Madeleine flings the door open and leans provocatively against the doorframe. “Hello, Devon,” she purrs.
“Hey, Maddie,” Devon responds casually. He leans forward and kisses her cheek. “Ready to go, ladies? We have a celebration to commence.”
“We’re ready,” I say.
“You both look lovely tonight,” Devon states. “I secured a spot at Strega for us. I know it’s your favorite place, Londy.”
“Yeah, it is. Thank you.”
We walk out to Devon’s waiting car. I don’t know what his salary at the university is, but it must be substantial. Devon lives in Boston’s Back Bay and owns two luxury vehicles. Tonight, he’s driving the Range Rover. Devon opens the passenger door and I defer to Madeleine, letting her have the front seat. I’m more than happy to sit in the back and let her bask in my brother’s light.
“So,” Devon begins. “Working for Professor Hot Head, huh?”
Laughing, I reply, “I see I’m not the only one who creates nicknames for him.”
“Not at all. There are many around campus. Most are unflattering and related to his temperament.” Devon puts the vehicle into drive and pulls into traffic. “Let’s see. I’ve personally heard Professor Ego, Professor Unreasonable, and Professor Demanding. He has his fans, though. A few of the ladies call him Professor Sexy Pants.”
I burst out laughing. “Professor Sexy Pants? That is not a nickname I would call him. Sexy is the last thing I thought of when I met him this morning. I call him Professor Overbearing.”
“You’ll tame him right up, Londy. I have no doubt.”
“Thanks, Dev.”
Madeleine seems to be completely ignoring our conversation. I can tell from her expression she is mesmerized by my brother and doing her best not to stare like a stalker at him. I do hope someday the girl gets what she wants. She’s already like a sister to me. Why not make it official?
We pull up to the restaurant so Devon can drop us off whilst he looks for a parking space. When he returns, Devon positions himself between us like a gentleman and guides us inside. We are led to our seats and sit down to study the menu, even though I already know what I’m getting.
After the waiter takes our orders, Devon orders a bottle of Dom Perignon for us. Pouring us each a glass, he lifts his for a toast.
“To new adventures,” he says.
“Yes, new adventures,” I say.
“I love adventures,” Madeleine replies.
“So do I,” Devon adds, laughing.
“So, tell us what is new with you, Devon,” Madeleine says.
“Hmm,” he says, tapping his chin with his finger. “Work is going well. Our grant was just extended another eighteen months. I had a presentation to the board of directors that funds our current project and impressed them with what my team has accomplished.”
“Do you have any down time at all?” I ask.
“Some. I have to use it wisely. Like taking my two favorite young ladies to supper.”
“We appreciate it,” I say.
“Did you phone Mum and Dad with the news?” he asks.
“No. I will a bit later.”
“What else do you do in your spare time?” Madeleine interjects.
Devon smiles sweetly at her. “Read. Watch a bit of telly. Occasionally, I take a girl out.”
“When do you have time to meet women?” I ask.
“Not often, admittedly. This latest one was visiting Boston for a conference. She comes here quarterly so I’ll see her again.”
Madeleine’s smile fades quickly. “You like her?”
“I like her enough.”
“Oh.”
Devon leans over and kisses Madeleine’s cheek. “Not nearly as much as I like you, though.”
“You’re just saying that,” she says, but I can tell she is holding back a smile.
“It’s true. I have far more fun with the two of you than with most women I date. My two baby sisters.” Devon grins whilst Madeleine frowns again. I’m positive she doesn’t enjoy being viewed as his baby sister.
“I’m not a baby. I’m quite grown up, if you haven’t noticed,” Madeleine says with a pout.
“I have noticed,” Devon says, and lifts her hand to kiss it. He drinks his champagne and pours us all a fresh glass, whilst Madeleine sits stunned by his comment. The entire scene is quite amusing to me.
