“I do. But what if I get caught? Turn your head a little to the right.”
“So come after five thirty. Once they’ve said their speech and toasted the latest firm success they’ll go to the back room and you’ll just be another bar patron meeting up with friends for a drink. Trust me; they never come back out of that room until closing time. And that’s only to see who’s left at the bar so they can pop in on them at nine o’clock sharp, hoping to catch a hangover on firm time.” I can’t speak from personal experience, but another associate warned me against it at my first happy hour and I’ve never wanted to tempt fate. Apparently, those unfortunate enough to be marked received a high priority assignment on their desks in the morning with a three o’clock deadline.
“Okay. I’ll come, but not until six.” Max’s curiosity outweighs his loyalty to firm policy. “At least someone will be there to fix your hair if you mess it up. Which I’m only doing because you can’t look like warmed over dog shit in that dress. Hold still.”
“Okay, if you’re coming then you have to tell me why you suddenly dislike the idea of me seeing Lucan O’Reilly,” I demand. “Your tune changed as soon as you saw that black calling card.”
Max is quiet just long enough for me to know that whatever comes out of his mouth next has been censured. “It’s pretentious, that’s all. Who goes around leaving calling cards these days? There wasn’t even a phone number on it.”
“Is that all?” I play along, not believing for a second that that is the real reason behind his gall. “Really Max, that’s nothing to get all twisted up about. The no phone number thing is weird but maybe he doesn’t want just anyone calling him. He is one of New York’s most eligible bachelors after all.”
Max shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”
***
At ten until five, I am ready to go. Linds and I always head out just before everyone else to beat the elevator crowd. Lindsey is waiting for me in the lobby with one of the guys from litigation, Brooks somethingoranother. She is gives me a look that says ‘don’t say anything,’ so I don’t. We are the only people in the elevator so I have plenty of room to check out my outfit in the mirrored walls on the way down.
“What is with you?” Lindsey asks me. Brooks looks me over and I can tell from his confusion that he finds nothing in my behavior abnormal. That’s because he’s never ridden in an elevator with me before.
“Nothing,” I say, realizing she has noticed I’m not holding my breath. In fact, I’m twirling around checking out the back of my dress. “What do you think of these shoes? They were eight hundred dollars.” I put my hand over my mouth as if to suppress a gasp.
“No shit?” Brooks asks. “I don’t think I have ever paid that much for an item of clothing. Not even that stupid suit they make us wear.”
He had to pay for that. Cheap bastards. Shock does not begin to explain the look on Lind’s face and I am sure it has nothing to do with my shoes. I have some explaining to do.
I am careful not to break off my new heels in a New York City pothole as we cross the street. The bottoms are scuffed, so no taking them back now. The hostess leads us to a section with little signs on the tables that read Carson & Jones. I order a wine spritzer. I’m still soured on wine from the other night so it will insure I’m not tanked by the time nine o’clock rolls around. Gradually the other associates file in and fill up the rest of the tables. At five thirty sharp, Carson and Jones make their grand entrance.
“We have a very special order of congratulations this evening for Ms. Abri Cole,” begins Mr. Jones with a bit of flourish as he searches the crowd for me. I doubt he knows who I am exactly so I stand up and smile in his direction.
“Ms. Cole, as you know, is one of our family law associates. She signed up very special new client this week. She also landed her first six-digit retainer. Let’s have a round of applause for Ms. Cole.”
I am glad word has already reached the top about my recent addition to the firm’s coffers. I smile and nod. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. Thank you for the opportunity.”
Yes, it’s a bit brown nosey, but I am still a young associate as far as the firm is concerned and it’s never too early to start scoring points towards making partner. Linds kicks me under the table and covers a giggle with her hand. I try to kick her back and miss.
“Good, good. Okay you pups enjoy the evening and we will see you back to work at nine sharp.” With that, Messer’s Jones and Carson make their way to the back room to schmooze with whatever high profile client they are courting at the moment.
