Chat Love

by Justine Faeth

  “You said no onions, right?” he barks.

  Before I can say anything he has already snapped his fingers, calling the waiter over in the same way one might call a dog. The waiter walks over, looking nervous.

  “What’s in her dish?” Andrew snaps. The waiter looks at my dish, trying to figure out what the problem is.

  I shake my head, placing my hand on Andrew’s arm. “It’s fine, really.”

  Andrew narrows his eyes at me, and brushes my hand off. “No, it’s not. You shouldn’t let people do whatever they want when you give a specific order. You will go nowhere in life with that attitude. That’s probably the reason why you’re a renter, not an owner, still living with a roommate.”

  Embarrassed, I feel my cheeks heat up. Meanwhile, Andrew continues with his cruelty. “There are onions in her dish. She asked for no onions. Therefore, there should be no onions.” He speaks to the waiter slowly and loudly, implying that he thinks the man is incompetent.

  With shaking hands the waiter goes to grab my dish. “I’m very sorry, sir. I’ll take care of this right away.”

  Andrew rolls his eyes. “Just leave it. It should have been taken care of the first time. By the time you fix it my food will be cold. She can pick out the onions. Now go.”

  Before the waiter leaves I ask him quietly, “Would you bring me a dirty martini, please?” I try my best to plead with my eyes, in an attempt to let him know that I’m sorry for my date’s horrible behavior.

  A week later, I’m having lunch with Skyler at Metro Café, discussing my various dates and seeking advice regarding Sam.

  “I don’t understand it, Skyler. We had a great date, we kissed, and I thought we had amazing chemistry. But then, out of nowhere, he simply disappears. I’m baffled.”

  Skyler twirls her fork, thinking. “He probably realized that you are looking for a serious relationship, and he’s not ready for that yet. Or, heaven forbid, maybe he’s dead. Maybe he just up and died in Chicago. You never know—freak accidents happen.”

  I shove a large forkful of my salad into my mouth. “You don’t have to make up excuses, Sky. He wasn’t interested; it’s as simple as that. The one normal person I’ve gone out with dumps me. It’s just my luck, too, that he happened to be the one I actually liked. Could it be me? Is there something I’m doing wrong that I don’t know about?”

  Skyler chuckles. “OK, Debbie Downer, relax. You’re still fairly new to the site, and you’ve only been going on dates for a month, right? Remember what I told you before you signed up? It takes time. As is the case with all good things, you have to filter through some crap first. I’ll bet you my engagement ring that you’ll find someone special.”

  Friday arrives and I have a date with Casey, a shorter man in his late twenties with light brown hair and stunning green eyes. Although I usually go for taller men, my e-mails with Casey have been so nice and comfortable that I’ve decided to give him a chance.

  I walk into the bar, scanning the crowd for any signs of my date. I’m wearing flat shoes instead of my usual heels, in an attempt to make him more at ease by evening out our heights.

  I finally see Casey sitting at the bar with his back to me. I take a deep breath and silently pray for this date to work out well.

  I approach Casey and say, “Hi, Casey, it’s me, Pia.”

  Casey turns around and my mouth falls open in shock. Casey is very attractive, dressed nicely in a black blazer, collared shirt, red tie, and jeans. However, it is also very obvious that Casey is a woman.

  With a sweet voice, Casey says, “Pia, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  I clear my throat. Well, this is awkward. I think to myself.

  “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but are you a woman?” I ask.

  “It’s that noticeable, huh?” Casey replies, smiling.

  “Your profile didn’t say that you’re female,” I offer, trying my best to be polite.

  “I know, I set it that way on purpose. I really don’t like to categorize myself that way.”

  “No offense,” I begin, “But did you read my profile? It says that I’m interested in men.”

  “I did,” Casey says, chuckling. “And I’m sorry that I ignored that, but when I saw your pretty picture I just had to talk to you.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Plus, you really can’t get that mad at me for deceiving you, when your picture shows you as a blonde but you have brown hair.” She flashes a pretty smile.

  I laugh. “But you made me believe you were a man! Don’t you think that’s just a little bit different?”

