“That’s right, Crystal. Yes, if the two of you are free on Friday night, we can have a light meal at the cottage.”
“I think Crystal will be working,” I say. I mean, this is clearly an irrelevancy. Maybe she just doesn’t want it to be one-on-one? I start to tell her that I could bring someone else when she interrupts me.
“Well, no, I should very much like to speak to Crystal again. We only had such a short conversation at the ball, but she was very interesting. If Friday is no good, when would she be free?”
Is she seriously saying she won’t speak to me unless I bring Crystal?
“I suppose I can ask, but is that really necessary for us to discuss—”
“Yes, young man, it is. Let me know when suits you both.” And there’s a soft click as the line goes dead.
So that’s that, then. The woman is a dragon, there’s no question about it. But I told my board of directors that I can handle her, and handle her I will. Even if that means going hat-in-hand to Crystal and asking her to accompany me.
But what if she says no? A fierce wave of insecurity washes over me. It’s only about the waterfront deal, of course, but what do I do if she objects? Maybe I should talk to her redheaded friend first; she talked Crystal into joining me last time. Yes, I decide, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Mrs. Scaravelli is definitely a challenge. And so is Crystal, even though I’m trying not to think about it. In my heart of hearts, I’m looking forward to seeing her again. I tell myself I’m hoping that she’ll come with me to Mrs. Scaravelli’s and help smooth the way for the waterfront development deal to finally get completed.
What I’m really hoping for is a second chance.
Maddy is super nice to me all week, clearly feeling sorry for me. It helps, a little bit. I even agree to go with her to The Bright Spot on Friday. Not because I’ll meet anyone who could even begin to compare to Knox Lockwood; I don’t think I’ll meet anyone like him again. But sitting at home on a Friday night with my PJs and my ice cream feels doubly sad when I know he’s going out. Right now, I feel like I am going to be a virgin until I die. The worst thing I can do is save it for Knox Lockwood.
He’s forgotten all about me, and I just need to do whatever I can to get past that. I feel like a fool mooning around like a teenager with her first heartbreak. It’s not like we had anything real in the first place.
By Wednesday, I figure he’s forgotten all about me. It’s probably for the best. Maddy takes me out for some retail therapy, and I buy a new dress and some cute high heels that I can’t afford. I also get some new lacy underwear.
I thought about putting the golden dress on Ebay. I bet it would pick up a huge chunk of cash, even worn. But it’s also the only thing I have left to remind me that night was real now that the tender skin from the duct tape has recovered. Definitely need to never ever let Maddy be in charge of my beauty regime again.
Knox keeps showing up in the paper and in the celeb magazines, generally with some pretty girl on his arm. Maddy points out that they all run a month behind, so stuff I’m seeing isn’t what he’s doing now; it’s what he was doing before he met me. But I don’t think next month will be any different. There’s no more articles about his secret waitress, either. It seems personal, like I never even existed at all.
I guess for Knox, I probably didn’t.
“Oh my God, girlfriend, stop moping,” says Maddy, throwing a fresh rag at me to clean the windows with.
“I’m just tired.”
“You are suffering from a broken heart, and the best cure is to get up and out and doing things!”
Suffering from a broken heart sounds a lot more romantic than it is, like I’m some gothic heroine who will slowly wither away with consumption-like symptoms. I could stand to lose a few pounds, anyway.
But I’m not telling Maddy that. I get to cleaning the window while I try to frame a scathing response to Maddy when my heart stops and my blood freezes. Outside, in the traffic, that’s Knox’s car. And worse, he’s got his turn signal on to turn onto Galway Avenue, the best place for parking for the diner. He’s coming here? He’s coming here!
I make a strangled sound, and Maddy looks over.
“Are you all right?” She follows my gaze and gasps. “Oh my God, it’s him. It’s Knox Lockwood. It’s totally him. He’s coming to see you! Oh my God, I bet he’s still hoping for a slice of that cherry pie!”
“Maddy, cover for me. I have to get out of here now.”
“You have to talk to him!”
