either bill.

As I was scrambling to get ready for the event, Mr. Exec texted me at 3:30pm to wish me luck. He also reiterated that he wanted to take me out to dinner and that I should let him know my availability. I kept my responses curt.

I had things to do, places to go, and people to see.

Did I mention that Philly Matt would be attending the event? *wink*

Insult to injury

It was the first weekend in April, also known to any sports fan as Final Four weekend. I was planning to watch the games with friends, but first, I had to swing by Barkley Square with my dog, Nutter. While I was shopping, Mr. Exec and I were texting back and forth. Right before I left the store, I sent him a text about what I wanted him to do to me when we saw each other next.

(I’m trying to be respectful of Mr. Exec and not blog in too much detail about our bedroom antics. But, if you know me and/or you’ve read my blog with any regularity, you should at least have a clue as to what I was texting about.)

When I left the boutique, I walked back to my car and opened the passenger door to put Nutter inside. As I moved my head out of the car, I banged it hard on the door frame. The force was strong enough that I was thrown back to the ground, and as I fell, I heard a pop. I felt a sharp pain on the left side of my neck where I heard the pop, and the top of my head began to throb.

I’ve had enough concussions over the years to know that this was another one. A call to one of my girlfriends confirmed that my speech was slurred. I tried to focus on the street signs, but all I saw was double. I knew I couldn’t drive myself home so I texted a few people for reinforcements, including Mr. Exec.

I wanted to keep my text to him light, and so I wrote:

All that dirty talk got me so hot that I hit my head. In so much pain and very dizzy.

Thirty minutes later, he wrote back, asking what happened. By that point, my friends, Autumn and Jamie, had already offered to come get me.

I replied immediately to tell Mr. Exec that I had a concussion, but I didn’t hear from him until my phone rang over an hour after that.

Mr. Exec: Do you need anything? I could come pick you up. [Even in my fog, that didn’t make sense. He called me almost two hours after I hit my head. I was already home by that point.]

Me: No, I’m home. Autumn and a friend came to get me.

Mr. Exec: Oh, Joey [his best friend] and I could have picked you up, if we had known. Did you take any pain medicine? You don’t sound good.

Me: No. Just Advil. This is just how sound after a concussion.

Mr. Exec offered to come over, but Autumn was already with me so that seemed unnecessary.

The following morning, Mr. Exec texted me to wish me a Happy Easter and see how I was feeling. I was still a little dizzy and had a headache, but my speech was thankfully back to normal. After service a few hours later, Mr. Exec called me. He was off to have Easter lunch at a friend’s house, but inquired about coming over to my place later in the day.

Mr. Exec: I want to check on you and make sure you’re okay.

That made me smile. Since we had only gone out a handful of times, I hadn’t expected him to offer to help me out.

Me: I’d like that. Thanks.

We hung up. The afternoon passed into evening. By the time I heard from him, it was 11pm — nine hours after his previous call. I could tell within a few sentences that he had been drinking.

Mr. Exec: Sorry that I didn’t call you sooner. My friend had a couple of bottles of champagne so we all just started drinking on her patio. I had really planned on coming over to take care of you.

Me: That would have been nice.

Mr. Exec: You’re welcome.

Me [laughing]: Umm…you don’t get points for the idea. You get points for the execution.

Mr. Exec [chuckling]: Oh, so that’s how it is?

Me: Yes, it is.

We talked more and somehow professional football came up. I’m a New York Giants fan, and he’s an Indianapolis Colts’ fan. He started spewing off statistics about the Colts as a team.

Me: So…who won a Superbowl more recently? [Answer: the Giants.]

Mr. Exec: [He throws out several more Colts’ stats.] I predict that we’re going to have you in a Colts’ jersey before the end of the season.

Me: Really now? Is that jersey coming with a four-carat ring? Because that’s what it would take for me support any other team than the Giants!

He laughed, and then continued to throw out more football facts. I was tired and hadn’t been drinking so my tolerance for buzzed talking (let alone buzzed driving) was minimal. I told him that I needed to go to bed so that I could just get off of the phone.

I didn’t feel as though I had the right to be mad since we weren’t even a couple. I also didn’t know him well enough by this point to be emotionally invested. I wasn’t shedding any tears over the situation, but I was disappointed. Mr. Exec had said that he wanted to be there for me, and in the end, he wasn’t.

Was this a sign of things to come?

Playing hooky

It was a cold and rainy Tuesday in late March. I was lounging on the couch in my Old Navy sweats when my phone vibrated. It was a text from Mr. Exec:

Morning. What are your plans for today?

Me: A whole lotta nothing!

Mr. Exec: That sounds nice. Up for some company?

Me: Sure :)!

Mr. Exec: I might need your help with an article for a newsletter for [an organization that had a similar mission to a nonprofit for which I used to work]. Would that be okay?

Me: Of course!

Mr. Exec arrived at my place a couple of hours later. He has his nickname for a reason so I was surprised that he barely looked at his Blackberry all day. He fully committed to playing hooky with me and being a sloth. I hadn't expected him to be able to decompress from his job the way he did, and it was nice to see.

