“Love you too.”
After I hung up the phone, I opened my Kaplan practice LSAT book.
Chewing my pen, I pondered the first question for a few minutes, taking notes on the side of the page. Easy. I read the passage twice to make sure, checked the answer and confirmed I'd nailed it. Columbia here I come! I put the pen down and thought about what I'd make for dinner. I was in the mood for spaghetti and my homemade meatballs. Although meatballs were probably not a good idea before a date. What if they bloated me? I'd make my homemade marinara sauce minus the meat instead. Maybe I'd invite Marissa over. I glanced at my half-opened closet and realized I had no idea what to wear on my date. I wished my mom had been home but she'd probably have told me to wear whatever I wanted. With slimming black pants.
* * *
I was meeting Randall at Vero at 7:00 and so it made sense to go straight from work since both my office and the bar were in the 50's. I had picked up a form fitting black v-neck cashmere sweater the night before at Lord & Taylor to wear with my favorite black pants. Sexy yet elegant. It was my first “first” date in a decade and I was so nervous, my legs felt like Jell-O as I entered the bar and spotted Randall talking to the bartender.
His back was to me, but his butt looked familiar so I approached where he was standing and smiled at the female bartender, who looked away from Randall and gave me a once over. Patting Randall on the back, I said, “Hi. Sorry I'm late.”
Turning toward me, Randall grinned and said, “You're right on time, Jane Alexis.” Then he handed me the expansive menu of wine choices and said, “Let's get you a drink.”
Noting his full glass of white wine, I asked, “What are you drinking?”
“Cassandra,” he said to the bartender, who had walked to the other side of the bar. When she looked over, he said, “What is this fine wine you chose for me?”
Cassandra ran a hand through her smooth long blonde hair and shook her head casually. “It's an Australian sauvignon blanc. Fruity just like you!”
Shaking his finger at her, Randall said, “Hey don't give my date here the wrong idea.” Then he looked at me and said, “I assure you. I'm no fruit.”
Giggling, I said, “I wasn't concerned.” Glancing around the relatively un-crowded seating area, I said, “So, want to get a table or something?” I felt Cassandra's eyes on us and really didn't need her eavesdropping on our date.
“Anything you want, Jane. Let's just grab the menu so you can take your time choosing your wine. We can order appetizers too if you want.” Then he looked me deep in the eyes, winked, and led me to an open table. When the palm of his hand touched the small of my back, I felt a jolt of electricity through my entire body. My legs still felt wobbly and I was glad I chose a black top in case I broke out in a sweat. I was unaccustomed to feeling so wonderfully ill at ease in a guy's company.
About an hour and one-and-a-half glasses of Gewürztraminer later, peppered with a few cubes of cheese, Randall and I were making moon eyes at each other and holding hands across the table. He had just told me the most charming story about how he got lost at the zoo when he was seven and his grandmother only found him because he told the security guard his name was GI Joe, his favorite toy at the time.
“What about you, Jane? Any childhood stories you want to confide?”
I consciously avoided biting my lip as I thought of a memory I wasn't too embarrassed to share. “Well, there was the time I played the wrong song at my piano recital and-”
Interrupting me, Randall said, “You play the piano? Sexy and talented.”
Blushing, I said, “I actually was pretty good for a while. Anyway, I was supposed to play Mozart's Papagano, but my teacher had just taught me “Hero” by Mariah Carey and so I played that instead because I thought it was cooler. But, it was a classical recital and I wasn't allowed to watch television for a week as a punishment. And I missed the season finale of Boy Meets World – my favorite show at the time.”
I instantly regretted telling him a true story and wished I'd come up with a lie that would make me appear charming rather than completely dorky, but Randall didn't seemed to notice. He reached over, moved a wavy strand of hair away from my face, smiled and said, “Jane, the rebel. I like it.”
Bravely, I responded, “I have my moments.”
“I like that in a girl,” he said with a soft smile. “So, ready to head out? It's a nice night and I'd like to walk you home.”
