The Smart One and the Pretty One

by Claire Lazebnik

  “Who was that?” Ava asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Who was that?” Ava repeated, a little sharply.

  “Oh. My friend Joseph. You know, from New York? He wanted to say hi.”

  “Really?” Ava said. “If he’s in New York, why’d you say you’d see him soon?”

  “Oh, you know. Habit. I always say that at the end of a conversation.” She drew closer to the table. “Peanut butter and jelly—yum. I’ll get the knives.” She went into the kitchen, leaving Ava alone to chew on her thumb and think about the name she had seen pop up on Lauren’s caller ID and wonder why her sister hadn’t wanted her to know that Russell Marko-witz had called.

  Daniel did call, but not until almost nine-thirty.

  The sisters were watching a TV show, and Ava muted the sound while Lauren answered her phone.

  “I’m sorry it’s so late,” Daniel said.

  At least he had bothered to apologize.

  “I was going to call you right after my brother got here, but my mother said she had some stuff she needed to talk to us both about immediately. It was—” He paused, then said, “It was kind of heavy. Not the sort of thing you walk out of to make a phone call.”

  “No worries,” Lauren said.

  “Anyway, Mom’s asleep now and Matthew’s here if she wakes up. I know I said coffee, but I’m starving—you up for some dinner?”

  “I kind of ate already.”

  “Make him come here,” Ava hissed in her ear. “So I can meet him.”

  Lauren nodded. She was eager to get Ava’s opinion of Daniel. So far, she had pretty much only seen him in a one-on-one vacuum, and maybe that was why she found him so enigmatic—maybe Ava, who was smart, would have some insight into him that was eluding Lauren. “Why don’t you just come over to my place?” she said into the phone.

  There was a pause. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “I’ll make you something here.”

  He was silent.

  She said, “Or we can run out and grab something. Come over and then we’ll decide.”

  That bought her a wary “Okay.”

  “There’s wine and beer too,” she said. “If you’re in the mood.”

  “Okay,” he said again, with a touch more enthusiasm. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Lauren folded up her phone and Ava said, “Do you have any idea how much that sounded like you were inviting him over to have sex? All that stuff about being ‘in the mood’ and having drinks?”

  “Really?” Lauren said. “But you’re here.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “He thinks you want to have sex with him.”

  Lauren grinned. “I’m okay with that.”

  “Because you do?”

  “Because I don’t mind his thinking I do. Speaking of hot sex, what’s going on with you and Russell?”

  “Not much,” Ava said. “What’s going on with you and him?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not the one who almost had sex with him a few nights ago.”

  “I’m so glad I didn’t.”

  “Why are we suddenly down on Russell?”

  Ava just shrugged and didn’t answer.

  “You’re doing it again,” Lauren said. “That thing you always do where you push guys away as soon as they start to like you.”

  “What?” Ava stared at her and then shook her head. “You’re crazy. I don’t do that.”

  “Maybe not consciously,” Lauren said, “but you get suspicious when someone likes you—it’s like you can’t believe anyone would, so the second someone does, you stop trusting him, and you get all prickly and difficult and make it even harder for him. It’s like he has to cut down all those prickles and thorns around you—like the guy in the fairy tale—just to prove to you he’s worthy.” She was pleased with her metaphor.

  Ava didn’t seem impressed by it. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard,” she said. “And I’d like to point out I’ve had plenty of boyfriends.” She stood up. “Help me get the dishes into the kitchen.”

  “I never said you didn’t.” Lauren picked up the lid to the jelly jar and screwed it back on. “But it’s like the way you won’t make yourself look good for a guy—it’s part of the same—oh shit!”

  Ava glanced up, licking peanut butter off her finger. “What’s wrong?”

  “I got jelly on my new top.”

  “Serves you right,” Ava said. “Teach you to try to psychoanalyze your big sister. And I thought the top wasn’t new.”

  “I haven’t worn it much yet—you know what I mean.” Lauren ran into the kitchen and wet a dish towel, then wiped furiously at the dark purple spot right in front.

  Ava came in with the rest of the dishes. “Is it coming out?”

  “I can’t tell. The water’s making a bigger stain. Oh, God, Ava, I hope I haven’t ruined it permanently.” If she had spent all that money just to stain the top before anyone even saw her in it, she’d be beyond furious. At herself and the world. “I better change.”

  “That should make you happy,” Ava said. “You love to change your clothes.”

  Lauren didn’t respond to that, just left the kitchen and went on into Ava’s bedroom. The clothes she had hanging in the closet were mostly dresses, too formal for tonight, so she looked through the box of folded clothes she kept under Ava’s bed and rediscovered a dark gray jersey tank that had briefly been a favorite piece when she first bought it a few months earlier. It fit her well and was kind of sexy in a relaxed, tomboyish way.

  The truth was that the other top had really been too dressy for what this date had turned into—which didn’t exactly make her feel any better about having bought it in the first place. And once she changed her top, the beaded, glittery shoes looked absurdly prom-nightish, and so off they went too. (Maybe she could still return those? Except, on examination, the soles already had slight scuff marks, which could have been there when she bought them—she hadn’t checked—but might even so give the store an excuse not to take them back or at least to insist on an exchange rather than a refund.) She thrust her feet into a pair of Kenneth Cole flats and consoled herself with the thought that at least she hadn’t bought the jeans. She would probably be regretting that purchase right around now, too.

