Love Love

by Beth Michele

  “Yeah. I don’t know why I ever think things will be different with her. I might as well pre-record my responses.” I feel my eyes start to burn and a tear trickles down my cheek.

  Fran squeezes my hand tightly.

  “Why can’t I just have a normal, loving mom, Fran?”

  “Gabby, what’s normal anyway? I don’t think any mom is normal.”

  “I know,” I agree with a sigh of resignation. “I guess I mean an involved mom. One that thinks I’m special no matter what…you know…the kind of mom that wants to hear me gush about my day, my boyfriend, my life. The mom that doesn’t care if I’m wearing my Converse sneakers or my hair’s in a messy ponytail, or the fact that I haven’t taken a shower. The one that wants to take me to the mall and eat giant pretzels while we shop, and help me pick out the right dress for me. The one who bumps my shoulder and laughs, who shares her hopes and dreams. The kind of mom that hurts when I’m hurting, and puts her arms around me after I’ve lost the most important person in my life and I feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that things will be okay…”

  Fran gives me a sympathetic smile. “Your mom’s doing what she knows, Gabby. It still totally sucks that you got the short end of the stick.”

  Squeezing the Jolly Rancher out of its wrapper, I pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet and perfect, just what I need to distract myself from my crazy mother. She’s my mom, and I love her, but I still can’t help wishing she could be different.

  ***

  After two excruciatingly long days of waiting since Dane asked me out, Friday is finally here. I truly know the meaning of TGIF. I lean back in my desk chair with my hands behind my head and take a deep breath. I’m meeting him tonight and my body can feel it. Tiny sparks of excitement are shooting off inside me, so much so that it’s difficult to focus. I do manage to return fifteen phone calls, get through the oversized pile of paperwork on my desk, and toss a couple of Robby’s sticky notes in the garbage after completing the tasks. My stomach is growling as I’ve completely lost track of time and missed lunch. I grab a yogurt and a juice from the coffee room fridge so I can get through the rest of the day. I’m a bundle of nerves as it gets closer to the time I’m meeting Dane.

  When I get home, the first thing I do is rifle through Fran’s closet, which is no easy task. The quantity of clothes she has is staggering, and as usual, my decision making skills are letting me down. Just then, the front door slams and in walks Fran. Thank God! I need help.

  “Fran, in here,” I say, muffled from under a pile of clothes, belts, and shoes.

  “Where?”

  “Help! I’m drowning in your closet.” I hear her loud, melodic cackle. “Come on. You know I’m meeting Dane tonight. What should I wear?”

  Fran taps her finger against her temple. “Something revealing. Lots of cleavage.”

  “I’d like to leave something to the imagination.”

  “Why bother?”

  “Alright, alright. So…?”

  Fran eyes all of the choices. “I’m thinking black halter dress.”

  “Fran! That’s way too revealing!”

  “Listen, Gabby. Are you going there to have tea, or are you going there to get laid?”

  “Okay, okay. Point taken. But you know I’m not very good at this stuff.”

  “I know, that’s where I come in. So let’s do your hair. We’ll leave it down because that’s a lot sexier. Come on. Let me work my magic!”

  I take a seat in the bathroom and try to sit still while Fran makes me look extra beautiful. It’s taking a while and I’m starting to fidget.

  “Stop fidgeting,” she barks out, “I’m almost done…There!”

  I stand up and glance in the mirror, shocked at my reflection. “Wow.” I look beautiful.

  Fran was a little pissed that I wanted to go easy on the makeup, but the caked on look just doesn’t suit me. “Okay, give me a quick spin around so I can eye my handiwork.”

  I do my best model walk to the living room and back, without tripping. “You like?”

  Fran raises a brow. “Oh, I’m sure someone’s gonna like.” She gives me a quick hug for encouragement and I head out the door. Just before it closes I hear Fran yell “happy sexing!”