Even though Mr. Exec hadn't even kissed me at the end of our first date or even come upstairs, it felt like he had been over my place many a time. I poured him a glass of Chardonnay. We relaxed on the couch, watching Sportscenter. He put his arm around me and made sure that my blanket covered my feet. I hadn't thought about what this embryonic thing called "us" would turn into, but we interacted like we were a couple.

That afternoon, ESPN kept replaying Tiger Woods' interview.

Mr. Exec: If you were Elin, would you stay?

Me: Hell no.

Mr. Exec: What about for better or worse?

Me: That would go out the window if my husband put his cock inside one other woman — let alone 12.

Mr. Exec: Would you leave a person if he was an alcoholic?

Me: I was in a relationship with an addict and an alcoholic when I was in my early 20s. I became such an co-dependent enabler that I don't think I would knowingly become involved with an addict again unless he was in recovery.

Mr. Exec: Well, what if he didn't have a problem, but a tragic event like a family member's death sent him into a downward spiral? Wouldn't you want to help him?

Me: Of course.

Mr. Exec: Then, how is an alcohol addiction different from a sex addiction?

Me: I don't see what Tiger did as situational or a post-traumatic stress response. Cheating would involve a betrayal of our marriage vows so I see that as different from a substance problem. But, I get your point that if marriage is forever, that includes the worse.

We talked more about our views on cheating and sex addiction. I might not have agreed with all of Mr. Exec's points, but I respected them. I liked his energy and his wisdom. I hadn't dated anyone with whom I felt such physical and intellectual chemistry since Lawyer Boy.

Mr. Exec suggested that we take a nap, but I decided to crack the metaphorical whip and get the article done before we went to sleep. I felt flattered that he trusted me to help him with it, and we worked well together. I had a thought that if we continued dating, there would be a lot more of this. I smiled to myself in front of the laptop (much like I'm doing now). I had definitely missed being able to professionally connect with someone.

When we finished the article, we began talking about upcoming events in town. That made me think of his friend, Jenna, who I had met last year.

Me: How is she? She was so much fun.

He commented that he hadn't talked to her in a while, noting that he received a lot of flack for bringing her to the event in Georgetown.

Me [surprised since I thought that they were just friends]: Was she there as your date?

Mr. Exec: Well…we were hanging out.

Me: Wait a minute… you were flirting with me and asking me out right in front of her? And, she was there as your date?

Mr. Exec: Yes.

Me: What kind of guy is on a date with one girl and asks another girl out right in front of her?

Mr. Exec: Well, Jenna and I weren't serious. We didn't have that much in common. She's nice, but I didn't see it progressing so I didn't view it as a big deal.

Me [laughing out loud]: Seriously? I actually wondered why I had never heard from her since we had gotten along so well. Now I know why. I would have walked out of the restaurant if you had done that with me.

I rolled my eyes and thought to myself:

What was I getting myself into?

Tea for two

As my date with Mr. Exec approached, I found myself a bit giddy. Mr. Exec was handsome, successful and intriguing, and I was looking forward to spending more time with him. I could tell just how excited I was by the fact that I told my friends about my plans.

JD: Where did you meet him again?

Me: At a charity event last year. He had asked me out back then, but I was still with "Buckeyes" Boy. I'll guess we'll see if our timing is better now.

JD: So, where is he taking you?

Me: Out for tea.

JD: Tea? [Laughing out loud.] He's taking you out for tea? What straight guy invites someone out for tea?

Me: Come on. That's his thing. He mentioned that to me last year. I don't drink coffee anyway so what does it matter?

JD: Is he black?

Me: Yeah. Light-skinned.

JD: British?

Me: No. Enough! It's not a big deal, k?

JD found the whole "tea" meet-up to be suspect, but I chose not to over-analyze our plans for the evening. Mr. Exec and I had also been texting about watching the Georgetown-Marquette game afterward. I liked the idea that the date could be tea and more.

I wanted to look cute without being overdressed. (This was just a casual date, after all.) And, as is often the case in March, it was raining outside. I chose a red sweater, my skinny black Twenty8Twelve jeans and my black Burberry jacket.

When I arrived at Teaism Dupont, Mr. Exec was out front. He gave me a kiss on the cheek to say hello. When we noticed what the other was wearing, we started to laugh out loud. Mr. Exec had a black Burberry jacket and jeans on. We looked like twins!

We went inside, ordered tea and headed upstairs to a table. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to remember what a smart guy he was and how easily our conversation flowed. Mr. Exec and I talked about the usual topics that a couple does on a first date: education; places we've lived; work and family. The more he spoke about how he was raised, the more I smiled. It was clear that Mr. Exec was a total Momma's Boy.

After an hour at Teaism, he said,

Shall we go to a bar to watch the rest of the game?

Me [smiling]: That would be great.

He suggested that we head down to South Dupont and watch the game at a bar with more of a sports vibe. While we were walking, we heard Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" coming from a bar below Darlington House.

Me: Is it 1990? What's next? Someone will start doing the running man?

Neither of us said anything to each other, but there, in the middle of the sidewalk on Connecticut Avenue, we both broke out into the running man. I switched it up to the slide move that BBD was known for as Mr. Exec worked the Cabbage Patch.

