Chapter 9
I am sitting on my couch, dressed in my baggiest sweats, with my hair pulled up into a messy bun. On the table in front of me sit my computer, a half-eaten box of Mexican takeout, and a near-empty bottle of chardonnay. The couch has comfortably molded itself around my rear, as I’ve spent the entire day sitting here adjusting my profile, searching for potential dates, and answering e-mails on Chat Love.
I have been talking to several men, getting to know them and setting up dates. It feels good to know that I’m not the only lonely person spending their Valentine’s Day on a dating website.
While I was busy stuffing my face and lounging, Autumn had been busy getting her nails and hair done while shopping for the perfect outfit to wear on her date tonight with John—a short, strapless, red sequin cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline. After seeking my assistance in getting ready for her date, she’d finally left the apartment in a flurry of excitement, promising to deliver details tomorrow. Now I’m completely alone again. Hooray.
Bothered by the fact that I’ve literally spent eight hours in the same position, I decide to sign off for the evening. My eyes hurt and my fingers ache from all the typing, so a break is probably in my best interest. Plus, I’ve learned more about how to navigate the site, and even scheduled a few dates, so I’m starting to feel positive about the whole online dating experience.
Thinking about dating at all only serves to remind me that I haven’t had a Valentine’s date in years. I’ve had a few offers here and there, but I usually refuse to go on a date for the mere sake of having a date on Valentine’s Day. After all, isn’t it a holiday designed for people to share their love for one another? Why would I want to spend the holiday on a date with someone I wasn’t in love with? Plus, the day is designed to put more pressure on dating, and the last thing I need is any more pressure when it comes to romance.
I walk into the kitchen, opening the drawer where we keep the takeout menus, ready to order dinner, watch a sappy romance movie, and cry. As I’m shuffling through the menus my phone rings, showing Danni’s name on the display. I pick it up immediately and plaster a fake smile on my face, even though I know she can’t see it.
“Let me guess, you’re ordering some fatty food to eat while you watch a depressing movie? And, you’ve already finished an entire bottle of wine.”
I laugh. “Well, not the whole bottle. I left a little bit to drink with dinner.”
Danni laughs at my joke and continues, “What would you do without me? Be at my apartment in two hours.”
“What? Why?” I ask, torn between wanting to enjoy my pity party and wanting to see my friend.
“Because I’m having my annual party celebrating the fact that Valentine’s Day is a fake holiday, that’s why. You should just expect this by now.”
I chuckle, realizing that I’d forgotten all about it. Since her divorce, Danni had thrown a party for single, lonely friends on Valentine’s Day designed to celebrate all of the holiday’s flaws. I’d gone every year and had a blast, cheerfully hating the holiday that made being single feel like a crime. In all honesty, it had been the perfect way to celebrate in the past. But this year, I’d assumed that she wouldn’t be throwing one, considering we were supposed to be growing up and maturing. Obviously, I was wrong.
I hear Danni moving furniture as she reminds me, “Remember the rules: no wearing red, pink, hearts, anything symbolizing love, or anything else that might resemble Valentine’s Day in any way. And don’t forget the cardinal rule: no dates allowed.”
I sigh. “Danni, I can’t believe you are still having this party. Aren’t we a little old to be acting like this?”
“Acting like what, Lu? Like people who aren’t willing to bow down to society and believe that there’s anything wrong with being single in February? I plan on having this party every year until either the day I die or the day I get remarried, whichever comes first. The way things are looking, I’ll die twice before I ever get married again, so you might as well just go ahead and mark it on your calendar for next year and the year after that. You’d better be here in two hours, no exceptions. I need to finish getting ready, so I’ll see you later. “She hangs up and I groan out loud as I begin slowly dragging my feet in the direction of the shower.
A couple of hours later, I arrive at Danni’s apartment and the party is already in full swing. I’m no longer in my sweat pants, and I feel stylish in my off-the-shoulder blouse, skinny jeans, and leopard high heels with my hair down and straight.
