Crazy Stupid Love (Blame it on New York)

by Cassie Rocca

  “Apparently not. Did I drink that much yesterday evening?”

  “I guess about a bottle of wine during dinner, and then there were a few toasts after that.”

  “Jeez, I’m not used to drinking that much. I mean, I like a glass of nice wine every once in a while, but yesterday I must have drunk way too much. Do you understand the effect that family reunions have on me now?” sighed Zoe. “By the way, I guess I didn’t tell them that I was not going back to their place. That would be why my mom filled up my answering machine with worried messages. In the last one she finally said you told them where I ended up.”

  Eric was sitting stiffly on the sofa. “Yes, your mother called me early this morning. I should have called her last night… but I forgot.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do anything at all – I’m a grown up, I should solve the problems I create myself. I already forced you to take part in that farce to keep mad Maude quiet. I guess you were exhausted too last night.”

  “God, yes… I was so all in I was barely myself.”

  Great, good move. If the subject comes up you can use that excuse to justify the passionate kiss you gave her! he thought.

  But it seemed as though she didn’t remember it at all… or was she just play-acting?

  “I can never thank you enough for covering my back. I promise I’m not planning on accepting any invites for dinner from my relatives on your behalf! I am going to let a reasonable amount of time pass, then I’ll let them know we decided to go back to being friends like we used to be. In the meantime, I hope I’ll have solved the problem. I mean, ok, I might look like a zombie today but I’m not usually that hideous, am I? Sooner or later I’m going to find a man who actually wants to be with me.”

  If she had stabbed him in his chest it would have been less painful.

  Eric’s hand clenched tightly into a fist and he closed his eyes. “I am sure you will,” he forced himself to reply, even though he would have rather have smashed the phone against the wall and not spoken for a month.

  “By the way, I think I dreamt of you last night,” Zoe laughed. “And it was a pretty peculiar dream!”

  “Was it? What did you dream?” asked Eric, suddenly paying attention again.

  “I don’t really remember the context, I only remember we were kissing each other. I know, crazy, right? Wine and parties obviously have a weird effect on me.”

  Eric didn’t reply, and his silence made her curious.

  “It was a dream, wasn’t it? Don’t tell me that the alcohol made us do something stupid… right?”

  Her voice sounded almost frightened. Why? Was the thought of kissing him so horrifying for her?

  “God, Eric, say something! Your silence is scaring me. Did we really do it then?!”

  “We didn’t, don’t worry. I was just going through yesterday evening in my mind and I can’t remember doing anything like that,” Eric lied, despising himself for it. “I’d had a few drinks too, though less than you, and you know very well that two glasses of wine are enough for me to feel like I’m practically Superman. But I think that if you’d jumped me I’d remember it pretty clearly. I mean, I even remember the moment your uncle fell asleep and his face ended up in his plate…”

  “Hey, babe, it’s not me who jumps men – it’s usually the other way round…” snorted Zoe in an irritated voice. “So, yes, it must really have just been a dream, then,” she added, sounding relieved, and that made Eric suspicious.

  “A nightmare, you mean. It must have been horrible to dream that you were kissing an awkward geek like me,” he said, trying to muffle the bitterness in his voice.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong. It was an awesome kiss! Maybe I should actually give you a try! I’m missing a nerd in my collection of men.” Eric hesitated, wondering if, by any chance, she was in fact testing the water, but then Zoe laughed. “I’m joking, Eric! Hey, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable and that you’re not blushing right now! You can relax, I like our relationship the way it is and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  Inside him, he heard a noise that sounded like the shattering of his dreams.

  “Ok, I guess I’d better hit the shower and get back to being human,” continued Zoe, blissfully unaware of just having pierced his heart with her stilettos. “Do you want to come over here for dinner later?”