“A walk home would be nice.”
“And I promise I won't ask for an invite inside. Although I might try to kiss you.”
My lips had barely touched anything besides food and my toothbrush in the past year and I thought I might die if they weren't kissed soon. “And I might let you.”
Throwing a wad of cash on the table, Randall stood up. “Then let's get out of here before you change your mind.”
As I grabbed his hand and began walking towards the exit, I said, “I won't change my mind.”
With his free hand, Randall waved goodbye to Cassandra and followed me outside.
* * *
“It was so good,” I said to Marissa over bagels and coffee that Saturday.
“Yay! I can live vicariously through your amazing date since I haven't had a great one in probably over a year.” Marissa frowned. “It's always the ones I don't like who won't leave me alone and the ones I like who never call. Not that I've even liked anyone in a few months.”
I reached over and squeezed Marissa's hand. “I'm sorry you're in such a long dry spell. Maybe you should switch dating sites. Guys on eHarmony are probably less likely to flake after spending two hours completing the profile. And there are some cute ones!” The only reason I could think to explain why Marissa was meeting such unappealing guys was that she was on the free sites. You got what you paid for! She was pretty. At least I thought so. Bob said she was a “sleeper.” At first glance, you might not notice her, but if you looked twice, you'd realize how attractive she was with her large hazel eyes, full lips and thick dark hair. He also said she had a nice rack. So unless she spent the entire date babbling other people's secrets, which actually wouldn't shock me, it had to be the guys.
“eHarmony is no better. When I told Katherine what happened with your match Nate, she agreed. All the sites are the same!”
I took another sip of coffee and shook my head at her. “You told Katherine about Nate?” Of course she did.
Marissa's face turned red. “I'm sorry, Jane. I know, but Katherine met Martin online. She's been there!”
“Whatever.” I didn't want to talk about Katherine. “Back to my date!”
Nodding eagerly and probably relieved for a change of topic, Marissa said, “Yes, do tell!”
“I forgot how much I loved to kiss! He was such a good kisser too.”
Raising her eyebrows, Marissa said, “Better than Bob? You always said Bob's kisses still blew you away even after nine years.”
I had said that. Whenever Bob and I argued over what movie to see or where to go for dessert and I was this close to winning, Bob would dip me into a Hollywood kiss and I'd let him have his way. “Not better. Just different. Which made it even more exciting.”
“How'd you end things?”
“After kissing on my front steps for about twenty minutes, he said he was reluctantly going to head home but that he'd call me soon. He sent me a text this morning asking if I would be around tomorrow night to chat. He said he was working all weekend.”
With mock annoyance, she said, “Jane, if you end up marrying this guy, I might have to kill you since I've been on at least forty dates in the past two years and haven't made it past a third date.”
“We've only had one date. Nothing to get excited about yet,” I said. Secretly, I was way excited but I didn't want Marissa to feel bad that I had better luck with men. Maybe my good fortune would rub off on her. “Are you OK, by the way?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering if you ever think about Do
vid.” Dovid had been Marissa's only boyfriend. They'd met when Marissa went on a European tour the summer after we graduated college and were on and off for a few years. They had ended things permanently two years earlier.
“I don't really think about him much anymore.” Turning red, she said, “But he's in my dreams every few months.”
“Really?” I shivered. “Gross.” I was not a fan of Dovid. He was extremely controlling and possessive. The only positive influence he'd had on Marissa was getting her to quit smoking. He'd threatened to break up with her if she didn't.
Marissa shook her head at me. “I know you hated him. Trust me, I would never go back.” Looking sad, she said, “Although I miss regular sex, and with my dating luck, I worry I'll never have any again.”
Laughing, I said, “That's funny. You're afraid of never having sex again and I'm terrified of the opposite since I've only been with one person my entire life.”
Marissa put her arm around me. “It's like riding a bike, my friend. No worries.”