  “Look, I’m sorry, I truly am. It’s just difficult to meet decent people, and I really enjoyed talking to you. You seem like you’re a great woman, and I won’t lie, I am attracted to you. But I also don’t want to hurt your feelings, and I’m very sorry if I have. I just thought that maybe, if you got to know me, my gender wouldn’t matter as much.”

  I take a minute to think it over. Although I’m quite surprised, I’m also impressed by her openness. When we’d spoken online, Casey had been a great person to talk to. She was extremely understanding, funny, intelligent, and kind. With a sigh, I sit down on the stool next to her.

  “My first name is Lucia; Pia is my middle name. It’s nice to meet you, Casey.” I offer my hand and she takes it, shaking it politely.

  Casey smiles. “So it seems that you have been hiding a few things as well.”

  Casey and I spend several hours sitting at the bar, just talking. I explain to her why I joined Chat Love, why I am trying so hard to keep my identity a secret, and why I’m slowly losing hope in the site. We laugh about my past dates, and I even talk to her about Jackson. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone with an outside opinion.

  “It sounds like you’re experiencing the typical nonsense that goes with online dating,” Casey says with a laugh. She takes a sip of her beer. “This Jackson guy, though, he seems to be more intriguing. I can’t decide if he wants you or not. He probably thinks you are gorgeous—which is true,” she adds, giving me a wink, “But for some reason he is holding himself back. I say just go for it—grab him and kiss him. You’ll probably have to make the first move if you ever want to get anywhere with him.”

  I shake my head. “Casey, Jackson is a man-whore. If there’s one thing that he isn’t lacking in, it’s confidence.”

  “Well, maybe you need to pull the stick out of his ass.” We both laugh at her joke. She turns to me and places her hand on top of mine. “But there’s no way that you would consider being with me?”

  I’m flattered by her honesty, as well as her boldness. “Casey, you’re really great,” I begin. “But sadly, I just don’t look at women like that. I’m sure many of my relationship problems would be solved if I did, but I just don’t. I’m sorry.”

  She chuckles and shakes her head. “You couldn’t be any further from the truth. Women are full of drama when they’re by themselves, so just imagine how much drama can arise when two of them date one another.”

  I smile at her. “Well, I would at least like to consider you a friend, if that’s OK with you?”

  Casey smiles at me, “I think that would be great.” Her smile widens, “Maybe you can introduce me to any single ladies you might know.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully and we laugh, continuing the conversation by moving on to other topics. Although it wasn’t a typical date, I enjoy this evening more than any of the others I’ve had recently.

  The following night I have a date with Ryan, one of the best-looking men I have seen. His profile shows pictures of a man with light blonde hair, blue eyes, white teeth, and an even tan, and I can see from his build that he must enjoy playing sports. To say the least, I’m definitely excited to meet him.

  I enter the restaurant, a smile on my face. I’m wearing a tight navy dress that accentuates my breasts, with painted red lips and loosely curled hair. Tonight, I want to look my best, because I can only assume that Ryan will.

  I spot him near the entrance and he immediately embra
ces me, wrapping me in his strong arms, his soft lips brushing past my cheek. We pull away from each other and Ryan gives me a dazzling smile.

  “Are you ready to have some fun?” he asks, grinning.

  Besides Sam, the date with Ryan the best I’ve had in a while. He’s funny, intelligent, and definitely attractive, and I find myself enjoying every minute of the evening. After a delicious meal and several glasses of wine, Ryan and I exit the restaurant hand in hand, laughing at a story he’d told. For a moment, we linger outside of the restaurant, enjoying the cool evening breeze.

  I turn to him, “Thank you for dinner; I had a great time.”

  Ryan smiles. “That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t believe some of the people I’ve met through Chat Love. Let’s just say that they don’t always match their profile pictures.” He looks at me expectantly. I stand there, just smiling at him, waiting for my good night kiss so that I can hail a cab and go home. For a moment, there’s an uncomfortable pause, as if there’s something I’m missing.

  Finally, Ryan breaks the awkward silence. “So … your place or mine?”

