by Diane Barnes
Unbelievable. “Gina Rossi,” I say.
Cooper pushes his tongue against the side of his mouth so that his left cheek puffs out. “Gina Rossi,” he says quietly.
“Over the past several weeks, Gina and I examined several possibilities for maximizing efficiencies in the editing process.” He looks at me as he says my name. “We have determined the best opportunity to improve the turnaround time is to implement an analyst rating system.” Here in this room he is slow-talking Cooper, the vice president who doesn’t know me.
Luci glances at the clock and then bends toward my ear. “At this rate, we’ll be here all day,” she whispers. Jamie shoots us a look, and Luci leans away from me.
“The degree of editing a report receives will be determined by the analyst’s rating.” Cooper’s tone is authoritative, and his colleagues are all turned in their chairs toward him. He goes on to describe the different levels of editing. As I listen to him speak and observe how the other executives are enraptured by his every word, I realize how foolish I have been to daydream about him. He is a well-respected senior vice president. I am a copy editor whose name he can’t even remember. Of course, he isn’t interested in me. I bet Monique is a doctor or lawyer or maybe even an engineer.
When Cooper finishes his presentation, the executives grill Luci, Jamie, and me about how we determined the ratings. Jamie answers all the questions. Every now and then, Luci clarifies something. I sit silently with my hands folded on my lap. I feel Cooper watching me and can sense his disappointment. Say something, anything, I imagine him thinking. When the questions are done, the vice presidents agree to take a few days reviewing Cooper’s proposal before deciding whether to accept it, and the three of us are dismissed.
After Monday, the rest of the week drags. I don’t see Ethan because he’s redoing a kitchen for a house on Nantucket and is staying on the island. Cooper no longer calls or e-mails. I guess now that our project is over, he has no reason to. Even lunch is boring. Most days, Luci eats with Peter instead of me. They sit at a corner table in the cafeteria, talking nonstop and laughing as other employees cast sideways glances at them.
Neesha calls every day. She’s definitely not as good at waiting as I am, because she begins each of our conversations with the same inpatient whine, “We still haven’t heard.” Then she goes on to talk about renovations she’s planning for the house, including a sunroom in the back.
We haven’t heard back from the 9:07, and Jamie says it may be a week or so before we do. In the meantime, it’s full edits for everyone as usual. Cooper hasn’t submitted any reports this week, but Gail Germain has. Of course I’m stuck working on them.
Chapter 34
Luci and I are sitting at a high top in the lounge at Last Chance. When we got here just after five o’clock, we had the room to ourselves. Now, at almost six, all the tables are full, and there’s a mob crowding the bar. Luci glances toward the door and then at her watch; she’s been doing that since we got here. “Whom are you expecting?”
She flashes me a smile. “Pete—” She laughs before she can get his whole name out.
“Seriously, what’s going on between you two?”
Luci leans across the table toward me. “I think you know exactly what’s going on.” She laughs wickedly, sits back, and flags down our waitress, a heavyset brunette with a hairy mole under her left nostril. Luci stares at the mole but doesn’t say anything.
“What do you need?” the waitress asks.
Luci narrows her eyes. Here we go. She’s going to comment on the mole. I know it. Finally, she looks into the waitress’s eyes. “Another round.”
“You got it,” the waitress says. She takes Luci’s empty martini glass, but I still have a third of my drink left so she leaves it.
Luci excuses herself to go to the restroom. I finish my drink, pull out my phone, and send a message to Ethan. “What are you doing?” He’s still on Nantucket this weekend working on the kitchen. I imagine right now he’s at a bar with the rest of his crew having dinner. A moment later he sends a picture of a mug of beer next to a plate of steamers. I snap a picture of my martini and send it to him.
“Ciao, Bella,” a familiar male voice says. “Expecting a call?” I look up. Cooper is standing in front of the table.
I stare without speaking. Only Ajee has ever called me “Bella.” “What did you just say?” He points to my phone, but I shake my head. “No, what did you call me?”