Danni owns a nice condo on the Upper West Side. She earns a generous salary, with added perks, and lives a very comfortable life. Her condo has two bedrooms, allowing her to use one as an extra-large walk-in closet, filling it with clothes, handbags, and shoes. The kitchen is large, newly tiled, and filled with a collection of state-of-the-art appliances that Danni never uses. Her living room contains only black furniture, with the exception of a massive, red couch in the shape of a pair of lips. She keeps her bedroom off-limits to guests, so the door is almost always closed and locked. The two bedrooms are situated at opposite ends of the condo, each accompanied by an adjoining bathroom. However, the best feature of Danni’s home is her balcony, which provides a perfect view of the city. Danni’s apartment, although somewhat modern and cold, is nevertheless stunning. However, she rarely spends the night at home, considering that she is typically out having dinner meetings with clients, traveling, or spending the night at the apartment of one of her boy toys. Danni never allows men to stay at her place; she considers it to be far too personal.
Tonight, her apartment is decorated with defaced versions of typical Valentine’s decor. There are ripped hearts, posters featuring expletive-enhanced sweet sayings, and black streamers everywhere. Danni is wearing a short black dress, her long hair flowing freely down her exposed back. She looks gorgeous, as usual.
Danni’s annual parties were always popular, but the number of people in attendance had started to steadily shrink over the past few years. This year’s bash featured a small collection of mutual friends and coworkers, along with Ian, Corey, Wayne, and me. As I look around the room, I’m given a much-needed reminder that I am not the only person my age left single on Valentine’s Day.
After just a couple of hours, most of the guests—myself included—have already had too much to drink. As Danni’s traditional playlist of anti-love songs loops in the background, I am talking with Wayne and taking an opportunity to rest after my recent round of dancing. Meanwhile, Danni is busy dancing with Ian in the middle of the room, while Corey is enjoying a make-out session with a woman I’ve never seen before. It certainly appears that everyone is enjoying their holiday.
Wayne and I continue to talk, both pausing occasionally to take sips of our drinks; he is drinking vodka, and I’m working on another glass of champagne. Despite the surrounding atmosphere, we’ve actually been having a fairly deep conversation, which I can only assume has something to do with the alcohol. Suddenly, Wayne changes the topic.
“I saw Laurie on Chat Love last night.”
My eyes go wide with surprise. “You mean your ex?”
He adjusts his glasses and takes another sip of his drink. “Yeah, that’s the one. I looked at her profile, and she is still as beautiful as I remember.”
I put my hand on his leg in an attempt to comfort him. “You didn’t contact her, did you?” I ask.
He swallows the rest of his drink in one large gulp. “I wrote her an e-mail.” Noticing my facial expression he quickly adds, “Just to see how she’s doing.” I raise my eyebrow and give him a purposeful look. “OK, fine,” he groans, “I may have also asked if she wanted to have dinner with me.”
“Wayne, why would you do that to yourself?” I ask, trying to avoid sounding judgmental. “I thought you were excited about starting over and finding a new relationship. I don’t want you to get hurt again!”
“Lu, I was never excited,” he confesses. “Who truly gets excited about dating? There’s nothin
g exciting about getting your hopes up, feeling nervous for hours, and then later facing disappointment or rejection. Plus, dating is pretty expensive. Women don’t have to spend a penny on a first date, but I sure do. It’s just a hassle.”
I squeeze his knee sympathetically. “Wayne, Laurie was not the woman for you. She is a bitch, a liar, and a cheater, and you deserve so much better than that.”
He hangs his head, looking sad and defeated. “I am just so sick of being alone, Lu. I miss what I had with her.”
“I know,” I agree, “but things can always get better. It’s difficult to remember that now, but I know you’ll realize it when you finally meet someone who deserves your love. If you think what you had with Laurie was great, wait until you meet someone who deserves you.”
He gives me a small smile and nods, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Thanks, Lu. I’m just not used to being single on Valentine’s Day, I guess. I know that this party is supposed to make me feel better about being single, but it really just reminds me of how much I don’t want to be.”
