Angelo stuffs some money into the waiter’s jacket pocket. “Listen, my man, I want a Jack and Coke, and another martini for my pretty lady here.” He nods toward me with a wink, as I focus on trying to disappear. “Also, I’m ready to order.” Without asking my opinion, he orders a bunch of food for us to share. Carmine’s is a family-style restaurant where the large portions are meant for sharing.
After the waiter leaves, Angelo turns to me and flashes a goofy smile that just makes me want to smack him. His attempts at being flirty only make me like him less.
“Lucia,” he begins, “you don’t know how long I have begged Gabby and Tony for a date with you. I’m glad you finally agreed to go out with me.”
I mumble, “My arm was twisted.”
He leans forward on the table, trying to get closer to me. His tanned skin is even more orange up close. “What are you doing next week?”
I lean back, trying to distance myself from the talking Italian pumpkin. “What’s next week?”
Angelo’s smile widens and he shakes his head playfully. “Lucia, you are so adorable, pretending like you don’t know that next week is Valentine’s Day. It’s the day that every woman looks forward to, especially if they’re lucky enough to get to spend it with Angelo, the love machine!” At this, he flexes his arm muscles, attempting to show off, but only causing me to roll my eyes.
I snort, “No it’s not.” I run my fingers through my hair, trying not to reveal that I had actually forgotten that Valentine’s Day was next week. I should remember, because we’ve only been planning a Valentine’s Day week for the show since of January. I guess I’ve just been distracted lately.
“Well maybe, if you are a good girl, I’ll take you out.” Angelo winks; I wince. “But then again, I tend to prefer bad girls.”
Oh, God. I think as I take another extra-large sip from my martini. Please, just kill me now. “I’d rather die,” I answer bluntly, at this point no longer worried about offending.
Angelo laughs obnoxiously and hits the table hard with his hand. “That’s why I like you, Lucia—you’ve got a sense of humor!” If only he knew I hadn’t been kidding.
Luckily, our waiter interrupts the conversation by delivering our drinks, and I quickly down what’s left of my first martini, knowing that I’m going to need all the alcohol I can get my hands on so I don’t snap, reach over the table, and try to stab him with my knife.
Never one to be tactful, Angelo leans across the table and says, “I bet you are sensational in bed.” He winks at me. “I can’t wait to find out.”
I grab my napkin and squeeze it till my hands turn white. A part of me just wants to hit him hard and leave, making a big scene and storming out in a fit of rage. But unfortunately I know that if I were to do anything of the sort, I’d never hear the end of it from my sister or parents, who would both complain endlessly about how I never try hard enough to find a good guy. Never mind the fact that Angelo is a greasy moron with only one thing on his mind; to my parents, he’s a quality, Italian man.
Instead of hitting him, I just reply curtly, “Angelo, I wouldn’t hold your breath while waiting for me to sleep with you.”
Our food finally arrives and, while eating, Angelo prattles on about himself, making sure to note how great of a guy he is, how great of a boyfriend he is, how great he is at sex, and how he can make a woman orgasm over and over. For all of his talents, he apparently isn’t good at generating pleasant dinner conversation. Rather than arguing with his arrogant statements, I choose to politely listen and nod, taking solace in the fact that I’m at least getting a free meal and making a point to order as many drinks as I can.
Finally, the date is almost over. I’ve had my fair share of alcohol, and as I wobble to my feet, I cast apologetic looks at the poor people seated around us. Angelo’s obnoxious bragging was loud enough to drown out most of the other conversation in the room, and I know that people are glad that we’re finally leaving. While Angelo pays the check, I glance down at my phone, trying to find out where my friends are meeting later.
While checking my messages I hear a familiar sexy voice ask, “Lucia?”