“Look, Gina, I’m sorry about what happened at the 9:07. I lost my train of thought.” His cheeks turn bright red. “You looked so . . .” His voice trails off, and he studies me with that squinty look.
I looked so what? Out of place in a room filled with executives?
The waitress appears next to Cooper and places the chocolate martinis on the table. Cooper lifts his hand and swipes under his nose like he’s trying to remove something on his face. He plants himself in Luci’s seat and studies our drinks. “You girls don’t mess around,” he says, picking up Luci’s glass for a taste while I take a sip of mine. “You could hurt yourself with this,” Cooper warns, returning Luci’s drink to the table. He’s right. The martinis are dangerously good.
“So, what are you doing here?” I ask, imagining that Monique must be busy with her kids tonight.
Cooper blinks really fast. He points across the room where a bunch of our coworkers are sitting. When did they get here? Luci is standing at the head of their table laughing at something Peter just said. “It’s karaoke night.”
“Are you going to sing?” I ask.
“I might.”
I take another swallow of my martini. “That I would like to see.”
Cooper stands. “Well then, stick around.”
He leaves me alone at the table. My phone buzzes with another message from Ethan. “Don’t do anything crazy.” As soon as I finish reading the message, my phone is ripped from my hands. “Who are you texting?” Luci shrieks. She studies the screen for a moment, gives me a look of disapproval, and powers my phone off. “Gina, don’t always be so accessible to him. Make him work for it.” She slips my phone into her pocket. “Let tonight be about having fun with your coworkers. Don’t give him a second thought.” She picks up her drink and tilts her head in the direction of the table where Peter and Cooper are sitting. “Let’s join the others.” She marches off, and I follow.
Two and a half hours later, I am sandwiched in a booth between Cooper and Luci. I have had three martinis, and the waitress places another in front of me. Luci must have ordered it. The waitress’s mole looks bigger than it did at the start of the night. Cooper discreetly slides the drink in his direction and pushes a glass of water toward me. I have to admit I like that he is looking out for me. It makes me feel safe.
Peter struts around the makeshift stage doing a rap version of Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl.” Throughout his performance, he points to Luci, who laughs while clapping her hands. When he’s done with the song, he pushes himself into the booth next to Luci, forcing me to press against Cooper. His body is rock-solid. I flash back to the day Neesha and I saw him jogging up Towering Heights Lane. A vision of his six-pack abdomen pops into my head. I fight an urge to lift his shirt and touch his stomach. I feel myself getting hot and shift my weight away from Cooper toward Luci. She nudges me back toward Cooper. He leans sideways, so close his mouth is by my ear. I feel his hot breath on my face. He whispers, “Are you okay?”
I turn my head toward him. His face is so near that if I leaned a quarter of an inch closer, our foreheads would be touching. A piece of hair falls over my eye. He lifts his hand and pushes the hair behind my ear. I lick my lips and edge closer. His glance drops from my eyes to my mouth. He’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. I close my eyes. I pucker my lips. I feel his fingertip rub the corner of my mouth. I unpucker my lips and open my eyes. “Chocolate,” he says. He slowly raises his finger to his mouth and sucks it off.
I jerk away from him. I have to get out of here before I d
o something dumb. I tap Luci on the back. “Let me out. I’m going to sing.”
Peter and Luci both look at me in surprise, but they stand so that I can get out of the booth. Cooper grabs my arm. At first his grip is tight, but he immediately lightens it, and gently slides his hand down my forearm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
What I want is for him to keep touching me like that. What is wrong with me? “Absolutely.”
He releases my arm. “Break a leg.”
My feet feel as if they are encased in cement as I walk to the stage. I take my time flipping through the playbook. The words appear to be jumping all over the page. I decide on Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” and tell the DJ. The music starts. I just stand there. Everyone watches me. I try to open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
Luci pushes Peter out of the booth and rushes to the stage. She points at the DJ. “Start again.” He starts the music over. Luci puts her arm around me and sings. She sounds awful. The tune is so wrong that I wonder if she’s ever heard the song before. I sing over her to drown her out. Peter and Cooper pump their fists.