  I raise my eyebrow at him. “What?”

  “Where are we going to have sex?”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “You know, sex, the reason we met tonight. Why else would I go on this site and take you out for dinner?” he replies.

  “To meet someone and have a relationship?” I ask, surprised by how stupid he suddenly appears.

  “Oh, like friends with benefits?” He looks at my body appraisingly. “Hey, if you’re good in the sack then I’ll consider meeting you once a week.” He smiles.

  Furious, I reply, “Not that kind of relationship, you idiot. A real relationship, with the prospect of a future, marriage, and children.”

  “Whoa,” he says, raising his hands in the air defensively. “Who said anything about marriage? I’m only twenty-eight and I’m definitely not ready for that.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Look, do you want to have sex or not?”

  Fed up, I yell, “No, I do not want to have sex with you! Go find someone else to screw!”

  I turn my back to him and hail a cab. I hear him curse loudly behind me as I climb into a cab, even more frustrated with Chat Love than I was before.

  Chapter 12

  It is the week before my birthday and depression has set in. I’m going to be twenty-eight in just a few days and I am still single. However, despite my distracting depression, I still find myself thinking of Jackson. We talk minimally, mostly about work, but I still catch him staring at me from time to time. Every time I do, it makes me think of his lips on my neck and shoulder, and his voice, low and deep, whispering in my ear. It certainly makes it difficult to continue disliking him.

  Today is Friday, and I have decided to take a break from my Chat Love dating in order to relax and focus on other, more important things. Chat Love is a lot of work, and it hasn’t exactly been yielding ideal results. Between answering all of the e-mails I receive, talking to the guys on the phone, and then meeting them, I find myself growing weary. I might feel differently if I’d been meeting people I actually liked, but so far the site has failed to impress me.

  A band called Kings of Leon is playing on the show this morning to promote their new album. Kings of Leon is one of my favorite bands, so Iam excited that I actually convinced them to appear on the show. Standing in the studio and watching them perform makes me want to congratulate myself on a job well done. Patrick is also excited, because this marks the first time we’ve had a high-profile band appear on the show. Our show is slowly climbing the charts.

  Jackson has been unusually quiet this the morning, and I am surprised to find him waiting for me at my desk when I return from watching the band. He looks handsome, as usual, and has the appearance of being stylishly disheveled. I take a deep breath and approach him, trying to ward off the visions of his lips on my skin forcing their way into my head.

  “Can I help you with something?” I ask.

  He gives me his signature grin and pushes himself off of my desk.

  “I just wanted to tell you that you did well getting Kings of Leon to come on the show.”

  I bite my lip, trying to conceal my pride. I mumble my thanks and reach for my jacket draped over the back of my chair.

  I hear him clear his throat and I look at him. His hands are in his pockets and he is swaying back and forth; he almost looks nervous.

  “Did you hear about their concert tonight at Madison Square Garden?” he asks nonchalantly.

  I had, and I’d wanted to go. However, it was one of the most in-demand shows of the year, and I knew that tickets had sold out quickly. Because Danni had already done so much to help me get the band on the show, I’d decided not to ask for her help in getting tickets, too.

  “Yeah, I heard they were playing. Why?” I ask, curious as to why he’s bringing it up.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “Are you going?”

  I chuckle. “I wish; I didn’t get tickets, though.”

  “Good,” he replies, nodding. He takes a deep breath. “I have a pair of tickets, and I wanted to ask if you would like to go with me.”

  I freeze and narrow my eyes. “Why are you asking me to go with you?”

  “Why not? I mean, you did a really good job today taking care of them, and I know you’re a fan. It seemed like something you’d enjoy.” He notices the skepticism on my face and snaps, “You know what, just forget it. I thought it would be a nice thing for me to do, but if you don’t want to go, that’s fine.”

  I teasingly ask, “You do nice things?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I thought if we went together that maybe this tension between us would go away.”

  Perfect; now that Jackson is finally ready to talk about the elephant in the room, I’m not sure if I want to because I can’t decide how I feel about him. I know I should feel nothing but distaste for him, but I can’t help but feel an attraction to him, especially in light of recent events.