I look up and see Jackson standing there looking surprised, with a beautiful Asian woman draped over his arm. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out because I’m so distracted by Jackson’s appearance; just when I thought he couldn’t look any sexier, he somehow manages to outdo himself. He’s wearing black trouser pants with a partially unbuttoned collared shirt. His hair is messier than usual, as though someone had just been running their fingers through it, and his neck is covered with marks that I assume are hickeys. If I had to guess, I’d say that his pretty friend was to blame.
I suddenly snap out of my daze when I hear Angelo say, “Yo, I’m Angelo, Lucia’s boyfriend. Who are you, man?”
I turn to look at Angelo, ready to remind him that I am as far from being his girlfriend as anyone could possibly be, when I hear Jackson answer.
“I’m Jackson, I work with Lucia.” I whip around to look at Jackson and I see that he has a smirk on his face. “Lucia, I didn’t know you have a boyfriend?” he asks, already aware of the truth. I open my mouth to correct him when he cuts me off, “Well, it was nice to see you, Lucia, and your boyfriend, too.” He lifts his arms above his head, stretching and showing off his exquisite body. “We’re going to head home now; we’ve been inside all day and I always forget how crowded this place gets.” He puts his arm around the woman and says to me with a smirk, “See you Monday.” The pair struts away, Jackson clutching the woman to his side as she nibbles on his ear.
What an asshole, I think to myself, surprised at how irritated I am.
I hear the table move and see Angelo staring down at me. “We should probably get out of here, too. I agree with that guy, it’s a bit too crowded in here.” He flashes a sly grin that makes me cringe because I know exactly what he’s implying.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to calm myself down. I decide to play stupid. “What are you talking about, Angelo?” I quickly walk towards the exit, hoping he won’t follow me, but knowing he will.
“The night is still young! Come on, babe,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “What do you want to do?”
I walk outside into the cold, wrapping my jacket tightly around my body. As nicely as I can, I say, “Thank you for dinner, but I’m tired and I think I’m just going to head home.”
“Sounds good, I can come with you,” Angelo says, apparently incapable of taking a hint. “I’m pretty tired too, and we can just hang out at your place and relax.” Somehow he makes the most mundane words sound as though they were plucked directly from an adult film; just another of his many talents.
Fed up with trying to be polite, I finally decide to try brutal honesty. “Angelo, I’m going to be honest with you,” I begin, “I didn’t feel a connection at all tonight. I’m sorry. Thanks again for dinner, and have a good evening.” With that, I walk to the curb, already searching for a cab I can flag down. Suddenly, I feel someone pull on my arm, and I turn around to see Angelo glaring at me.
His face is tense with anger, and I can see veins bulging in his neck. “Look, bitch, I like you, so let’s make this work.”
I pull my arm from his grasp, shocked by his attitude, and hiss at him, “Angelo, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Capisce?”
Angelo closes his eyes and moves his neck back and forth to crack it. He resembles a boxer gearing up for a fight, and for a brief moment I’m afraid that he might turn violent. When he opens his eyes, they are black with anger.
“You’re a real bitch, you know that? You’re going to be alone forever, meretrice.” He storms away, which is perfectly fine with me. After being called a “whore” in Italian, I can’t wait to call my sister and start yelling at her for having forced me to go on this stupid date.
Later that night, I walk into the Fat Black Pussycat—a local bar—and see Ian and Corey sitting at a table, beers already in their hands. I push throu
gh the crowd and slowly make my way to their table.
“Hey.” I give a small wave and look around. “Where is everybody else?”
Ian replies, “Everyone backed out.”
“What happened?” I ask, surprised that even Danni missed an opportunity to come out.
After carefully checking out a woman’s ass, Corey turns to me and answers, “Autumn is going out with that guy from that site again, and Danni says she’s busy.”
Ian adds, “Which means that she’s having sex with someone.”
Corey nods in agreement. “Anyway, Wayne is being a pussy, saying he’s tired and has work he needs to do. So that leaves us.”
Ian shakes his head, “I’m telling you, man, he’s been different since he and Laurie broke up. It’s like she took his balls with her.”