When we finished our dance break, we laughed so hard that I had tears in my eyes. Mr. Exec then commented,

We have to go into that bar now.

We walked inside and realized that was the perfect place to watch the game. We bellied up to the bar to order drinks and some appetizers.

Mr. Exec: So, I have to admit that I haven't looked at your blog.

Me: That's not necessarily a bad thing. (I don't care for a guy to read about the explicit details of my past relationships anymore than I care to read about theirs.)

Mr. Exec: Well, I wanted to go to your Blog Party to show you that I support you, but I didn't fully understand what happened with "Buckeyes" Boy. Are you comfortable talking about it?

Me: Sure. I didn't do anything wrong so I'm fine talking about him.

I condensed my relationship and the aftermath into a seven-minute conversation. I didn't want to belabor the situation or raise concern that I might not be over "Buckeyes" Boy. But, Mr. Exec had several questions about my relationship, and I wanted to answer them honestly.

Me: This is a small town. "Buckeyes" Boy has lied to numerous people in the Twitter community, a recruiter and people in his workplace. It's only a matter of time before he lies himself right out of this city.

Mr. Exec: Definitely. People don't realize how it all comes out eventually. DC is too small for it not to. For instance, Nikki [a friend of his who I had met] was telling me about this guy who kept asking her out last year. He said how much he liked her and that he wanted to take her to dinner. She considered it, but then she told me his name. I was like, 'There's no way you can go out with The Baron. He's a crook.'

Me: The Baron?

Mr. Exec: Yeah, do you know him?

Me: Umm…yeah…we went to law school together.

I figured that was easier than saying,

Oh, you mean the guy who I spent New Year's with?

Yeah. My world is way too small.

In like a lion

Last October, I attended a charity event on the Hill. When I walked into the venue, I immediately noticed Mr. Exec, a very successful business consultant. He's 6'1" with an athletic build and light black complexion. His most striking feature: his blue-green eyes that sparkled like the water off of Seven Mile Beach. A close second: his impeccably tailored designer suit.

At the event, Mr. Exec took me under his wing. If I wanted a drink, he made sure that I had it in less than a minute. If there were A-listers in the vicinity, he introduced us and told them about my blog. If the photographer was nearby, he made sure that she took several pictures of me.

Mr. Exec: Are you going to the after-party?

Me: No, unfortunately, I have to go home.

Mr. Exec: Would you like to go out for tea sometime?

Me: Sure! That would be great!

Mr. Exec sent me an e-mail after the event. I indicated that I was open for grabbing tea, but he never threw out a specific day or time. I didn't pursue it since I was busy with my thesis and was living with my then-boyfriend, "Buckeyes" Boy.

A month later, the charity held another event in Georgetown. Mr. Exec and I texted each other beforehand to confirm that we both would be attending. Mr. Exec showed up at the event with his friend, Jenna, yet he still paid a lot of attention to me. He reiterated his offer to have tea together and also mentioned grabbing a meal at National Harbor.

Mr. Exec, Jenna and I spent much of the event talking to each other. For some of the conversation, Mr. Exec had his arm around my waist. But then, he moved it to my ass. That caught me off guard. I had always felt a friendly vibe between us, but my judgment might have been clouded by the fact that I was in a serious relationship. I waited for the next appropriate moment to mention that I had a boyfriend, hoping that would eliminate any further ass grabbing.

After that event, Mr. Exec texted me about getting together on Sunday. We were trying to coordinate plans, when he made a comment about wanting to give me kisses.

Me: Hugs – yes. Kisses – no.

Mr. Exec: Why not hugs and kisses?

Me: Because I'm living with my boyfriend and that wouldn't be right.

Mr. Exec: Oh, I didn't know that.

Me: Yeah, but I would love to go out for tea with you as friends :).

Mr. Exec suddenly became much less available for tea, but I couldn't blame him. I didn't hear from him again for over a month, when he texted me to wish me a Happy New Year.

We then began to text more regularly, but it was tough to find a time to get together. (I was in thesis mode in January, and DC was covered with snow for most of February.) When Mr. Exec heard about my Blog Party in March, he told me that he would love to come to support me. That made me smile.

In the same text conversation, he also asked me out for tea on the Friday after the party. I said yes without hesitation. As the week progressed, I got more and more excited. I wasn't able to be more than Mr. Exec's friend five months ago, but maybe our timing was better now?

When Mr. Exec walked into Black Finn for my party, a huge smile came over my face. I was able to look at him now and feel an attraction. We talked for a few minutes before I went to mingle.

When it came time for me to make a speech, I talked about why I started blogging and how my relationship with "Buckeyes" Boy ended. As I told the group, I was going to pursue my goal to adopt a child, but I also had a lot more dating — and more blogging — to do!

When I saw Mr. Exec later on in the night, I jokingly asked him:

So are we still on for Friday night?

Mr. Exec: Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?

Me: I didn't know if I scared you off with anything I said.

Mr. Exec [smiling]: Not all all.

Me [smiling]: Good.

I was ready to date again and was looking forward to getting to know Mr. Exec better. March was definitely roaring in like a lion, and that was a good thing!