by Anne Connor
“No, no. It’s not bad. It’s fine. It’s a good thing. You got his attention.”
I look over my shoulder to see my chosen Anderson brother make his way across the bar to us.
He looks even better up close. From just a few feet away, I can see that he has light, sparkling green eyes that I absolutely want to get lost in, and the scent of someone whose sheets I want to get tangled up in.
And his suit looks expensive in its cut and how it fits him. The skinny tie, the way he buttons the middle button on the three-button blazer that hugs his broad back. Everything just looks like money. I bet his boxers are more expensive than my whole outfit.
He is drop-dead, panty-meltingly hot.
“Excuse me, ladies. Are these seats taken?”
“Nope! Why don’t you sit down?” Jess answers with a spring in her voice. It’s like the words bounce out of her mouth and into the air. I want to grab them and shove them under the table. The last thing I need is some rich guy’s superficial attention distracting me from my work all weekend.
I jab Jess lightly in the ribs under the table. I hope the Anderson brother doesn’t see.
He pulls out the chair across from Jess and sits down like he owns the damn chair. He’s broad and tall, and even seated, he has an effortlessly larger-than-life way about him, like he needs to scold women for staring at him all the time.
I’m sure he catches women staring at him constantly.
“I was wondering where your boyfriends were, and I wanted to come over and keep you company until they came back.”
“No boyfriends here!”
Jess waves her arms in the air to punctuate her response.
“Oh? Well, where are they?” the Anderson brother looks around with a sarcastic, skeptical smirk on his face.
Damn, this guy is good.
“What I meant is that we don’t have boyfriends. They aren’t here or anywhere.”
“Well, they’re somewhere. You just haven’t met them yet.” His nimble fingers hold a cocktail straw, spearing the tip of his tongue through slightly parted lips.
Ugh. This? This is what I’m dealing with?
“Sorry if you caught us looking at you. My friend and I didn’t mean to be rude,” I say. “But she knows who you are.”
“Oh? Your friend knows who I am?”
He shifts his gaze from me to Jess and then back to me.
“And do you know who I am?”
“I do now. You’re in real estate.”
The Anderson brother laughs, a bent, mischievous smile growing on his face.
“That might be true, but that’s not who I am. Hi.”
He puts out his hand to shake mine. His eyes lock onto me and don't move, not even to my hands, which seem to be glued to the table.
“I’m Drew Anderson. I won’t introduce myself to your friend, here, because she already knows who I am.” He looks over to Jess. “Don’t you?”
A little knot of nerves uncurls in my stomach, releasing itself into my body, flooding me with the adrenaline that can only come when a dangerously hot guy introduces himself.
When he takes his gaze off me it feels like a bandaid has been ripped off - painful for a second, and then soothed, like I know it has done its job.
“Yes, that’s correct. I do know who you are, Drew Anderson. And that’s your brother, right over there.” She gestures with her glass. “That’s Eric.”
“Correct. And since both of you know our names, would you care to share your names with me?”
“I’m Jess. And this is my best friend, Molly.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jess and Molly.”
He rolls the bottom of his glass on the table, careful to not let his drink tip over the revolving edge. Every movement he makes is deliberate, measured and even. It’s excruciating to see his fingers roll along the edge of the glass.
“So, I take it that you really don’t have boyfriends? You can’t, because if you did, they’d be here with you right now. They’d be stupid not to.”
“Nope. No boyfriends. But don’t you have a girlfriend? Clarissa?”
“Ex. We just broke up today.”
“Aw. I’m sorry to hear that.”
There seems to be genuine concern in her voice, but from the way she’s kicking me under the table, I know she wants me to talk to him. Or do more than talk.
I was never one for a casual hookup, and I’m not sure I could entertain the possibility of dating some rich guy. Not my style. And besides, I don’t want someone aloof, someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth, someone who is used to having everything in life handed to him - a home, a girlfriend, money. I am sure this guy, judging from the way he talks and the way he dresses and the business he is in, is used to getting his way.
Not for me. I already know it.
“It’s okay. I already see someone who I like better.”
His eyes lock onto me again, but this time, instead of focusing just on my eyes, his gaze lingers on my chest, my face, my hands and arms. Everything. I’m sure that if I had been standing up, he would have even checked out my feet.
I’m right to not be interested. He’s a womanizer. Already over his ex, in one day? Ready to pick up another woman just a few hours later?
But I can’t help what he’s doing to me. His eyes yank on a little piece of my insides. He’s so hot, and just my type physically. I would love to see him out in the light of day, without the thumping bass from the music and the blue and red lights of the club. Maybe he’s absolutely hideous in the daylight.
“I was about to leave.” I stretch my arms in the air and let out a fake yawn. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“New job on Monday. Need to get some work done this weekend to prepare for it.”
“Oh, Molly, don’t go. The night was just starting!” Jess whines.
“Yeah, Molly. Stay with us. I promise I’ll get you home in time to work tomorrow. I’ll have you back at your house by eight tomorrow morning.” He spears an ice cube between his front teeth, teasing it with his tongue. “Even if I keep you up all night.”