Luci stops singing, but I keep going. Soon the entire room is clapping and cheering for me. I sneak another look at Cooper. He’s turned in his seat so that he has a clear view of me. He’s smiling. When our eyes meet, he gives me another fist pump. When I finish the song, Luci hugs me. “You were great.”
“Thank you.”
Cooper and my other coworkers are on their feet giving me a standing ovation while the rest of the people in the room remain seated but clap enthusiastically.
I laugh and bow. Karaoke makes it so easy to make a room of drunken people think you can sing. Just pick a song by a singer with a horrible voice. I mean, if I had chosen an Adele or Kelly Clarkson song, I would have been booed off the stage. But Cyndi Lauper? Anyone can sing better than she does.
Luci leads me back to our table. “Who knew you could sing?” Peter says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Luci. Before I climb back in the booth, Cooper stands to get out. “My turn,” he says. He brushes against me as he heads to the stage.
I get settled in the booth while Cooper looks through the playbook. He clearly does not have the same karaoke strategy as I do. He chooses “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. The whole room goes silent. I swear to God, if I were to close my eyes, I’d swear ol’ Blue Eyes himself were the one on stage crooning. When Cooper’s done with his song, the entire room leaps to their feet. Peter starts a chant of “Encore, encore, encore.” Cooper says something to the DJ, and then music that I instantly recognize begins to play. Nat King Cole’s “When I Fall in Love.” This is the song I always imagined Ethan and I would dance to at our wedding. I feel my eyes filling with tears as Cooper sings. I don’t know if it’s because his voice is so beautiful or because of the meaning I’ve always assigned to the song.
Before Cooper returns to the table, I go to the restroom to get ahold of myself. I don’t think I’m gone that long, but when I return karaoke is over for the evening, and Cooper is alone in the booth. “Where’s everyone?”
“They all went home.” His eyes bore into mine.
“Where’s Luci?”
“She left with Peter.”
I stare at Cooper. I love the little wrinkles near his eyes. They make him look sophisticated. “She left?” I stammer. “She’s my ride. My car is still at the office.”
Cooper nods. “I really don’t think you should be driving. I told Luci I’d take you home.”
I can’t go home with Cooper Allen. I don’t trust myself to be alone with him. Oh God, what is wrong with me? “I’m fine. You can just take me to my car.”
“Okay,” he says. A wave of disappointment ripples through me. I expected him to put up more of a fight than that.
We walk out of the restaurant to Cooper’s car. He opens the door for me.
When he pulls out of the restaurant parking lot, he turns left toward the highway instead of right to the office. “Hey,” I shout. “My car is at the office.”
“Gina, you had three martinis. You shouldn’t be driving.” He’s using his I-know-better-than-you work voice, which automatically makes me want to argue with him.
“I’m not drunk.”
“Maybe not, but why risk it?” He makes it sound so reasonable that it now seems pointless to disagree. Cooper Allen is taking me home. Cooper Allen, whom I almost kissed. Cooper Allen, who caressed me. Cooper T. Allen, a senior vice president. Cooper Allen, who forgot my name on Monday.
He catches me staring at him. “Where did you learn to sing like that?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I could ask you the same thing.”
An image of me and Mrs. Patel sitting at the piano in the Patels’ living room pops into my head. “I used to sing with my friend Neesha’s mom when I was really small.”
Cooper turns to look at me. He flashes his perfect smile. “Well, you have a beautiful voice.”
I stare at him without speaking for a beat longer than is comfortable. He turns his attention back to the road. “Thank you. So do you,” I finally say. And a beautiful smile and beautiful six-pack abs. Oh boy, I really must be drunk. Why am I having these thoughts about Cooper?