  She had just made a casual proposal, like so many times in the past, and only a few hours earlier Eric would have surely accepted it. Not that night though, he wasn’t really in the mood. He needed time to work through all that had happened and hide his silly ideas back inside the armour he had built up around himself over years of resignation.

  “I can’t, I’m going out with some friends tonight. I dumped them yesterday to come and help you, I can’t do the same today too.”

  “God, I’m such a selfish bitch. One day, you’ll get tired of me and tell me to go to hell,” sighed Zoe. “I promise I won’t behave like that any more.”

  “Great, that’s good to hear! Because I am not your freaking doormat, and I won’t always be there ready to jump every time you snap your fingers only to be thrown aside like an old shoe when you don’t need me. It’s about time you found yourself another servant!”

  At least, that was what he should have replied to vent all the anger and bitterness consuming him inside.

  What he actually replied, however, was, “Don’t worry, I’m happy to help. Anyway, that’s what friends are for isn’t it?”

  “The only thing I remember for sure about last night is saying to you that you’re my hero. And I can confirm it, Eric Morgan: you are amazing. And I am such a lucky person to know you.”

  Zoe blew him a kiss and hung up, leaving him staring at the phone with sad eyes.

  That was what he had wanted, wasn’t it? To not have to explain why he had kissed her so passionately, not ruining their relationship forever and beyond any hope of possible recovery, not feeling rejected. Zoe had given him the perfect alibi, since she thought she had just dreamt the whole thing.

  Problem solved, then. He could go back to pretending he was just a friend without either of them having to feel embarrassed. So why did he feel as if he’d been hit by a truck?

  A truck which had then reversed back over him?

  Chapter 3

  “I hate Valentine’s Day,” echoed Zoe’s voice around the shop, which was temporarily silent. Her colleagues all turned to look at her.

  Clover stopped decorating the window with cloth hearts to glance at her in amusement. “Yeah, right – you’re saying that only because you don’t have a boyfriend to celebrate it with.”

  “Hey, dating a super-cool actor doesn’t entitle you to make fun of your friends,” protested Zoe, pulling a threatening face.

  “It’s what you say every year, Zoe. And every year, I reply in exactly the same way,” smiled Clover. “Valentine’s Day is just an excuse for people to show their feelings.”

  “It’s stupid. People should show their feelings every day, not just once a year. Every Valentine’s Day, the average American man spends hundreds of dollars on dinners, boxes of chocolates, flowers and cards. Are you telling me that women wouldn’t appreciate that type of stuff in January or July too?” demanded Zoe, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head in disapproval. “Women should be courted every day, all the time. You shouldn’t just be romantic when circumstances force you to.”

  “Oh, I agree with all of that. All that I meant was that it’s nice to let yourself get carried away by the romantic atmosphere of Valentine’s Day. Same goes for Christmas: the right atmosphere can make all the difference.”

  “Yeah, well I hate Christmas too,” Zoe reminded her friend.

  Clover rolled her eyes and went back to decorating the shop window.

  Zoe leaned on the counter and gave a long sigh. “And anyway, not having a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day is really depressing.”

  “That’s your problem, Zoe: you don’t know what you w
ant,” burst out Eric, without lifting his eyes from the pack of pictures he was checking. Zoe spun round towards him, her grey eyes half closed.

  “So even our little nerd here has a theory, apparently.”

  “You’d have one too, if you just stopped moaning for five seconds.”

  Zoe frowned. “I’m not moaning, I’m just saying things the way they are.”

  “What is the problem, anyway?” asked Liberty, sorting the piles of photos in front of her into four separate groups. “You could have all the men you want, if you wanted them, and you don’t like Valentine’s Day anyway. So what the hell are you griping about?”

  “Because in two weeks everybody will be off having their little romantic dates and I’ll be all on my lonesome again!”

  “So you’re saying that I’m right,” said Clover. “Even though you think Valentine’s Day is a completely manufactured way to sell cards and teddy bears, you still think that it would be nice to celebrate it with a romantic dinner.”