Suddenly I feel the back of my neck tingle as someone’s hand lightly toys with my hair.
“Well, if it isn’t the famed Lucia Fabbo, out and about for the evening.”
My eyes close; I recognize the velvety voice immediately. I turn around to see Jackson Foster, looking as handsome as he ever has, smirking at me. Jackson looks down at Wayne’s hand clutching mine and cocks an eyebrow.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks.
I pull my hand away and narrow my eyes at Jackson, “What are you doing here?”
He puts his hands in his pocket and shrugs. “A mate of mine was invited and asked me if I’d like to come along. I’m never one to turn down a party.” He flashes a grin. “I am surprised to see you here, though. I thought you’d be out on a date.”
“And I thought you would be in bed with one of your flings,” I grumble.
He gives me a wink. “The night is still young, dear.”
I groan and rise, pushing my way past him and heading toward the kitchen. I walk in and pour myself another glass of champagne. When I reenter the living room I am surprised to see Jackson talking to Danni, his hand resting on her lower back. Danni is leaning into him, her lips near his ear, whispering something that elicits a laugh from Jackson.
I feel my shoulders tense, and a tight feeling spreads in my throat. I see Jackson’s fingers tracing light circles on her bare skin. They’re blatantly flirting and watching it makes me want to scream. For some reason, the thought of the two of them together bothers me immensely. Realistically, they would probably be perfect for one another because they are both cocky, self-absorbed, and fond of casual sex.
Danni notices my gaze and smiles, signaling for me to join them. I drag myself over to where they are standing, wishing I could make myself invisible. Danni eyes are shimmering with a drunken sparkle as she leans into Jackson’s side.
“Lu, why didn’t you tell me how funny Jackson is?”
“Because he isn’t,” I reply, not bothering to hide my disdain.
I narrow my eyes at him and he smirks at me in reply.
Danni playfully hits my arm. “You’re lying. I have been talking to him and he is hilarious.”
Danni has always been able to get any man she wants, and tonight’s choice appears to be Jackson. Not that I could compete with her, but a part of me wishes that he was planning to take me home. The whole situation is making me uncomfortable, as I can sense the building sexual tension between them. Looking for any reason to leave, I scan the room and see Ian flirting with some blonde, Corey still making out with his random woman, and Wayne sitting on the couch where I left him, desperately trying to avoid the affection of a particularly aggressive redhead.
“Your boyfriend looks like he gotten some bird’s attention,” Jackson says, trying to get a reaction out of me.
Danni laughs loudly. “Who, Wayne? Wayne isn’t Lu’s boyfriend, he’s more like her brother!” She continues to giggle, apparently unaware that Jackson and I aren’t laughing.
Frustrated, I leave the two of them and approach Wayne. Obviously, he is in need of some assistance; the redhead has him pinned against the end of the couch, and she is practically seated on top of him. His constant squirming and attempts at polite rejection only serve to make the situation more comical.
“Hey, Wayne, do you want to get a drink with me?” I hold my hand out for him to take.
He grabs it and I pull him to his feet.
“Sorry, uh, you…” he says, forgetting the woman’s name. “Good luck tonight.” He drags me to the kitchen, whispering his gratitude over and over. I glance over my shoulder and see Jackson staring at me, obviously bothered about something.
As soon as we enter the kitchen, Wayne drops my hand and makes himself another drink.
“Are you OK?” I ask him with a smile.
He takes a large sip of his drink. “I am now. That woman would have taken my clothes off if you hadn’t come over to rescue me!”
I chuckle and pour myself more champagne.
“She kept telling me that her divorce had just been finalized, and that she wanted to celebrate, naked.” He shakes his head and blushes. “She was very drunk.”
I laugh out loud, covering my mouth to stifle a snort. “You should have sent her to Ian. You know how he loves damaged women.”
Wayne pokes his head out the door, peering carefully into the living room. “I don’t think I need to—Ian is talking to her now.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Wow, Ian has quite the radar.”