“So,” Cooper says, “Luci and Peter. I would have never put those two together.”
I sing the theme to Beauty and the Beast, and Cooper joins in.
“I’m surprised you know that song.” Of course he knows it; Miss Minivan has kids. He’s probably watched the movie with them dozens of times. I see him, a Catherine Zeta-Jones look-alike, a small boy in a baseball uniform—Tyler—and an unnamed little girl snuggling together on the couch. Cooper even made a batch of Jiffy Pop for the viewing.
He laughs. “It’s my niece’s favorite. I must have watched it with her at least five times.”
The online dating picture of Cooper playing Candy Land pops into my head. “So, you like kids?”
“Sure,” he says. “Who doesn’t?”
Ethan, I think. Ethan does not like children.
“Why did you choose ‘When I Fall in Love’?” The words spill out without me even knowing I was going to ask the question.
He glances at me. I can tell he’s trying to decide whether he should tell me. He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always loved that song.” He looks at me again. “I guess it’s just something that I’ve always believed.”
“What, that when you fall in love it will be forever?”
Small pink circles splotch his cheeks. He nods.
“So you’ve never been in love?”
He exhales loudly but doesn’t answer. Maybe right now he’s realizing that he loves Miss Minivan.
“Well, you’ve never been married anyway,” I say.
“Marriage is something I intend to do just once,” he says.
“That will be nice for your wife,” I say. “She’ll always know she was your first choice.” I feel tears building behind my eyes.
“Gina, what are you talking about?”
“Never mind, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Hey, are you all right?” He pats my thigh.
A tear has escaped and is running down my face. I wipe it away and muster up the strength for a smile. “I’m fine.” I switch on the radio. Pink is singing about punching someone. I’d like to punch Ethan. How can he not want kids?
Chapter 35
I wake up the next morning still dressed in my clothes from the day before. A glass of water and a bottle of aspirin are waiting for me on my nightstand. I have no recollection of putting them there. A blurred image of Cooper with his arm around my waist leading me upstairs to my apartment and into my bedroom forms in the back of my mind. He slowly lowered me to the bed and pulled my shoes off before pulling the blanket over me.
“I like that you look out for me,” I whispered.
“I like looking after you,” he said. He brushed his fingertips over my lips and gently kissed me.
I startle to an upright position a
nd reach for the water. Surely that didn’t really happen? It must have been a dream. I pop open the aspirin and down two. Now, I see Cooper placing them on my nightstand. “You are not going to feel good tomorrow.”
“Well,” I corrected. “I am not going to feel well.”
“Actually,” he said, “you are going to feel like hell.” He left and returned with the wastebasket from the bathroom. “This might come in handy.” He placed it next to my bed.
I look down now, and sure enough, the wastebasket is there. Could these be real memories and not recollections from a dream? Did Cooper really kiss me? I brush my fingers over my lips. Of course, he didn’t kiss me. He’s with Miss Minivan.
I get up and make my way to the bathroom. My reflection in the vanity mirror scares me. My bloodshot eyes are half the size as usual, and my skin has a distinctive greenish tint. A wave of nausea hits, and I collapse in front of the toilet. I never drink martinis. Why did I drink them last night? And then it comes back to me. Luci promised they’d help me stop obsessing about Ethan. She was right. I barely gave him a second thought. I have to call him now. I force myself to stand and look for my phone. I find my purse and rifle through it, but my phone is missing. Then I remember Luci confiscated it. I can’t even drive to her place to get it because my car is at work.
I will e-mail Luci and ask her to drive me to my car. I fire up my computer and log in to my e-mail. I have one message from Cooper. “Make sure you drink plenty of water today. CA.”
It’s so easy to write things in an e-mail you would never say in person. I type my response. “Did you kiss me last night?” I imagine the look of confusion on Cooper’s face when he reads the message and then see his fingers flying across the keyboard. “Of course not. Why would I ever kiss you? I can’t even remember your name.”