Corey raises his beer bottle and declares, “Whatever, he’s not going to ruin my night. There are a lot of women here that I need to get to know better, if you know what I mean.” He raises an eyebrow at Ian, who smirks at the innuendo.
The two clink their beer bottles together in celebration, then both chug the remainder of their drinks and follow me to the bar to order another round.
While waiting to be served at the bar, Ian and Corey are busy looking around and deciding which women should be granted the honor of getting to meet them tonight. Corey nods his head to the right, in the direction of a scantily clad coed.
“See the girl with the pink top?” he asks. “She’s pretty sexy.”
Ian shakes his head. “I tried talking to her already; she wouldn’t shut up about how she wants a relationship.”
“Damn, it’s been like that all night. Why is every girl either looking for a relationship or already in one?” Corey whines.
I cut in, “Guys, we are going to be twenty-eight this year. Don’t you think it’s time we all start thinking about being in a serious relationship?”
Ian ignores me and replies to Corey instead. “It’s this bar, man. This place has gone downhill since it first opened.”
I roll my eyes at their immaturity and finally get the attention of a female bartender. As she approaches, Ian and Corey notice her and immediately straighten their posture. I turn and see that they’ve both put their “game face” on, trying their hardest to appear confident and suave.
“You guys want another round?” the bartender asks.
Corey answers her, flashing a cocky grin. “Yeah, we do, and get my friend one too. And baby, why don’t you help yourself to one—my treat.” He gives a quick wink and then leans back smugly.
The bartender rolls her eyes and politely answers, “No, thanks. I can drink for free.” She hands us our beers and then walks away, probably tired of being hit on by every guy she serves.
“Bitch,” I hear Corey mumble into his beer. His shoulders are tense and his face bears the flush of embarrassment; he isn’t used to rejection.
Corey turns to Ian, seeking support, but Ian isn’t paying attention. Instead, he’s staring in the direction of a gorgeous blonde woman sharing the bar with an unattractive, overweight man. Corey’s face lightens as he forgets all about his mishap with the bartender, obviously focused on the new, beautiful prospect in front of him.
Ian leans over to Corey and quietly says, “She’s hot.” Ian has a point: the woman is tall and thin and could easily be a model. There’s no doubt that she’s gorgeous, and I can’t help but wonder why she’s out with such a homely date.
The three of us lean closer to the couple, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. Over the din of the bar, I can barely make out what the woman is saying as she rubs the man’s arm affectionately.
“Baby, I’m so happy that I joined Chat Love and met you. You’re the best.” She gives a little squeal on the last comment and then rises to kiss him on the lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom.”
She casually walks away, swaying her hips and attracting the attention of every man in the room. Her date notices our spying and grins, leaning over to comment.
“I get more ass from that site than I’ve gotten in my entire life.” He gives a wink and raises his beer in the direction of the boys.
Unsure of what to say, the three of us turn away, drinks in hand, and quickly head back to our table. As we sit, sipping our beers and thinking, Ian suddenly points his finger at me.
“Lu, you’ve been on Chat Love, right? Is it really that easy to get hot women like that?” He nods in the direction of the tall blonde at the bar, who is now playfully nibbling on her date’s ear.
Surprised by Ian’s question, I almost spill my beer. I try to choose an answer that won’t make me sound completely pathetic.
“Well, I’m not really on Chat Love, at least not officially. I have a profile and a picture up, but I haven’t been active or anything. I was actually planning on logging on for the first time later tonight, but I don’t really know about the women on the site, since I look for men.”
Corey cuts me off, “So are you saying it’s another place to find hook-ups? It sounds a lot cheaper than going out to bars and shit.”
I shake my head, “No, I didn’t say that, exactly.”
Ignoring me, Ian nods his head, speaking only to Corey. “Dude, all we’d have to do is make up some bullshit for our profile and just wait for the women to line up. I mean, we’re good-looking guys, and if that troll over there can get a woman like her, imagine the kind of tail we could get. It’s a one-way ticket to sex.”