Our food comes and we chat, Madeleine hanging on Devon’s every word. I wonder if my brother has any feelings towards her at all, but it’s really not my place to ask. Devon’s personal life is as much a mystery to me as mine is to him.
After our meal, we take a quick walk around the neighborhood, my head slightly tipsy from the constant flow of champagne.
“It was a wonderful dinner, Dev. Thank you,” I say as we walk.
“My pleasure. It’s not every day something this wonderful happens.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to no one but yourself. You’ve worked hard to get here and you impressed him. Not me.”
I look back to see Madeleine staring into a shop window at a leather handbag studded with rhinestones. Lucky for me it’s closed or I’d have to go shopping again.
“Come on, Maddie. Time to go,” I call out.
She looks up and reluctantly walks towards us, dragging her hand across the shop window. “Did you see it? It was gorge,” she says with a sigh.
“Yes, I saw it. We’ll come back for it.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” I didn’t say when. Hopefully, she’ll forget about it.
Devon leads us back to the car and drives us home. When we arrive, he steps out of the car and opens each door for us. He hugs and kisses my cheek, and then does the same to Madeleine. If I’m not imagining it, I swear he lingered a bit with his arms around her. Hmm.
We say goodnight and head up to our flat. Madeleine practically floats up the stairs.
“Ooh, your brother is so divine.”
“He’s quite a chap, yes.”
“He’s more than that. He’s incredible.”
I laugh. “I know.”
“He kissed me.”
“He always kisses you.”
“I know. It never gets old. I wonder what his lips would feel like on mine.”
“Eww! He is my brother, you know.”
“Sorry,” she replies, laughing as she kicks off her heels. “I do wonder, though.”
“Maybe you’ll find out someday. Spare me the details, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”
“Yep. Sweet dreams.”
“Same to you.”
After washing my face and putting on my nightgown, I climb into bed. I’m nervous, but also excited about my new job. I just hope I’m the girl the professor needs.
I DON’T KNOW IF I hoped Priscilla would forget or if I just thought I had more time. I didn’t realize she would call her friend the minute she left my house to set up this date. Now, I’m preparing myself for a date I’m not exactly excited about.
Dragging the razor down my cheek, I try to convince myself this is what I should be doing. I should move on. I should try. It’s been nearly ten years and no matter how hard I wish for it, she won’t come back. She can’t.
I select a pair of slacks from my closet and a white shirt. Priscilla and Jake chose the location, an Italian restaurant in the North End. I decided to drive on my own in case I want to get away. This girl might be pretty, but that doesn’t mean I will like her.
After I dress, I take a deep breath and take my keys off the small table in the foyer. Who knows, maybe Jordan is just the person to fill the emptiness in my soul.
I make my way from Cambridge to Boston’s North End. Hanover Street is lined with shops and some of the city’s finest Italian restaurants. I look for the destination, Strega Ristorante, and upon seeing it, drive around for a parking space. I find one a block away and after parking, begin my walk to the restaurant. I s
ee Jake and Priscilla, then the pretty blonde I assume to be Jordan, standing in front of the restaurant.
As I approach, Priscilla smiles and nudges her friend, who looks up. She is even prettier in real life. Her black dress hugs her body and has a very low cut neckline, revealing her enticing cleavage. My eyes involuntarily run the length of her body, noticing her toned legs and the way her calves flex in response to the sexy high heels she wears. Her blond hair tumbles down her back and her face is covered in heavy makeup- a turn off for me. I always worry about what a woman is hiding under all that. I like a natural face with minimal makeup, if any. That’s what I loved about…I can’t bring myself to even think her name. I attempt to shake the thought from my head and keep the open mind I told Jake I would bring with me.
Priscilla introduces me to her friend and I extend my hand to shake hers. She responds with a limp wrist. What surprises me the most is when she opens her mouth.
“Pleased to meet you,” she says with possibly the strongest New Jersey accent I’ve ever heard.
“Likewise,” I reply.