  My heels are a bit high, so I walk carefully down the stairs to the lobby, trying not to trip along the way. I’m definitely not taking the subway tonight. I have to keep my hair and my shoes intact. When I walk out to the street, I manage to hail a cab without having to wait too long, which is a miracle in New York. During the cab ride to Dane’s hotel, I start biting my nails, something I never do. I also begin thinking maybe this isn’t such a good idea. My nerves are definitely getting the best of me. By the time I arrive at the hotel, I’m sweating bullets. I pay the driver and hop out of the cab, nearly catching my heel in a sewer grate when I step out. Taking a deep breath, I talk quietly to myself. “I can do this. I want to do this. I need this.”

  When I enter the hotel restaurant, Dane’s back is to me and he appears to be deep in conversation on his cell phone. Almost as if he senses my presence, he turns around and sees me. A slow, sexy grin spreads like wildfire across his face. He hangs up the phone immediately and saunters toward me like a lion stalking its prey. Holy crap, he looks hot. He’s wearing black pants that hug his fine hips and a white button-down shirt with a green tie that, of course, brings out the emeralds of his eyes.

  Planting a soft kiss on my cheek, he eyes me appreciatively. “You look fabulous, Gabby.”

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  A wicked smile consumes his eyes. I’m on the receiving end of a lascivious look that tells me he wants to sweep me into the nearest broom closet. Sounds good to me. He leads me to the dining room, pulling out my chair like an absolute gentleman. The irony isn’t lost on me; he’s anything but, and we both know it.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t want to share?”

  “Not particularly.”

  We look over the menu. There’s a lot to choose from and everything looks scrumptious. “I’m not sure if you like seafood, but the lobster and scallop risotto is really good,” Dane suggests.

  “I love seafood. That sounds perfect.” A bottle of champagne is brought over to the table. “Are we celebrating something?”

  “Yes, working with your firm and my new apartment. Not to mention finding the best interior designer’s assistant in all of New York.”

  “Ah, flattery.”

  “Will it get me anywhere?”

  Keep it up and you’ll find out. “That remains to be seen.”

  He leans in over the table. “Well, maybe I have to work a little harder.”

  Dane’s cell phone rings, and after looking at the screen, he motions to me that he needs to take the call. He steps out of earshot to speak while I drink as much champagne as possible to help calm my nerves. In the meantime, I can’t help but take in my surroundings. This hotel is absolutely stunning. Contemporary in design, which I happen to favor, with muted brown leather fabrics and burgundies, complemented by candlelight and soft pink roses. Exquisite.

  Dane returns wearing a bit of a scowl.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, just fine.”

  Guess he doesn’t want to talk about it. “So, I’m curious, what do you think of the color scheme in here?”

  He looks around the room like any other guy–quickly. “I like it.”

  “Good, because this is the type of palette Robby was thinking about for your apartment. It’s very masculine, and it suits you.”

  Dane raises an eyebrow. “Masculine?”

  “Yes.” I blush a little. Masculine, virile, potent. All of the above.

  “You know, Gabby, I like that fire in your eyes when you talk about your work. You seem very passionate about it. It’s a turn on, actually.”

  I swallow a gulp of champagne. I didn’t expect that. But then again, everything about the way I feel in Dan
e’s presence is unexpected. Excited, nervous, angsty, sexual. My hands are getting clammy. “Yes, I love what I do.”

  “I’m wondering if that passion extends to other areas of your life?”

  I rub my thighs together under the table. “Simply put, I have an appreciation for life. All aspects of life.”

  Dane must really like his work. He certainly talks a lot about it. I’m reminded of how creative we both are, and it seems to be the one thing we have in common. Other than that, I can’t think of anything else. He’d rather be in a suit, while I’d rather wear my red Converse sneakers. He dines on tables with white linens, while I prefer to eat cross-legged on the floor. I doubt he even knows what a Jolly Rancher looks like.

  When he speaks, my eyes are riveted to his lush, shapely mouth. And those eyes, well, they’re hypnotic. I may not be listening, but I’m most certainly watching.

  “Gabby?”