“Bar run!” Brooks announces, obviously relieved the pageantry is over and we can enjoy ourselves. “You ladies need anything?”
“I’ll take another one, B.” Lindsey smiles and hands Brooks her glass.
“I’m good, thanks,” I indicate holding up my half-full glass. “B?” I give Lindsey a sideways glance and take another sip.
“So?” She sounds a little defensive. “It’s nothing. Mr. Jones put me on a case that has a civil litigation claim so I have to work with him and some of the other guys on it. We’ve had a few late nights.”
“I’m happy for you and your late nights,” I laugh. “Your secret’s safe with me. I know the office policy.” Associates are not permitted to date one another and Linds and Brooks risked being passed up for promotion, or worse, if the partners find out. Brooks is back from the bar with Lindsey’s margarita and a beer.
“So I’m sure Linds told you that we are breaking the rules a bit,” he asks, eyeing us both to see if we will lie.
“I won’t say a thing. Just be good to my friend or I will tell Jones that Max wants to do a stint in the civil lit department.” I flash him a mischievous grin. Linds kicks me under the table again. I had better not have a bruise.
“Oh God no! I promise I will never do anything to upset her Abri. Just keep Max!” Brooks clutches his chest in mock heart attack at the mere thought. It is well known in the office that while Max is a good assistant, he is prone to moodiness and droning on about celebrity gossip until you want to punch him. I can tune him out and thus he has been assigned to me for several years.
“Speaking of Max, I told him to meet me here after the partners left. He wants to sneak a peek at my—eh, Mr. O’Reilly.”
Lindsey raises an eyebrow at me. I feel I should probably explain before she explodes but I want to wait for Max so he can corroborate my story. Speaking of the devil, Max is walking towards us and I waive him down. “Hey! You made it. The partners have been gone about five minutes. Grab a drink and a chair.”
Max heads to the bar and returns with a Coors Light. I am a little jealous. I like beer a lot better than wine, especially Coors Light. Brooks and Lindsey look surprised that he hasn’t come back with something sporting an umbrella.
“What?” Max asks a little defensively, noticing their surprised looks. “I drink beer. I also grill burgers and watch football.” It was true. Max did follow football. “I think those tight pants are awesome,” he adds for effect. I work to change the subject.
“I was about to tell these two about our encounter today.” I am eager to get another perspective on the situation and develop a game plan before nine o’clock arrives. “Remember the guy I stepped on yesterday?”
“Uh, yeah, the hot one that was totally checking you out, why?” Linds asks and then squeezes Brooks’ hand to show him she isn’t into this guy at all.
“I ended up in the elevator alone with him this morning. I didn’t know it was him at first until he spoke.”
“No!” she gasps. “So you talked to him and he asked you out? How romantic.”
“No, well, not in the elevator. I didn’t even look at him when he thanked me for holding the door for him. He shows up at the office and this one over here and Stacey let him in.”
Max cuts me off to confirm that this is true. Disapproving or not, he is into the story.
“So I go in my office there is this god of a man standing in there. Absolutely the hottest
thing I’ve ever seen. He tells me he’s seen me in the building and had to meet me.” I leave out the parts about me being up all night thinking about Lucan and how my soul feels drawn to him and how I’ve somehow decided that I like calling him Lucan better than Luke. “Anyways, he asks me out for tonight and here I am.” I finally take a breath.
“Oh my God, Abri, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. How did you keep that to yourself all day?”
“I guess I didn’t want to get all psyched up and then he not show,” I reply.
“Whatever,” Max interjects. “He’s coming.”
We manage to kill nearly three hours dissecting my first meeting with Lucan and getting to know Brooks. I envy their new love glow and secretly hope I’ll be sporting one of my own soon.
“We should do a trip to the ladies room to freshen up.” Lindsey interrupts my daydream. “You said he’d be here at nine, right? It’s about fifteen minutes ‘til.”