We go inside and are seated near the window. I don’t know if it’s just me, but already the situation feels awkward. I pray that Jake or Priscilla will break the silence.
“How about a bottle?” Jakes asks.
“That sounds like a good idea,” I say.
“A bottle of what?” Jordan asks.
Priscilla smiles. “Wine. Do you prefer red or white?”
“I don’t drink wine,” Jordan replies.
“What do you drink?” I ask.
“Sex on the Beach. Ya think they have those here?”
“What is that?” I ask.
“It’s a cocktail.”
“Okay, we can ask,” I say. “For the rest of us? Red?”
“Yeah, red works,” Jake replies.
The server arrives and we order the bottle while Jordan explains what’s in this drink she wants. The server states she’ll ask the bartender. Jordan turns back to me and flashes her very white, very straight smile. Barbie doll is the thought that enters my mind.
“So, Jordan,” I begin. “You work at the hospital with Priscilla, right?”
“Yeah.” She says nothing else.
“How do you like it?” I try.
“Um, it’s okay. I used to want to be a head nurse, but now I don’t know. I’m kinda burnt out already, ya know?”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“A year. I don’t think it was the right career choice for me.”
“I didn’t know that,” Priscilla says. “What else are you thinking about?”
“I think I should be a trophy wife,” Jordan says, then laughs so loud it attracts attention from neighboring tables.
Priscilla frowns as she looks at me. She knows I don’t find this amusing at all.
“Well,” I start, “You probably shouldn’t date professors if that’s your goal.”
“You aren’t just a professor. You’re a Harvard professor. That’s prestigious.”
“I suppose.”
“Luca is highly respected in his field,” Jake chimes in. “He’s wicked smart.”
“That’s awesome,” Jordan says. “I guess ya can’t be a dumb ass working at Harvard.”
I can already tell I don’t like this crass girl sitting across from me. The server returns with our drinks and I watch in horror and awe as Jordan drinks hers down rather quickly. Priscilla grabs her arm.
“Let’s go freshen up before dinner, Jordan,” she suggests.
“But I don’t need to go,” Jordan replies.
“Yes, you do,” Priscilla insists. Jordan gets it and the women excuse themselves from the table.
“She’s an idiot,” I announce as soon as they are out of earshot.
“I wish I could argue with you. I haven’t been impressed since we picked her up. I wonder if she’s just nervous. Priscilla is usually a good judge of character.”
“I don’t blame your wife. People can be quite different outside of work. I am proof of that.”
“Very true, buddy. Let’s just see if we can get through dinner. Maybe she’ll drink enough and you can at least get laid.”
I laugh. “I think I’m the one who would have to get drunk to take her home with me.”
“Yeah, she seems like more trouble than she’s worth.”
“Definitely.”
The women return several minutes later and we order our meals. Jordan orders another cocktail and we all try our best to make conversation.
“So, Luca,” Priscilla starts. “How was your trip to Italy this summer?”
“It was good. I spent most of my time in Florence learning more about Brunelleschi. Then I spent a week at the Università di Bologna researching my next book. It was a rewarding trip. Do you know much about Renaissance Italy, Jordan?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, her Jersey accent grating on my nerves. “The only thing Italian I know is the food. Oh, and shoes.”
I try again. “Well, what do you like to do for fun?”
“I like to go clubbing. Dancing is fun. I like shopping and I practically collect handbags. I have so many I lost count.”
I look at Priscilla. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Thankfully at that moment, our food arrives which should provide a few moments of distraction. I immerse myself in my linguine while Priscilla and Jake attempt to salvage the conversation.
“When did you move to Boston?” Jake asks her.
“I didn’t. I commute. During the week, I stay with my brother and sister-in-law then I go back to Jersey for the weekend. Boston is too boring for me.”
“What about New York? You ever go to the city?” Priscilla asks.
“Yeah, sure. If I can find a hot guy to buy me drinks all night. It’s too expensive there.”