  “You’re better off on your own than in bad company,” muttered Eric, glancing over at Zoe. “And given your terrible taste in men, I’m pretty sure that spending Valentine’s Day alone can only be a good thing for you.”

  “Oh don’t be so melodramatic. The men I date aren’t that bad.”

  “Let me just remind you of the last two: Jordan Edwards and Tommy Parks.”

  Clover pretended to throw up and even Liberty coughed lightly at the sound of those names. Zoe waved away their reactions with a hand, as though they were making a fuss about nothing.

  “Ok, Jordan might not have been exactly what you’d call classy and Tommy was maybe a little obsessed with my butt, but…”

  “Not exactly classy and only a little obsessed with your butt?” asked Eric with a smirk. “The first one was always burping in public.”

  “He couldn’t help it, it was an accident…”

  “And the second one kept his hand on your ass as though he thought he might fall over if he didn’t. As well as not being able to lift his eyes above the level of your cleavage. I bet he wouldn’t even have been able to tell you what color your eyes are!”

  “Come on, you’re talking about the two most extreme cases, they were certainly not the rule,” snorted Zoe.

  Eric raised his eyebrows over the tops of his spectacles. “Those were just the ones you went out with last month. I could go on for hours.”

  “Do you really remember all the men that I’ve dated?” she asked, looking perplexed.

  “Yes, because I like to train my mind, not my biceps,” mumbled Eric, turning his attention back to the photographs.

  “Of course, our pet scientist! But remember that girls like muscles, so maybe you should think about improving them too and not just your brain.”

  “I think that I can aim for something more in life than a girl who faints over a set of sculpted deltoids.”

  “Like who? What kind of girl would you like in your life?” asked Zoe. She smirked. “Let me guess: an intellectual like you is bound to be looking for another bookworm. She’ll have to have a Master’s degree, of course, and not be too bothered about her looks, and she must know absolutely nothing about makeup and clothes. And she’d better always be ready to launch into conversations about science, computers, philosophy and even politics! Just to sum it up: she must be deadly boring. You don’t want her to be a virgin too, do you?”

  “You know what, Zoe, you don’t have to be unattractive to be intelligent or to be able to talk about politics. Stop putting yourself down,” said Eric with fake kindness.

  “And stop putting us down too,” added Liberty. “Clover and I are pretty and we’re intelligent, and I guess I could even say the same about you.”

  “You guess?” asked Zoe pretending to be outraged. “You’re going to pay for this when you least expect it. Anyway, yeah, I feel intelligent enough, even if I don’t have a Master’s degree.”

  “In that case, the problem must lie elsewhere,” cut in Eric. “Maybe you think that a guy with underdeveloped muscles like me can’t attract intelligent girls who are pretty too, hmm?”

  Zoe turned to look at him in surprise. “I never said anything like that,” she said in shock. “And anyhow, you’re not that bad, dear Brainbox, even if your glasses do make you look like some stuffy high school teacher!” she added, giving him a wink.

  She wasn’t lying – Eric actually was really cute. He was tall and had a slim, athletic figure, brown curly hair and blue-green eyes. He had plenty of potential but just didn’t seem to be interested in showing it off. The glasses that made him look like a laboratory researcher were constantly perched on his straight nose while his body was always hidden under casual clothes. As a result, he looked like the stereotypical serious and intelligent good guy, and that made him appeal to many girls. Unfortunately, he was too shy to take advantage of the fact.

  While Eric was mumbling something incomprehensible in reply to Zoe’s comment, Clover finished off fixing up the shop window and looked at her sweetly. “Why don’t you prove your intelligence and stop dating men just because they happen to be good looking? If you aim a little bit higher, sooner or later you’ll be bound to find a man to spend Valentine’s Day with.”

  “Coming from the woman who’s currently dating one of the most lusted after men in the U.S., that advice rings a teensy bit hollow,” muttered Zoe.