  Crap. I’ve drifted again. What was he saying?

  As if he can read my thoughts, he says “Your eyes are stunning.”

  Your ass is stunning. “Thank you.” The waiter arrives to serve our food and saves me. I take a bite and close my eyes. “Dane, you were right. This risotto is absolutely delicious.”

  “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

  We eat until we can’t eat anymore. Dane clears his throat. “Would you like dessert? I was thinking we could take it up to my room and I could show you the color palette there.”

  Before I have time to think twice, I reply, “okay.”

  Dane’s cell phone rings again. He lifts a finger, telling me to hold on, which of course I’m more than willing to do. His face grows serious. “What is it, Sarah? I’m the middle of something. Uh huh…okay. That’s fine. Tell Clark and James to meet me at my office at eight tomorrow and we can go over the brand strategy.”

  I freeze. Just hearing his name is enough to pour a bucket of ice water over this entire evening.

  Dane ends the call and reaches for my hand. “All set. Shall we go?”

  I shift on my heels and stumble a bit. “I just realized I should probably get going. I have a very early morning tomorrow. Can I take a rain check?”

  Dane looks back at me in confusion. He seems more than a little disappointed, like I just popped his last balloon, but he shakes it off and walks me to the door. I turn to thank him and realize I forgot my purse. Dane runs back to retrieve it. What is it with me and forgetting things lately? “Thank you.”

  Dane bends down so close to my ear that I can smell the champagne on his breath. “No, thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  He leans in briefly and touches my lips with his. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come up for a bit?”

  “No, I really can’t.” My hands are shaking and I’m worried he’s going to notice that something’s up.

  He places his hand at the small of my back. “Alright, well, at least let me call you a cab.”

  “I’m fine, Dane, really. It’s only after nine. I’ll walk for a bit and then catch a subway.”

  “Okay, well then, goodnight, Gabby.”

  “Goodnight, Dane, and thanks again.”

  His hand moves a bit lower, hovering right over my ass. “The pleasure was all mine. Next time will be even better.”

  As soon as Dane is out of sight, I sit on the bench in front of the hotel. I bend over and clutch my stomach. My body really wanted this, but my mind, well, it just can’t let go. Maybe I just don’t want to. It’s only sex, though; anyone can have sex, right? Clark and I had sex under the bleachers once. Well, it was more than just sex. It was also a bit cramped, but it didn’t bother me in the least, because Clark was wrapped around me. The memory makes me laugh. It was completely dark except for the stadium lights. Clark brought a checkered picnic blanket and spread it out so I wouldn’t get dirt in my ass. We were in the heat of the moment and while he was grabbing my breasts I said, “bleacher sex, I’m adding that to my list,” and he burst out laughing. We rolled over and I ended up with dirt in my ass anyway. Putting my hand to my head, I forcefully rub my temples. Maybe if I rub hard enough, I can make Clark reappear. If only genies existed. I wouldn’t even need three wishes.

  I manage to compose myself and start walking. The air will be good to clear my head. There’s so much to see here at night, anyway. The walk will be a good distraction. The lights blinking from all the Broadway show marquees, the restaurants filled with people out for the evening, and even a man sitting on the sidewalk with his legs crossed, playing his guitar. People enjoying the music walk by and throw change into a hat. I stop for a second and listen to his strumming. He’s really quite good. I pull out a few dollars from my wallet and throw them in. He smiles and continues playing. Clark would have loved it here.

  My footsteps continue to lead me forward, and I’m enjoying the fresh air. Hearing a familiar voice call my name, I whirl around. Without realizing it, I walked right past The Brew House. Brad appears to be closing up for the night. When he finally turns and sees me, he stops.

  “Wow, Gabby. You look really nice.”

  “Thanks!”

  “You on your way back from a party?”

  “No, actually, I met a friend.”

  “Ah, let me guess. Green eyes, tall...”

  I smile. “Ding, ding, ding. You’ve just won what’s behind door number three.”