Rolling my eyes, I stay silent and keep eating. I have positively nothing in common with this girl. Nothing.
“Weren’t you in the top of your class at nursing school?” Priscilla asks.
“Yeah. It wasn’t that hard. Just a few extra credit assignments, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows and pushes her tongue inside her cheek, simulating a blow job. Really?
Priscilla smacks her arm and she laughs. “Kidding! I’m totally kidding. I just studied.”
I continue eating my meal in silence. I have nothing else to say to this offensive, gold digging Barbie doll.
“Aw, did I offend you, Luca?” Jordan says, reaching across the table and rubbing my hand. “I’m just having a little fun. Who doesn’t like a good blow job?” She laughs again, then adds, “Joke. A good blow job joke.”
“Let me know when you hear one,” I say, making my distaste for her clear.
Jordan flips her hair off her shoulder. “I think I need another drink.”
Priscilla looks miserable while Jake can barely contain his laughter. I know he wasn’t in complete agreement with his wife on setting up this date. Now that it has disintegrated into this, I’m sure he is secretly pleased.
“Why don’t we finish dinner then you can get back to Jersey and I can get back to what I normally do,” I suggest.
“Which is what?” Jordan challenges. “Cuz you seem boring.”
“Boring?” I repeat. “At least I don’t degrade myself by drinking too much and looking for people to fund my evenings out.”
“Degrade myself?” she says, her voice reaching an annoyingly high pitch. “I don’t appreciate you judging me. You don’t know me.”
“You judged first.”
“That’s because you’re a bore.”
“And you are a whore.”
Jordan’s mouth opens wide as Jake and Priscilla sit in shock. The server approaches with another cocktail. Jordan picks it up from the tray and promptly tosses it in my face, covering me with pink, sticky liquor.
The server’s mouth drops as I stand, completely pissed off. I feel my anger rising to the surface, but refuse to
make a scene. Well, more of one.
After wiping my face with a napkin, I dig in my back pocket, and pulling out my wallet, throw a few hundred dollar bills on the table. Turning to a stunned Priscilla and Jake, I tell them through gritted teeth, “Thank you for the invite tonight. It’s clear this evening has gone to hell and I won’t sit here another minute with this poorly mannered troll.”
“You’re a dick, ya know that?” Jordan says to me, her eyes blazing.
“Yes, I do. I’ll refrain from telling you what you are. Good evening.”
I walk out and stop once I’m outside the doors. This is exactly why I never bother. I would much rather have spent another Saturday night alone with my thoughts and my work than eat dinner with someone like that.
It will be a long time before I do it again.
“YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT TODAY, Londyn. You’re going to impress him,” Madeline says to me as I brush out my dark brown hair once more. She sits on the edge of my four-poster bed, dangling her legs over the side. I look down at the baby blue sheath dress I chose. I paired it with a tan belt and nude colored heels- part of my new purchases.
“You don’t think I’m too pale to pull it off?” I ask, hesitant in my choice.
Madeline shakes her head. “Not at all. You could use a bit of sun, but you have such pretty skin you look great in everything. You should put some lip gloss on. Make your lips pop.”
“I don’t need my lips to pop,” I say as I clasp a silver necklace around my neck. Madeline spends entirely too much time trying to dress me up. I’m simply not interested in all that girly business. I want to be noticed for my mind, nothing else. “It’s enough I’m wearing heels and jewelry, don’t you think?”
“Alright then. You still look great,” she says. “Can I go with you?”
I look up at her smiling face and can’t help but smile back. “Why would you want to come to Harvard with me? I can’t entertain you. I’m working.”
“You don’t have to. There’s bound to be a good looking chap or two roaming round there. Then maybe we can grab lunch with Devon.”
I narrow my eyes at her. I know she is serious based on the fact that she is awake so early. “I can’t promise Devon will be available, but you’re certainly welcome to tag along. Just stay out of trouble, alright?”
Londyn Falls Page 4