Max hands me a bag with the flat iron and extra hair spray. God I love Max, he is awesome. Lindsey and I head to the bathroom to do a once over.
“I’m really happy for you and Brooks, Linds. That’s awesome,” I say when we are alone.
“I’m not sure it’s really something, but I’m having fun,” she answers, noncommittally. I don’t believe her for a second. “He is really nice and cute.”
My hair has held up so I decide against plugging in a flat iron in a bar bathroom. I don’t quite look like myself but it isn’t bad either. Max is certainly a miracle worker. I just hope it isn’t so over the top that Lucan thinks I am trying too hard. After all, most people don’t go home and change into sexy dresses and sultry makeup before an office happy hour.
I concentrate on being steady in my sky-high heels as we walk back to the table. I haven’t negotiated much terrain since I put them on. What if Lucan wants to walk?
“Don’t panic. He’s here.” Lindsey stops suddenly and I fall into her. My ankles wobble a bit in the Jimmy’s. What was I saying about negotiating the terrain? Lucan is talking to the hostess. She is leaning into him with a sultry smile. I am momentarily disappointed when he smiles back at her. I see her point in our direction and I relax. He’s just asking for directions. Lindsey gives my arm a tug and I start walking again.
I blindly follow Lindsey to our table because I cannot take my eyes off Lucan. He is absolutely astonishing, moving through the crowd with a grace I can only hope to possess. I know he sees me looking but I try to pretend I’m not. Lucan is at my side before I can sit down completely.
“Abri, you look astonishing,” he purrs. His hand grazes my elbow as I ease back onto my bar stool. I feel the heat rising in my face from the reverberating shock that accompanies his touch. Has it really been so long since I’ve felt a man’s touch? My entire body feels like I’ve licked an electric fence. Brooks, Max, and Lindsey look on with mouths agape, which prompts me to close my own.
“Are you ready?” he asks, carefully pulling his hand away from me.
I manage to stammer out an affirmation and to introduce my friends to Lucan before we bid them goodbye.
I expect him to hail a cab, or at the very most, show me to a hired town car waiting at the curb. Instead, parked in front of the bar is the most incredible sports car I have ever seen. Growing up in Iowa, the boys talked cars and heavy farm equipment non-stop so I knew a thing or two about both. I recognize the emblem on the hood. Lotus. Its blue paint sparkles under the streetlights. Again, I find my mouth hanging open.
“I hope it’s not too flashy for you. We could always just get a cab.” For the first time Lucan seems a bit unsure. It’s cute.
“What, and leave this baby out on the curb? No way. This is incredible,” I repeat aloud this time. “But what model is it? I haven’t seen anything like it.”
“It’s a Lotus.” He is obviously enjoying my interest.
“I know, but which one. It’s not an Elise or Exige.” I smile back and start to walk around the car to check out the back.
Lucan laughs. “You know foreign sports cars?”
“I grew up in Iowa. Boys there talk cars and heavy equipment and not much else.”
“It’s an Evora,” he admits.
“Those are not available in the United States, heck, anywhere, until next year!”
“True,” he says, obviously pleased I know that. “Do you want to drive it?”
Did I want to drive it? Hell yes I want to drive it. When was the last time I drove a car though?
“I might be a little rusty; I haven’t driven much since I moved here.” I think about my poor Hyundai covered in an old tarp, sitting untouched and unloved in my grandparent’s barn. Lucan tosses me the keys and opens the driver’s door. Jesus H. Christ, I am about to drive a car worth more than what I make in a year and a half with a man I barely know. Fuck it.
A sly smile creeps across my face as I round the car. I pause to work out how to get into the tiny car in my dress and heels. My ankles start to wobble so I place my hand on the door for balance. Lucan catches me under the arm, steadying me against his body. My breath hitches in my throat. I am just inches from his face, the most beautiful man I have ever seen. The electric fence feeling hits me again as he leans in for that I hope will be a kiss. This is fast but I don’t care.