Wayne nods and asks, “Do you think we could just stay in here all night? There’s plenty of alcohol and food, so we won’t starve. I think we’ll be able to survive.”
Considering that it will save me the annoyance of having to watch Jackson flirt with Danni, I’m a strong supporter of Wayne’s idea. The two of us take a seat on the floor, snacking on the chips Danni has set out and discussing some of Wayne’s experiences on Chat Love. Suddenly, Danni comes bursting into the kitchen.
“Lu, someone wants to talk to you,” she says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the living room.
She deposits me in front of Jackson, who is now accompanied by a very handsome man with short blonde hair and big brown eyes. I look at them both and smile, still not sure why it was so urgent that I come to the living room. The man’s eyes light up and he smiles while Jackson’s eyes narrow at me and his jaw clenches.
“Chris, this is my friend Lucia.” Danni squeezes my hand. “Lucia, this is Chris, Jackson’s friend.”
Chris is almost as tall as Jackson, and he looks down at me with a cordial nod as he offers his hand for me to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucia,” he says in a British accent.
I ask him, “How do you know Jackson?”
He gives me another smile and takes a step closer to me, “We grew up in London together. I moved here before he did. In fact, I had to convince Jackson to move here after Lisa.”
Jackson cuts in, snapping at his friend, “She doesn’t need to hear about that.”
I look at Jackson and see him staring at me intensely, which makes me uncomfortable. I turn back to look at Chris and see that he is staring at my chest. The entire situation has me feeling multiple degrees of discomfort, so I politely excuse myself to the restroom.
As I’m leaving the bathroom I bump into Jackson, almost knocking him over. I take a step back and my back hits the wall. He moves in closer to me, putting his right hand near my head and cornering me in a way that makes me feel both fear and desire. He looks angry, and I’m curious as to why.
“Chris likes you,” he blurts out. “I told him to stay away from you.”
Feeling both flattered and angry I hiss, “Excuse me? Just who do you think you are?”
He leans in closer and I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “Chris doesn’t do relationships. He just wants to shag you, nothing more.”
I roll my e
yes at him. “You have a lot of nerve, do you know that? You were all over my friend just an hour ago, and now you’re telling me to stay away from yours?”
He leans in closer, his lips near my ear. “I just know that you don’t want to be a one-night stand.”
“How do you know what I want?” I ask, crossing my arms.
He leans in and places his lips on my neck, leaving a trail of little kisses. They travel down to my bare shoulder, as he nibbles lightly, making me moan slightly in spite of myself. In a low voice he says, “You’re not that kind of woman. You want to be cherished.” He looks up at me, making deliberate eye contact. “You deserve to be cherished.”
He glances at my lips and leans in closer. As much as I want to feel his lips on mine, I can’t help but think of him flirting with Danni just a few hours before. I lean back, hitting my head against the wall.
“What about Danni?” I ask.
He pulls back, a confused expression on his face. “What about her?”
“You want her.”
“Do I?” he asks, cocking one eyebrow. “If I wanted her I would have her already.” He leans in and kisses my bare shoulder again. “I think it’s obvious who I want.” He lifts his head and stares at me, taking my chin between his fingers and gently turning it in the direction of Danni and Chris. He moves his arm away from the wall so I can see, and I’m surprised to see Danni standing in the middle of the living room, locked in a kiss with Chris. I feel Jackson’s lips on my neck again.
“I told Danni that she should stop trying with me and go for Chris instead.”
I move my head and look him in the eye. “Why?”
He leans into me, and I feel his full weight pressing against my body. “Because I want you, not her.”
A light moan escapes my lips as I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall, enjoying the feeling of our bodies pressed together. We are suddenly interrupted when someone bumps into Jackson. I pull away and see Autumn standing there, tears streaking down her face.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, blushing. “I was just trying to get to the bathroom.” She hangs her head and looks around as if she’s trying to find somewhere to hide.
Chat Love Page 9