Corey says excitedly, “Shit, why weren’t we doing this before? It’s no wonder everybody is so into this online dating stuff. All you have to do is log on, choose a chick, and boom, I’m in it—balls deep.”
Annoyed, I quickly finish my beer and grab my coat. Ian notices me getting ready to leave and asks, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going home,” I sigh, “I can’t hear any more of this. You’re talking about taking a site meant for people wanting commitment and using it for your own selfishness, just so you can have more sex. Men like you have already ruined the dating experience, and now you’re going to find a way to ruin the online dating experience, too? Unbelievable.” I shake my head, disappointed by both of my friends.
Corey rubs his shaved head, “Yeah, but maybe there are women on the site who want just sex, too.”
I button my coat. “Well, you should put that in your profile so you don’t deceive any women by pretending you’re looking for more when all you really want is another lay. That’s not fair.” With that, I walk out of the bar and into the chilly night air.
When I get home, I walk into my apartment and head straight for my room. Without bothering to take off my coat or shoes, I grab my laptop and sit on the edge of my bed. I go to the Chat Love homepage and as soon as I log in, I see that I’ve received several messages from interested men. I take a deep breath and click on the first one; it’s time to give this site a chance. After all, what do I have to lose, besides the lonely feeling I get when I see couples walking hand in hand on the street or looking at each other lovingly while having dinner? I’m sick of sitting on the sidelines, watching everybody else’s happiness. I want to experience that for myself, and from now on, I’m counting on Chat Love to help me get there.
Chapter 8
It’s Friday, the day before Valentine’s Day, and I’m ready for the holiday to be over. For the past week, the set at work has looked like it was vomited on by a Hallmark card. Patrick has been wearing these tacky heart-patterned ties in shades of pink and red and asking every guest about love. Despite the fact that most of his whorish, pop star guests aren’t exactly the type to be committed to anything besides their drug of choice, I still can’t help feeling a bit depressed. Being one of the only people in the office not receiving deliveries of flowers, chocolates, or stuffed animals is, frankly, a pain in the ass.
I have been visiting Chat Love daily and chatting with a few people here and there, but so far I haven’t come across anything serious. Then again, I haven
’t really been able to dedicate much time to trying out the site, because things have been so busy at work. However, I’ve already made plans for Valentine’s Day: I’m going to order Mexican food, put on my sweat pants, and spend the day browsing the site with a bottle of wine at my side.
I’m currently sitting at my desk, writing an e-mail to Danni in order to thank her for helping me book today’s guests on the show. Meghan Moore and Steven Black are the most desired celebrity couple at the moment. They’re both very attractive, wealthy, and, for once, talented. Today represents the first time we’ve actually featured respectable guests on the show, and the fact that the couple is madly in love will only help to boost our ratings. From what I’ve gathered, they’re planning to talk to Patrick about their relationship and how they make it work, which is a first—the two have never discussed their relationship on television. Although my spirits are low because of Valentine’s Day, I can’t help but feel some excitement at the prospect of the show really taking off.
As I’m typing, I suddenly feel tingles run through my body, a sign that Jackson is nearby. He has the kind of presence that you notice without ever having to see him. I look up and see him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching me work. He’s wearing a red sweater—no doubt in honor of the holiday—and his hair is perfectly messy, as usual. He nods toward the chocolates sitting on my desk.
“From your boyfriend?” he asks, smirking.
Confused, I just give him a look, indicating that I have no idea what he’s talking about.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Angelo, right? The guy I met at the restaurant the other night?”
I groan and shake my head. “He is not my boyfriend. He never was, and he never will be. It was just a stupid date that my sister forced me to go on and—”
Jackson grins and throws his hands up in mock protest.” All right, sorry for asking.” He looks around, surveying the other desks, covered in holiday-themed goodies, which surround mine. “Now it makes sense why I haven’t seen anything delivered to your desk.”
Chat Love Page 7