My head is spinning and I am unable to tell if I am standing under my own power anymore. Our lips meet and another shock goes through me and shoots out of the top of my head and the tips of my toes all at once. My eyes fly open and I am gripping the car door for dear life.
“Oh Abri, I’m sorry,” Lucan half whispers putting his other arm out to steady me. His face hardens in concentration, as if making sure I remain upright is of national importance.
“Sorry?” I am hoarse for some reason and I cough. “What are you sorry about?” It’s not as if it is his fault my sex starved body is reacting to his touch as if he’s a human taser.
“I thought I could…if I just… Maybe I should drive after all.” He points to my white knuckles gripping the top of the car door.
“Probably so.” I hand him the keys and pry my other hand off the door. “Just this once.”
I turn to walk around the car. Lucan is already ahead of me opening the passenger side door. I try to wrap my head around it all but give up. It has been a long time since a man, let alone a man like Lucan O’Reilly, has paid attention to me and because of that fact I decide just to go along for the ride. If only for once in my life.
“Thank you, good sir.” I smile and I get into the car. Sitting down grounds me and I take a few deep breaths.
The inside of the car is even more luxurious than the outside. It has cream-colored leather seats and chrome trim. I run my hand over the leather-covered dashboard. The controls are backlit in red and it has what appears to be an actual computer screen in the dash. I would never look at my poor Hyundai the same again. Before I can put on my seat belt, Lucan is in the driver’s seat.
“So where are we going?” I ask out of curiosity more than concern. The engine roars to life and we take off. The computer screen announces that Radiohead’s I Might be Wrong is playing on the stereo. The lyrics seem particularly poignant at this juncture. I try not to think about how I’ve always wanted to have sex to this song. At nine o’ clock in Manhattan, the streets are usually pretty easy travel, but tonight they are virtually empty. I am so used to traveling by subway that I really can’t figure out where we are heading.
“I have something that I want to show you.” He is staring more at me than the road. “Are you nervous?” He says it in a way that conveys concern, not psychopathic killer.
If I really think about it, no, I’m not nervous. In fact, I want to tell him that any time he’s near it’s as if I’m incapable of being nervous. I want to tell him he has awakened something in me I had no idea existed. I want to tell him I was restless and empty until he entered my life. But I don’t. I don’t know him well enough to say any of that, least he deposit me and my
teetering heels on the nearest sidewalk. For now, I am just curious as to what this is and where it will take me.
“No, just curious.” I sound convincing and calm.
“What are you curious about?” His voice is melodic in my ear almost coaxing me to answer with the truth.
“Well, I’m curious about who you are, where we are going, why…” He is chuckling softly, his eyes sparkling. I’m thankful he cut me off before I can continue with ‘why I feel like I’m supposed to be here with you even though you are a stranger and I shouldn’t be riding around in your fancy car.’
“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I’m just shocked you’re not worried about being alone with me in my car. It’s not like we really know each other.” It’s as if he’s read my mind. “So to answer your questions, you already know my name, Lucan O’Reilly. I prefer Luke. I’m sure Max had me thoroughly investigated this afternoon, so no need to expound on my social or economic achievements—not that I enjoy talking about myself in that way, mind you. I don’t have a criminal record and I don’t do drugs. I wear a size 13 shoe and my favorite color is green. Oh, and I am not overly found of long walks on the beach or in the rain for that matter.”
I can’t help but smile. He clearly loves dragging this out.
“Where we are going is a slightly more in depth answer. But just in case you do get nervous, I promise you are safe with me.”
We turn onto what looks to be more an alley than a street in lower Manhattan. Lucan pulls up to a building with a red awning. There is no name on it, just the address: 726 Carlisle. The building has a heavy black door that looks to be made of iron and no windows. Maybe this is one of those new avant-garde restaurants where you dine in the dark laying on beds. Whatever it is, it appears to be the only thing open on the street, not exactly a trendy new party district.
42nd & Lex Page 4