  “There’s more to Cade than just being handsome.”

  “It’s pointless trying to convince her, Clo,” sighed Eric. “She has to go out with guys who pump themselves full of steroids and have absolutely nothing in their heads, otherwise she can’t control them.”

  “What do you mean?” hissed Zoe.

  “I mean that the self–confident mask you wear when you meet people hides a very insecure person who prefers dealing with vacuous guys so that she can feel better about herself. And since the only man you’ve ever actually fallen in love with wasn’t dressed like an asshole and didn’t have pumped-up muscles but a Master’s degree in Medicine, you decided that cavemen are more suitable for your needs because they don’t have enough brains to hurt you.” Eric looked her straight in the eyes with a serious expression on his face.

  “If it’s a man’s intelligence that scares you then you should know that Harris had a lot less of it than you credit him with – otherwise he wouldn’t have done what he did to you. Maybe it’s time you let go of your past and started looking to the future.”

  Touched by those words, Zoe didn’t reply.

  Eric was right. Who knew her better than him, anyway? He had been listening to all her complaints and putting up with her outbursts since university. Lately, though, he’d been a lot less patient with her and they seemed to be arguing for no reason at all.

  Sometimes she thought it was strange that their relationship had lasted so long. They couldn’t have been more different from one another! But they had bonded immediately, no matter how strange it seemed: she was a pretty waitress, always surrounded by suitors, while he was a lonesome physics and informatics student, taciturn and shy. He had quickly become her best friend and the only one who had supported her on every occasion. He had consoled her when Stuart Harris, the only guy she had ever fallen in love with in her whole life, had broken her heart by cheating on her repeatedly with her best friend and since then had been putting up with her, and especially with her hysterical hunt for a man – an obsession that had led her into ruinous relationships with the wrong men.

  Maybe he had finally had enough and didn’t want to babysit her any more. Was that the reason why he had been so touchy lately?

  The idea was terrifying to her: Eric was the only person she trusted unconditionally. She didn’t get on particularly well with other women and apart from Clover and Liberty she didn’t have many friends, so losing Eric’s affection and support would have left her feeling desperately alone.

  His unusual coldness and distance were hurting her. It wasn’t normal for him to be like that, and h
e would never usually have spoken about such delicate matters in public.

  He seemed to have read her mind and gave her a rather contrite look. “Hey, sorry – I went too far.”

  That made Zoe feel a lot better – how could she feel hurt by someone who would apologize for just telling the truth? Her good mood restored, she smiled at him brightly the way she always did – and the way that allowed her to conquer the heart of any man of any age. “I’ll accept your apologies when you do something for me,” she joked.

  Eric suddenly raised his brown eyebrows. “Something like what?”

  “Well, if I can’t find anyone to go out with in the next few days, you could take me to dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

  Eric looked up to the sky. “Right, like I’ve never done that before.”

  “Hey, don’t act so smart, it would be a mutual favor. It’d be a fun evening between friends and people would think that we were a couple, and that way we’d both save face.”

  It was almost a tradition: when both of them found themselves single, they spent their time together. Zoe couldn’t remember how many times Eric had stepped in to stop her getting drunk alone. He had put up with accompanying her to family celebrations, stepping in for dates to take over from some partner who had stood her up at the last minute, to Valentine’s dinners all those years when they were both single, and they had even gone on holiday together! In other words, Eric Morgan was the man she had spent the most time with – he was her longest lasting relationship… and they hadn’t even slept together!

  She felt the need to demonstrate her affection to him, so leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Eric pushed his glasses up his nose the way he always did when he was embarrassed.

  “You don’t need to sweet-talk me – I’ll take you to dinner.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bell indicating that someone had come into the shop.

  Zoe raised her eyes and smiled at the new client, and when she saw that it was a handsome blond guy of about six feet tall, she immediately smoothed out her wool skirt and primped her dark bob haircut.