My mouth pops open in shock and a pool of heat grows deep inside my core. Why does he have to be so hot? And charming? It’s like he knows just what to say to get me riled up inside, and if anyone else had said those things to me, I might have considered letting him buy me a drink.
It’s been long enough since I’ve had this kind of attention from a guy. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone talk to me with language so dripping with innuendo in a public place before.
“That’s fine. I’ve got to go.”
I stand up and put my trench coat, slumped on the bench next to me, over my shoulders and onto my arms. It’s mid-May, but the weather means that most of the city is still wearing a coat. Jess isn’t wearing a coat tonight. Out of principle, she claimed. No one should have to wear a coat in May. But principle isn’t going to keep her warm. And anyway, I suspect she didn’t want to wear a coat because she didn’t want to cover up her tight dress.
“I’m sorry you have to go, Molly. I was hoping to get to know you better.”
This jackass leans down to whisper in my ear.
“I think you’d like spending time with me. I could show you a thing or two. Things you’ve never seen. Things you’d be begging for if I stopped.”
I pull away from him, even though I feel I could fall into his arms at any second. My insides are fluttering with excitement as his mouth breathes his words into my ear.
It’s too bad that this guy is so not for me.
“Well, maybe another time. Sorry. Jess, you can stay here if you’d like.”
“No, it’s okay. I’d better get home, myself. Long week at the office.”
“What do you do, Jess?”
“I work at a law firm.” She puts a hand on her hip. “I’m a paralegal.”
“I’m relieved. For a second I thought you were going to say you’re an attorney.�
��
“Relieved?”
“Yeah. I’m up to my eyeballs in attorneys right now.”
“Yeah. The lawsuit. Good luck with that,” I say, incredulously.
“Thank you very much, Molly. But I don’t need luck with that.” His green eyes penetrate mine. He must have picked up on my hint of sarcasm. “I have the best attorneys in the state working on the case.”
“Well, then, good luck with your fiancee.”
“Don’t need luck with that, either.”
“Then it seems like you have absolutely everything in order. You have everything figured out.”
“Not quite. I mean, I couldn’t get you to stay out tonight. Even with my promise of what I could give you.”
God, he really is something else. I can’t take it. It must be some mistake. Why isn’t he talking to Jess, teasing Jess like this?
Maybe he’s using reverse psychology on me. Yes. I read about that in a book once. Or maybe it was on TV. Maybe it was really Jess who he was interested in.
But right in this moment, it feels like I’m the only one in the world he really wants to talk to.
I swing the strap of my Longchamp tote bag over my shoulder. It’s heavy and I take care not to smack Drew with it, but maybe I should have let it just hit him.
“Good night. It was nice to meet you.”
I put my hand out in a professional gesture to say goodbye to him. I’ve done it so many times today - it feels like the natural thing to do.
“It was nice to meet you, too. Maybe I’ll see you here another time.”
His hand is soft and smooth, but firm, and his thumb slips over the inside of my wrist just for a split second as he pulls his hand away. I observe his face, studying it, as he says goodbye. His lip are full and soft, and I struggle to find some flaw so I can tell myself that I don’t like the way he looks.
“Very nice to meet you,” Jess says, waving goodbye to him and scooting out from the booth behind me as I make my way from the table.
I don’t look back. I want to, but I don’t. I squeeze my way through the crowd of people, women and men towering over me. The women, because they are all wearing heels, and the men, just because they are men.
No one can hear me say excuse me over the loud music. I don’t think anyone would have been listening to me, anyway.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jess rubs her arms and shoulders briskly as we step outside.
“Here. Take my coat. I have my sweater.”
“Thank you.”
I think Jess figures that since we’re leaving anyway, it’s okay to cover herself up. It isn’t like she is going to meet her new boyfriend as we are leaving the club, or back in Brooklyn.
“Let’s get a cab.”
I’ve recently moved out of my parents’ house - finally, at 25, I’ve done it. I just received my Master’s in Journalism, I have my first paid job, and, accordingly, it was high time for me to have my first apartment.
It isn’t like how it looks in the movies. Rent in New York City is ridiculously expensive. Sure, I’ve had internships. Awesome internships. I interned at a huge weekly news magazine, I interned in the public relations department at a university downtown when I was still figuring out what to narrow my focus on. But the internships, if they even paid at all, paid a paltry amount - it was a stipend, really, just meant to cover a metrocard, a sandwich, and a cup of coffee, if you were lucky. It wasn’t enough to cover the cost of rent, and it certainly wasn’t enough to build up any savings.
So now, at 25, I’ve just moved out of my parents’ house and into a small apartment of my own. It isn’t amazing, but it is pretty nice, and I can afford it on my own. That is the part I like the most.
Jess moved out of her parents’ place right after college. She was always a little bit more corporate than I was. She got a good job right away.
Our apartments are just a few blocks away from each other, so on nights like this one, we often split a cab.
“Can you please explain to me why you didn’t jump at the chance to have Drew Anderson buy you a drink?”