  Letting out a small chuckle, Brad replies, “since I’m just closing up, mind if I walk with you? After all, a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be roaming the streets alone.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can. But you never know when my superhero powers might come in handy.”

  “Superhero powers?”

  His dimple returns. “Yup.”

  “What types of powers are we talking about?”

  “I can’t tell you that. A superhero never reveals his secrets.”

  “I see. So I have to trust that should the need arise, these so-called powers will make themselves known.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I choke back a laugh. “Okay, in that case, let’s walk through the seedy part of the city. I’m anxious to see you in action.”

  “Never mock a superhero, Gabby. It detracts from our ability to perform.” Brad is silent for a moment, and then, “So...how did everything go?”

  “It was…nice.”

  “That’s it? Just nice? That doesn’t sound too promising.”

  “Actually, it was very promising.”

  Brad seems like he wants to say something else, but hesitates. He runs his hand through his shaggy brown hair instead. We walk together quietly until we pass Liana’s Ice Cream Shop and I look longingly through the window.

  “You’re looking at that shop like you just found your lost puppy. Want to get some ice cream?”

  “I’d love to, but I think I’m a bit overdressed.”

  “Nah. You look perfect. A bit distracting, but perfect,” he says with a wink.

  I love Liana’s homemade ice cream. Smooth. Creamy. Yum. We had a shop like this back in California and I pretty much got a frequent flyer card there. In my book, the only thing that beats ice cream is warm chocolate lava cake with whipped cream on the side.

  Brad grabs a table while I decide on two scoops of my favorite, Double Chocolate Brownie; he orders Monkey Ripple. We take a taste of each other’s ice cream. I see him eying mine.

  He tilts his head to one side. “I want yours instead. It tastes better.”

  I move my cup away from him, scraping it across the table. “No way. You had a taste already, and I’m not willing to share any more. Besides, Monkey Ripple suits you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you comparing me to a monkey?”

  “What’s wrong with that? Monkeys are cute.”

  Brad leans back with his hands behind his head. “So, you think I’m cute.”

  Time for a subject change. “So...how long have you worked at the coff
ee shop?"

  He moves closer to the table, and to me. "Actually…I own it.”

  “You do?” I’m not sure why that surprises me, but it does. “Wow. That explains why nobody ever minds when you sit at my table. How long have you owned it?”

  “About four years now.”

  “Wait! I thought it was a new shop?” How did I not know that? I must live under a rock.

  “No, we’ve just had a sudden rise in popularity. A friend of the family, Steve Cooper owned the shop, and I worked for him part-time during college. He decided he wanted to sell it around the time I graduated, and my brother Matt actually convinced me to buy it and loaned me some money so I could. It’s kind of a funny story actually. When we were growing up, I used to always experiment making different drink concoctions…hot chocolate, teas, cappuccinos, whatever struck me. I really enjoyed it, and while it wasn’t something I planned, I kind of fell into it.”

  “Well, you definitely seem happy doing it.”

  “Yeah, I love it, actually.” I see a twinkle in his eyes as they reach up to meet mine. “I get to meet some really cool people.”

  My face warms, so I eat some more ice cream to cool off.

  “Who designed it?” I ask curiously.

  “Again, I have Matt to thank for that. He had someone in his firm come out and help. I’m really happy with the way it turned out.”

  “Yeah, that was the first thing I noticed. It’s a little funky, but has a really homey feel. It’s very inviting.”

  Brad rests his elbows on the table. "So…what about you? Where did you go to school?'

  “I went to UC Berkeley for interior design.”

  “So you’re exactly where you want to be then?”

  I’m not so sure about that. “The job at Landon & Castell is great. It’s a really good place to learn and grow and I’m hoping to move up at some point.”

  “What made you decide to move to New York?” His brown eyes exude interest.

  I anxiously twirl my spoon around the cup of ice cream and start making soup. “It was just time, that’s all. I was anxious to be on my own. I love California, but New York is fun. It’s a lot more fast-paced than northern California.” I chuckle. “A lot more people in a hurry here.”