CHAPTER 6
“You're so sexy, Jane,” Randall whispered, blowing his warm breath in my ear. “I love your curves.”
Tingles shooting through me, I whispered back, “You're not so bad yourself.” I traced the outline of his face with my fingers before drawing him into another kiss. “I haven't felt this way in a long, long time, Randall,” I confessed.
“Hold that thought.” Waving towards the waitress, he said, “Can we get another round, darlin'?”
We were on the roof at the Gramercy Hotel, sitting side by side on a couch, and I scanned the room wondering if anyone was watching us make out. There were some girls sitting a few tables away. They were glancing our way and I placed my hand on top of Randall's.
Handing me a full glass of wine, he said, “Where were we? Oh yeah, you were saying you hadn't felt this way in a long time. What way would that be?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess ‘content’ is the right word for how I'm feeling.”
“Well, that's good! I hope I have something to do with that.”
“You do,” I assured him.
“Good,” he said. “Then I must kiss you again!”
Sliding even closer to him with my head a mere inch from his, I said, “Go for it.”
After another amazing kiss, he pulled away from me, smiled and said, “Umm, I can taste your wine.” Then he licked his lips and said, “Good stuff.”
“Good stuff indeed,” I repeated before kissing him again.
I continued to revel in the fullness of his lips against mine and the contrast of his cold hands rubbing the warm skin on my back. I couldn't think of anything interesting to say but kissing instead of talking was fine with me. Randall didn't seem to mind either. Stopping momentarily to catch my breath, I smiled at him.
He smiled back. “Great eyes, Jane. Not quite brown, but not green. Almost gold.”
“I call them amber.”
Lacing his fingers with mine, he nodded. “Amber is about right. So Amber, want to get out of here?”
Startled since I was happy to stay on that couch forever, I said, “Why? Are you bored with me already?”
“Never! I just thought we'd take this party somewhere else. My place. Or yours. Whatever you're most comfortable with.”
I swallowed hard. “Um, I'm kind of happy here. Not quite ready to, well…” I didn't know how to complete the sentence.
“No worries, Jane,” he said. Kissing the top of my head, he repeated, “No worries at all. We can stay here as long as you want.”
Relieved, I placed my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. “It's just… I just got out of a very long relationship and think I should take things slow.” I opened my eyes, sat up and faced Randall. “You understand, right?”
Randall nodded and kissed my forehead again. “Of course. We have all the time in the world.”
Content once again, I took another sip of wine and returned my head to Randall's shoulder.
We left after we finished that round of drinks since Randall had to drop his roommate at the airport early the next morning. He hailed me a cab back to the Upper East Side and as he opened the door for me, said, “Get home safely, sweetheart.”
“I will. Thanks for another great night!”
“My pleasure.”
Reluctant to leave, I asked, “One more kiss?”
“I could kiss you all night, Jane.” Motioning towards the driver, he said, “But the meter's running and the big guy here probably wants to get going. We'll have to save the kissing for next time. Something to look forward to.”
Smiling, I stepped into the cab and repeated, “Yes, something to look forward to” before Randall closed the door and waved goodbye.
I waved back and watched him walk away and back into the hotel. “Eighty-second and Lexington, thanks,” I said before resting my head back against the seat and closing my eyes for the ride.
CHAPTER 7
From her seat on the opposite side of the kitchen table, my mom said, “I ran into the Krauss's at Stu Leonard's last week. Did you know that Bob was moving in with his new girlfriend in a few months?”
“Of course I knew, Mom. Bob and I are still friends.” I refused to give her the satisfaction of thinking she knew something about my ex-boyfriend that I didn't.
“Oh, because Arlene mentioned that Bob just told you about Trish a couple of weeks ago. They've been dating several months now.”
I got up to bring over the coffee cake I had made, and with my back to my family said, “I know about Trish, Mom. I'm happy for them. Besides, I'm dating someone too.”