I already feel a lump in my throat. This is impossible. I can’t talk to him. “No, I don’t. I have to get out of here. You…” My eyes are huge and pleading. “You find out what he wants and tell me. He probably just wants his dress back, and if I have to talk to him…” I can’t look into those eyes, I know I can’t, not without crying or shouting or both. I know I’m the one who’s being an idiot, but I also desperately don’t want him to know what an idiot I’m being. I can’t bear it.
“But what if he’s come to whisk you away?”
“Get serious, Maddy. This isn’t some Harlequin romance and, you know, he just wasn’t that into me. You’ve seen what he’s like.” My voice is cracking, and Maddy looks at me with eyes full of sympathy. Right now, the only thing I’ve got left is my pride. “Just talk to him, tell him I’ve moved to Costa Rica, or something. Anything.” And I dash out through the kitchen, calling over my shoulder to tell Pete I’ll be right back, anything to make sure Knox doesn’t see me there, falling to pieces just at the thought of talking to him.
I stop in the alleyway, wondering if I could just hide in the kitchen and listen in. But no, even the glimpse of him through the car window has my heart pounding. I won’t survive hearing his voice. Or maybe he isn’t even coming here. How stupid of me to think that just because he’s got his turn signal on, he must be coming to the restaurant. At least it’s Maddy on shift with me today. Imagine if it was Daphne or Cindy. At least Maddy can cover for me. He just wants the dress, if he’s even walked into Lido’s at all.
My brain is a mess of mixed signals: hope, fear, lust, disgust. I head left to ensure that if he’s parked somewhere else on the road, he won’t see me. I don’t stop running until I’m at the park, trying to outrun my thoughts. I’ll just do some deep breathing here for five minutes and then head back. Maybe ten minutes. By then, he’ll be long gone, and Maddy will help me through the rest of the day.
I wonder if he’ll be disappointed that I’m not there.
I’m half tempted to run back home and never ever find out what he said. Because then I could pretend that he cared, that he wanted to see me, that… something.
But that’s stupid, and I know it, so I creep back into the building through the back door, listening out for voices from the kitchen. Pete doesn’t even say anything, just rolls his eyes at me. I can hear the general buzz of customers and Maddy saying she’ll be right there. I don’t hear him. I’m pretty sure I’d recognize his voice from across the room, through a locked door, recognize it in a crowd of hundreds.
So, he’s either not in there, or he’s not talking. I peek through the hatch and look. No sign of him. Just a normal Wednesday at Lido’s Loco.
“Get out of my kitchen,” grumps Pete, shoving me out of the way.
Deep down, I’m disappointed. A tiny part of me thought maybe he would stay, that he would refuse to leave the premises until I spoke to him. I mean, even if Maddy didn’t crack under pressure, and I know she would, he must know that there’s no way I’m on break for more than half an hour, especially with Maddy alone on the floor. If he really wanted to see me, he could have.
So, he doesn’t care, and that’s that.
I tie my apron back on, adjusting the label on the uniform where it itches my back, pin my hair up out of my face, and then finally, after Pete threatens to call the owner, I make my way back to the floor. I might as well get on with being Boring Old Crystal, Old Maid at Twenty-One. Virgin waitress extraordinaire.
Maybe I’ll try that new cherry flavored ice cream this weekend.
Maddy looks pretty cheerful as she flirts with some 70-year-old guy, while I serve some old biddy who can’t decide if she’d rather have the burger or the all-day breakfast. Everything about the scene is so mundane, it just makes me want to cry. It’s not Knox — I’m over him totally. I’m not even asking Maddy what he said. It’s just that for that one night, everything seemed so exciting. Life with Knox was special, like the entire world went back into Technicolor, and now I’m stuck back in black and white. It’s hard to bear just continuing with my boring old life.
I sidle up to Maddy. “So, he wants the dress?”
“The dress?” Maddy looks almost surprised. What, like she didn’t know I was dying to know what he had to say? “Oh, yeah, he said no, you can keep it.”