“I already had a drink. I had already had two drinks, if we’re counting.”
“And clearly, you were counting.”
“Why would I want this Drew Arrington character buying me a drink? I’m not interested in dating some rich asshole.”
“It’s Anderson. And I wasn’t saying you should date him.”
“So you agree that he’s an asshole.”
“No. I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“Look. All I’m saying is that he clearly liked you, and he just broke up with his girlfriend, and from what I could see, he actually seemed like a decent guy.”
I don’t want to tell her the real problem - I was too attracted to him. That I did want him to buy me a drink. That the smell of his cologne and the touch of his hand drove me crazy. That I didn’t have time to stay out all night, and that if I started by letting him buy me a drink, that I would certainly have ended up staying out all night - or even gone home with him and let him show me whatever those things were that he wanted to show me.
“You’re right. He seemed like a decent guy.” I don’t tell her what he whispered in my ear. “I guess I just wasn’t interested.”
I’m not lying. I wasn’t interested. I was insanely interested.
That’s the problem. Better to not get involved.
“Hey, here’s a cab. Let’s get home.”
Drew
“You struck out? Damn. Find another one. It seemed like you really wanted that one.”
I put my elbows back on the bar as I sidle up to Eric.
“No. I’m not in the mood anymore.”
“This one was that special? Damn, you’re losing your touch in your old age. Especially a girl like that. She doesn’t look like she’s used to having men like you pay attention to her.”
“Don’t be fucking rude. That’s my future girlfriend you’re talking about.”
“I just mean that she doesn’t look like she goes out to bars a lot. Jeez. Lighten up. And how many times have you said that, anyway? That a girl is yours, and then they end up being one night stands. It’s not a huge loss, it is?” He looks around and waves his drink in front of him. “I mean, where’d she go?”
He’s right. But this one felt different. I’m sure she’ll be back. But now, I’m no longer in the mood for another woman. Molly’s bright, pretty face and gorgeous body are going to be in my mind all night. It wouldn’t be fair to take another girl home if all I’ll be able to think about is Molly.
“I think I need to take a break. Get out of the city for a while.”
“I think you know that is the last thing you need to do, bro. Get out of the city? Come on. With all the shit going down right now?”
“I got a letter from ma.”
“A letter? Shit. Everything okay?” He hooks his hand around the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side thoughtfully. “An actual letter usually means that whoever sent it is serious about something.”
“Aren’t you wise?” I put my drink down and squint at my brother. Ever since we struck out on our own, he’s been a little bent about our mom remaining upstate. He’s always been a mama’s boy. So have I.
“She’s fine,” I add. “I talk to her all the time. She also sent me a little memento from shop class. Those were the days. Back when we used to actually mean something.”
We were everything in that small town. With our time divided between our dad in the city and our mom in the country, we spent the school year in that small town upstate. And we shone. Everyone said we were going to be the ones to make it out of there. I guess I just never realized how much I wanted to go back as an adult until I was already sucked into my new life here in the city.
“Yeah. But look at how much we’ve accomplished,” Eric says, spreading his arms out wide as though the bar is his kingdom and the patrons his subjects.
“Do you think it�
�s worth it? I mean, all we do is push numbers around on a spreadsheet and shakes hands and make deals.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m the numbers guy. You’re the deals guy. And anyway, you can’t leave town until we meet with these guys tomorrow. I got a text while you were over there wooing little miss bridge and tunnel. Their attorneys are going to be in our office at seven tomorrow morning. I already emailed Sarah to set up the conference room and get the good bagels.”
“Fabulous. Great idea. A few of the good bagels and schmear and they’ll drop their multi-million dollar lawsuit.”
“Quit jerking around. The fact that they want to see us on a Saturday is a good thing. It means they’re in a position to bargain if they want to see us so soon. And anyway, the point is that you better not leave the city. Don’t even leave the island. Not until tomorrow’s meeting is over. And then, you can do whatever the hell you want. Go visit ma. I’m sure she’d love to see her favorite son.”
I put my sport coat on and throw a bill on the bar to cover my and Eric’s drinks and then start to book it for the exit. I have to get home, but I know I won’t be able to sleep. Not with the meeting tomorrow, Clarissa dumping me, and being rejected by the pretty little thing in the sensible shoes.
“Thanks, man. That’s what big brothers are for. Picking up the tab.”
“You know that’s not the only thing I’m good for,” I shout over the din, but I don’t think he hears me.
Molly
I’m finally on my way back to my apartment about an hour after leaving the bar. I have the cab driver drop us off at Jess’s place, and I walk the few blocks home and take a mental inventory of everything I have to do tomorrow. I’ll get up at eight and do my fitness routine. If I get up at eight, that will give me a solid seven and a half hours of sleep. That’s perfect. I won’t be tired when I wake up, and I won’t be groggy like I always am when I oversleep.
Then I’ll have my egg white omelette and some juice. Then, I’ll get to work researching the newspaper. I’ll just need to do some reading up on the people I’ll be working with. I already read up on the people who interviewed me and the the man who will be my direct boss.