Piping in, Claire said, “Don't get ahead of yourself, Jane. It's only been two dates.”
I turned around and glared at my sister. “Two great dates, Claire!”
“Yes, Jane. What does this Randall do?” my mom asked.
“He works in business. Doing something. Not sure,” I said, sitting back down and placing a piece of cake on everyone's plate.
“Business doing something,” my dad repeated. “Way to ask the right questions, Pumpkin.” He leaned over the table and cut another slice of cake.
Ignoring my dad, I said, “He makes good money, whatever he does. Very generous too. He wouldn't let me pay for anything on either of our dates.”
“Good,” my mom said, taking a dainty bite of cake. “Good cake, Jane.”
Not bothering to use her fork, Claire shoved a big piece of cake in her mouth and after swallowing said, “As always, this cake is awesome, little sister! So when are you going out with him again?”
Fidgeting with my cell phone under the table, I said, “Probably this week.” Or as soon as he calls and asks.
“Sounds promising,” my mom said. Looking in Claire's direction, she said, “On to you. Any news?”
Shaking her head, Claire said, “Still not pregnant. We're having fun trying, though.”
I was glad her husband, Kevin, wasn't around. He hated when she mentioned sex in front of my parents. So did my father.
Turning back to me, my dad asked, “How's the studying going?”
The LSAT. In favor of studying, I had been writing in my journal about Randall. “Fine. It's going fine.”
“So which train did you girls want to take back into the city?”
“In a rush to send us back, Mom?” Claire teased.
“Of course not. Just want to make sure your father is around to give you a ride.”
“Why can't you do it?” Claire asked.
Instead of answering, my mom got up from the table, stood behind my dad's chair and squeezed his shoulder before walking out of the room. From down the hall, she called out, “Girls, let's get going” which, I assumed was my cue to chug the rest of my coffee and freshen up.
After brunch, my mom, Claire and I headed out to the Tanger outlets. I bought a few sweaters at Ann Taylor Loft for 19 dollars and tried on a few pairs of jeans at J Crew.
Modeling a pair of black ones for them in the dressing r
oom, I checked myself out in the 360 degree mirror. “What do you guys think?”
After eyeing me up and down for what felt like a really long time, my mom finally nodded her approval and said, “I like them. Dark black is good for you. Save the colors for your upper body.”
“I know, Mom. Thanks for insinuating that I have a huge ass.” Standing next to my size 2 mother, I was well aware that I had junk in the trunk.
Giving me a kiss on the cheek, my mom said, “You have a lovely figure, Jane! I just want you to play up your best features for that boy, Randall.”
Turning to Claire, who was examining a silk scarf for pulls, I asked, “What about you, Claire? Like them?”
She looked up, smiled brightly and said, “Love them. Your ass looks really good.”
I turned to my mother to shoot her a look, but she was holding a cardigan against her chest and looking at her reflection in the mirror.
Winking, Claire said, “Third date material, if you know what I mean.”
I had no clue what she meant, which I assumed she realized by my blank expression. So, while our mother generously got in line to pay for our items, she whispered, “Third date rule.”
Still clueless, I said, “What does that mean?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I can't believe your girlfriends didn't share this info with you.”
“What info?”
Grabbing my elbow and directing me to an unoccupied corner of the store, she said, “Well, I haven't been single in a while, but the word on the street is that the third date equals sex these days.”
More than a little aware that my next date with Randall would be our third, I said, “Isn't that kind of quick? I was dating Bob for almost a year before we did it!”
“You were sixteen.”
“Seventeen.” Much less slutty.
“Anyway, I agree that sometimes people just aren't ready at that point and it's not set in stone, but seriously, Jane, it's been a while. Aren't you horny?”
Half truthfully, I replied, “Of course.”
There was part of me that was so horny I had wanted to climb on top of Randall on the first date. But there was also a part of me that was so terrified, I wanted to go home, put on my feety pajamas and hibernate for the winter.
A State of Jane Page 3