“Like I will ever have anywhere to wear it to again,” I say sulkily now. “Maybe I will just sell it on Ebay, after all.”
She waves at someone across the room and heads to the counter to pick up some menus.
“So, what did he want, then?” I follow her like a lost shadow. I don’t think she’s being deliberately cruel; she just has the attention span of a gnat. And I did tell her I didn’t care what he had to say. But it’s not like Maddy to believe me.
“Yeah, about that. Give me a sec, and I’ll tell you.”
Three tables decide they are ready to order at once, and then there’s all the drinks to do, so it ends up being half an hour before it’s quiet enough to chat again. I don’t say anything else, because I don’t want to look stupid or, worse, look like I care about him.
“He needs another date,” she tells me.
I snort-laugh and then cover my face in embarrassment. But Jesus, seriously? “So what, he’s taking you this time?”
She spins and stares at me. “What? No! He wanted to know how he could convince you to go with him.”
Just ask says the treacherous part of my brain. But of course, I’m the one who ran away before he could get the chance.
“I don’t know,” I tell Maddy more honestly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Besides, why me?”
“I guess this woman he’s trying to do a deal with specifically asked for you?”
“Mrs. Scaravelli? That’s so funny! But I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. I mean, I barely talked to her. She’s just being polite.”
Maddy chews her lip and then holds my gaze. “I promised him I’d talk you into it.”
“Maddy, why?”
“Oh my God, you have to ask? Because he’s gorgeous. Because I’m starting to worry that you are going to die a virgin. Because I’m your friend, and I know you’ve fallen head over heels for this guy, even if you won’t admit it. Because you’ve been pining away all week,” she snapped back at me as she went to deal with table 14.
“That’s not true!” Even though I know it is. Then a horrible thought strikes me. “Did you tell him that?”
“Of course not!” But she’s not looking me in the eye again. Oh God, that’s all I need, is for him to know that after one date I was pining away like some love-struck teenager. He’ll probably change his mind now and be glad for the lucky escape.
But the truth is, there’s a part of my heart that is singing. I feel a lightness inside me that I haven’t felt since I first met him. I’ve got a silly grin on my face that returns every time I think I’ve got myself under control again. Is that hope?
I shouldn’t hope. I shouldn’t even think about another date that’s not a date. I should leave New York and never see the man again if I want to protect myself. I should tell him I’m not interested and to stop appearing in my life. I should tell him to go away forever.
I should, but I know I’m not going to. And as I clear up the tables, I can’t stop humming that terrible love song we waltzed to, My Prince and My Heart.
When I walked into Lido’s Loco and realized Crystal wasn’t there, I was disappointed, of course. I went back to plan B, talk to her friend and see if I could get her help in talking Crystal into a date for Friday night. And now, my mind is blown.
Crystal being on break is the best thing that could have happened to me, because I’m sure Crystal would not have told me any of the things that Maddy told me. Like that Crystal hasn’t stopped pining for me since that date. That she never talked to the press about the party and was horrified because she thought I had. That she really regretted nothing happened that night. And the one I would never have guessed: that she’s a virgin.
I keep replaying that night in my head, from dancing at the party to her crying out my name when she climaxed in the car, and it all plays out so much differently now.
This is huge. And I’m excited, because this is a thing I can understand. This is a thing I can fix. I kinda want to fist-pump in the air. I knew she wanted me; I knew I hadn’t misunderstood. What the hell is it about her that makes me act like a stupid teenaged boy?
Still, I can’t deny excitement flowing through me at Maddy’s revelations. She wasn’t rejecting me; she was just frightened. And poor little thing, why shouldn’t she be? I was so drawn to her: her smell, her touch, her everything. I had no idea that… it didn’t occur to me she might want me badly and still need me to take it slow.
Maddy as good as dared me to take her virginity, which is not something I feel like a woman’s best friend should do, if I’m honest. But she seemed pretty adamant that Crystal was into me. It wasn’t until the very end of the conversation that she changed her tone a bit.