  She made a face at herself as she passed the full-length mirror. Remorse was a rare companion for Lauren, and she wasn’t enjoying its current visit.

  Daniel buzzed up about half an hour later. Lauren let him into the apartment and he pecked her quickly on the cheek.

  Ava stood up over by the sofa, and Daniel spotted her. “Who’s this?”

  “My sister,” Lauren said. “This is her apartment. She’s letting me stay here.” She flipped her hand back and forth between them. “Ava, Daniel. Daniel, Ava.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said with a lazy jerk of his chin in Ava’s direction.

  “Same here.” She came around the sofa and leaned against its back. She was still wearing her work clothes, a navy skirt and a white blouse, but she had taken off her shoes, which made the already overlong skirt look even longer and dowdier. Every time Lauren looked at her, she had to fight the urge to pin her sister down and forcibly hem her skirt to a more flattering length. “Were you able to find parking?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a barely legal space, but I think I can make a case for it in court.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Lauren said you hadn’t had dinner yet. Can we make you something?” Ava gestured in the general direction of the kitchen. “We’ve got eggs and pasta and sandwich stuff—we can make pretty much anything, so long as you don’t start thinking beef Wellington or something like that.”

  “Huh,” Daniel said with a clear lack of enthusiasm. “I’m okay for now.”

  “There’s also a little Mexican grill within walking distance,” Lauren said quickly. “The food’s pretty good there and I think they’re open late.”


  “Let’s do that,” he said, clearly relieved, although Lauren didn’t know whether it was the idea of real food or the escape from her sister’s scrutiny that appealed to him.

  Ava didn’t seem too offended by Daniel’s eagerness to be gone. All she said was, “They have great margaritas too. Which makes it especially good that it’s within walking distance.”

  “I’ll get my jacket,” Lauren said and went into the bedroom to find it. She could hear Ava asking Daniel how his mother was doing and winced, guessing he’d be annoyed that Ava even knew his mother was ill. She’d never met anyone as private as Daniel. But how could she not have mentioned his mother’s cancer, since that was how they met? At any rate, he barely answered—just muttered a “Fine”—and then there was silence and then Ava said something about what a beautiful day it had been and Lauren quickly grabbed the nearest jacket and rushed back into the living room so Ava wouldn’t have to struggle to make any more conversation. Daniel’s rudeness had never bothered Lauren, since it came in bursts and was tempered by the occasional revelation of something softer behind it all—or at least more interesting—but to hear him not even make an effort to be pleasant to her sister was agonizing. She wanted Ava to like him. Ava’s approval made a difference to her, even when she wished it didn’t.

  “I’m ready,” she said, bursting back into the other room. “Let’s go. I’ll see you later, A.”

  “I’ll probably be asleep when you get back,” Ava said. “I’m pretty tired.”

  “I’ll try not to make too much noise.”

  “Thanks. Have fun, guys.”

  “Good night,” Daniel said.

  “Night.” She looked at Lauren and their eyes met briefly. Ava gave a minute shrug that said, The jury’s still out on this guy.

  At least she hadn’t immediately written him off, Lauren thought as she followed Daniel out the door. Lord knew there had been plenty of times in the past when a roll of the eyes from one sister to the other conveyed a clear Get rid of this jerk.

  In the elevator, Lauren said, “So what did your mother need to talk to you and your brother about?”

  Daniel stared at the elevator wall over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Stuff.” Then, heavily: “She doesn’t have a will. Never got around to it. So she wanted us to write some things down.”

  “My sister’s a trusts and estates lawyer, you know,” Lauren said. “If you need something drawn up, she could get it done quickly.” Then, realizing the implication of that, she said, “I mean, if you want to get it settled while your brother’s still in town.”

  He looked down at his hands, spreading the fingers out as if he were trying to locate something he’d lost between them. “It’s okay. We’ll work it out.”

  “You sure?” Lauren said. “She’d be happy to help.”

  He gestured impatiently. “I’m too hungry to think about this stuff anymore right now. I need a break from it all.”

  “Okay,” Lauren said. “But you can come back up to the apartment after dinner and ask Ava any questions you might have.”

  “She said she’d probably be asleep.”

  “Then we’ll just have to find something else to do up there.”

  For the first time that night, he looked her right in the eyes. He even smiled. He said, “Yeah, all right. I’ll come back up.”

  The elevator doors opened and Lauren led the way out with a sudden exuberance.

  They started with margaritas on the rocks, made with real lime, not mixer, and by the time Daniel’s tacos came, they were both slightly buzzed.

  It was the first time Lauren had seen Daniel drink enough for it to affect him, and she was amazed at the transformation. He relaxed visibly: his face lost its tight, defensive look and even his limbs seemed suddenly looser, as he sprawled out in the chair opposite her. She felt his leg touch hers and waited for him to realize it and move it, but he left it there and the spot on her calf where they were touching soon grew pleasurably warm. He laughed more easily too, and actually told her some stories about his family. He described the spartan existence his brother maintained in Costa Rica and how when he, Daniel, had visited there, he had spent most of his time trying to find an Internet connection. “Matthew said he had chosen that life just so he could escape from things like the Internet,” Daniel said. “And I said that as far as I was concerned, it’s not a life worth living if you don’t have e-mail and Google.”

  “So what did he say to that?” Lauren slid down a little in her chair, which meant her thigh was now rubbing against Daniel’s knee. She was fairly certain he was pressing deliberately against her, but it was hard to tell: the table was small and there wasn’t all that much room under it. She of course was deliberately pressing against him. But that was her.

  “He just kept saying I had to learn to relax. Which is impossible to do in Costa Rica, by the way, if you like coffee at all. The coffee there is phenomenal. I was averaging eight cups a day, which meant I was anything but relaxed.” He poked his straw into the margarita glass, searching out more liquid. He had pretty much finished his second one. “At one point, I heard a noise in a tree above me and was in such a caffeine-induced state of nervousness that I actually jumped high enough to hit my head on a branch. I ended up with a huge scratch over my eye. My brother laughed so hard he almost threw up.”

  “What made the noise?”

  “Howler monkeys,” Daniel said. “Turns out they really do howl.” He noisily sucked up the dregs of his drink.

  “Does that mean that screech owls screech?”

  “Yes.” He set the glass back down with an unnecessary thump that suggested his hand control had been somewhat compromised by the margaritas. “And fire ants build tiny little campfires.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, opening her eyes wide. “You just made a cute joke. I didn’t think you were capable of that.”

  “I’m not. I can’t believe I said that either. I must not be myself tonight.”

  “So who are you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s a relief to take a break from being me. Mind if I just forget about that Daniel guy for the rest of the evening?”

  “Who, me?” Lauren said. “I’ve been hoping to ditch that loser for days.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He pushed his plate away. “He’s a total downer.” He flicked at an errant tortilla chip crumb on the tablecloth. “I wish this were my life. Going out for good cheap food and strong drinks with a pretty girl who’s got an amazing smile. Nothing to worry about except paying the check when it comes. No sick mother, no life back in New York falling apart while I go crazy being stuck here. Just another L.A. surfer dude hanging loose.”

  “Hanging loose?” Lauren repeated, raising her eyebrows and trying to ignore the pleasure his tossed-off compliment had given her.

  He scowled at her and looked like himself again. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah,” she said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. “So tell me: what does Surfer Boy do for kicks when he’s hanging loose?”

  He met her eyes and answered the invitation in them. “He starts by getting the check.” He signaled to the waiter without taking his eyes off of hers.

  She had thought his eyes were pure blue, but there was gray in them too, she realized now—a narrow band of gray circling the pupils that flickered with the light from the candle on the table between them.

  On the walk back to the apartment, he reached out his arm and she came into its embrace. He pulled her tightly against his waist. They walked like that, pushing their hips against each other and stumbling a little, laughing at themselves, the night air cool but bright from the streetlights and full moon above.

  In the elevator, he stood behind her and folded both his arms across her chest, resting his chin on her head. Looking sideways, she could see their reflections in the mirror-lined wall, but his face was in shadow so she couldn’t see his expression.

  He released her when they stopped at th
eir floor, and they walked out of the elevator separately, but he caught her hand in the hallway and held it against his stomach until they were at the door to the apartment. He let go so she could get out her key and let them in. She fumbled in her purse, hoping that for once she actually had her key and wouldn’t have to wake Ava up in order to get in. Luck was with her: her fingers touched metal and she pulled out the key with a quiet crow of triumph.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open and was relieved to see that the living room was dark and quiet and the door to the bedroom was shut tight, no light peeping out from underneath.

  “Oh, good, my sister’s asleep,” she said. Then, realizing how teenaged that sounded, she laughed and said, “And my mom and dad are out of town until tomorrow, so we have the place all to ourselves, Scooter.”

  “I bet you were just like that in high school,” he said, catching her around the waist again. “Always misbehaving behind your parents’ backs.”

  “Still am.”

  “I’m glad your sister’s asleep,” Daniel said and kicked the door shut behind them as he pulled her hard against him. He found her mouth quickly and the kiss went from tentative to intimate almost immediately. He bent over her, gently forcing her head back, making her throat curve until the part that was usually hidden under her chin became opened up and exposed, which made her feel vulnerable. That excited her. His hands moved from her waist up to her breasts, under her jacket but over the tank, which was tight and didn’t leave much to the imagination. Neither did the thin cotton bra she was wearing. The palm of his hand curved around her right breast and his thumb played with the hardened tip of her nipple through the cloth.

  Lauren let out a quick, hard breath.

  “You like that, huh?” he said.

  “What do you like?” She put an inquiring hand between his legs.

  “That’s a good start,” he said in a voice that was suddenly thick.

  Their clothing got shed—or at least the pieces that were in the way did. At some point they moved over to the sofa. They were cramped there, and along with the good sensations of her flesh being touched by a warm mouth and eager fingers were less pleasant ones of her neck being strained and her calf knocking against the coffee table.