“Don’t hurt her. You have this reputation, they say you are a playboy, and that’s okay by me, but Crystal is fragile. Oh my God, that sounds stupid. I’m not saying you have to wrap her in bubble wrap, or whatever.”
I grinned. “Unless she wants me to.”
Maddy grinned back; she can give as good as she takes. But then she was serious again. “She’s a good person. She takes life pretty seriously, maybe too seriously. I think… I think you are good for her. But please, be kind. Think about… Let her down easy, that’s all I want to say. Don’t hurt her.”
I’m stunned into silence at this. Maddy’s been all grins and fly comments up until now and this bit of seriousness seems so out of character, I can’t help but take her seriously.
Also, the rush of protectionism I felt towards pretty Crystal at the thought of some guy — even if that guy is me! — breaking her heart, well, that’s still a tight knot deep in my gut.
“I won’t hurt her,” I promised Maddy. “And I’ll…” I started to promise that I’ll make sure her first time is special, but even I realize, just in time, that this is a fucking stupid thing to say, and I shut up.
Maddy seemed like she got it, though. She leaned forward. “I just have one last thing,” she said in a low voice. She looked around furtively and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Whatever you do, don’t mention duct tape.”
I gaped a bit at that, but after a moment, I decided it was better not to ask. Maddy thought that Crystal was due back, so I got out of there quick after Maddy agreed to make sure that Crystal would be ready at the end of her shift on Friday evening.
Now I have two days to solve the biggest challenge: how to show a reluctant virgin the time of her life without letting her know or making assumptions. I’m used to getting my own way, and I know that I just assume I know what’s best for everyone. But I don’t want to run roughshod over Crystal again.
However, if I’m right, if she wants me as much as I think she wanted me that night, if she wants me even half as much as I want her, then I want it to be spectacular. I want there to be fireworks. I want it to be the most amazing thing that she has ever experienced. And then I want to do it again and again, all night.
I want this woman to be mine. I never believed in love at first sight before, but that’s because I’d not met Crystal yet.
I pick up the phone to call The Ritz-Carlton and book a suite and am thinking about what restaurant might most impress her when I
realize I’m being an idiot, again. This woman makes me stupid. The thing is, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about her, it’s that she’s not desperate for expensive champagne and flashing paparazzi and the most expensive drink at the most exclusive club. That’s not Crystal.
And I don’t want to make her feel like that’s how she should have to be. What I need is to make it special, but special for her. I need to shed my playboy reputation. I need her to know this night isn’t just special for her, it’s special for me because I want to be with her.
Which means the first thing I need to do is to find out more about her. It’s a good thing she has a best friend who can’t keep her mouth shut.
By Friday, I have the perfect fucking plan, and now all I have to do is convince Crystal that I’m the man for her. I’m oddly nervous at the thought. I can’t remember the last time I felt nervous.
But first, we need to find out what Mrs. Scaravelli wants.
When I pick Crystal up from her apartment, she seems pretty nervous. Once she’s in the car, though, she’s smiling again at the late evening sunshine on her face and the wind in her hair. I love that she loves the Ferrari almost as much as I do.
This time, I don’t second guess myself, and I put my hand on her thigh, right below the line of her dress.
She opens her eyes at that and gives me a sidelong look. I’m not really sure if it’s a yes or a no. I’m not sure that even she knows, and I don’t want to push her too fast. But then I remember that drive back from the party that night, my hand between her legs, her slick wetness. I squeeze her thigh and then pull it towards me, parting her legs. She doesn’t resist.
The road is straight and wide, and there’s very little traffic, so I’m not too concerned about the distraction as I trail my fingers to her inner thigh and then slowly up. Then I hit her panties which are already noticeably damp. I can feel the heat of her sex.
I slip a finger in under the soft silk, and she gasps. I slide that finger up her slick and soft pussy, stopping just before her clit. Her breathing has become heavy. I slide down again and back up, stopping just before her pleasure spot. I’m rewarded with a tiny moan as she lifts her hips towards my hands. She wants me as badly as she did the last time, and this time I’m not going to screw it up.
Cherry Pie Page 6