  He groans, growing impatient. “Look, do you want to come with me or not?”

  I know that it’s probably not a good idea to go, especially considering the kinds of things that could happen after the show, but technically he is my boss, and it might be helpful to attend.

  “All right, I’ll go,” I say. Inside, I want to squeal with excitement, but I maintain cool composure on my exterior.

  His grin reappears. “Great, I’ll pick you up at your apartment?” he suggests.

  “No, we can meet at Madison Square Garden,” I say, making a point to avoid ending up alone with him.

  His grin grows wider and I am already regretting my decision. This is going to be a long night.

  I am rummaging through my clothes, trying to decide what to wear. Since I got home from work, I’ve eaten, showered, and fixed my hair and makeup. Now I’m enjoying a glass of Chardonnay in an attempt to calm my nerves. I have no idea what to wear; I’m struggling with choosing between a skirt, jeans, or a dress. Suddenly I hear the front door open and close as high heels tap their way across the floor.

  “Autumn, is that you?” I shout.

  “Yeah, I’m home!” she shouts back. A minute later she walks into my closet, where I’m desperately shuffling through blouses. “I thought you were staying in tonight?”

  Ignoring her question, I hold up a black dress and a flower print short skirt. “Which one would you wear to a rock concert?”

  She wrinkles her nose and answers, “Neither.” She begins looking through my clothes, trying to help me pick an outfit. “Do you have a date tonight?”

  I continue searching for an outfit. “No. I’m just going to a concert.”

  “Then why do you care what you wear?”

  Why do I care? It’s just Jackson, after all. I think to myself. Still, I know that I want to look good, and I beg Autumn to help me choose an outfit.

  After Autumn has dressed me in a stylish pair of black skinny jeans, a flower print top, and a
matching black blazer, I finally tell her that I’m going to the concert with Jackson. She isn’t too pleased, considering his personality and our history as coworkers, but I assure her multiple times that Jackson Foster will not get the best of me. I explain to her that our outing is strictly professional, and I lie and tell her that it has nothing to do with any interest on my part. She seems satisfied and wishes me well on my way out the door.

  I purposely arrive five minutes late, in order to make Jackson wonder if I’ve stood him up. I see him standing by the Penn Station entrance, wearing the same outfit he wore to work today. A few girls are already ogling him, and I can tell that he is enjoying the attention he’s getting. For some reason, I feel a pang of jealousy when I see him flirting back.

  I walk over to him, swaying my hips and trying my best to appear both confident and sexy. His blue eyes connect with mine as he flashes a small grin.

  “Hello,” I say, standing on my toes to lightly kiss his stubbly cheek. I pull back and his eyes are wide with confusion. I turn my head in the direction of the girls and see the envious expressions on their faces; although it shouldn’t, seeing their jealousy brings me satisfaction.

  I hear Jackson laughing and I turn back to face him. He leans in close to me, tickling my neck with his stubble.

  “Lucia, you’re jealous of those girls, aren’t you?” He grins, causing me to blush. Before I can say anything he’s grabbed my hand and is dragging me inside. I can hear the music pulsing loudly, and my body is tingling with excitement for things to come.

  Our seats are located ten rows in front of the stage, strategically placed in the center aisle. Already, I’m impressed. We sit and listen to the opening act, drinking beers and making awkward conversation about music, art, and movies. Oddly enough, we discover that we actually have very similar tastes. As the opening act slowly comes to a close, our conversation continues and I begin to feel as though I’ve peeled away Jackson’s outer layer, revealing a side to him I’ve never known.

  We both decide to take a bathroom break before Kings of Leon take the stage, and we go our separate ways, planning to meet back at our seats. As I’m walking out of the bathroom, I consider how I’m having a surprising amount of fun already; I’d honestly expected the evening to feel much more forced. Jackson and I haven’t even mentioned what happened at Danni’s party, and our conversation has been very enjoyable. Still, I know that I’ll probably have to discuss the party at some point during the evening, if I want to have any hope of alleviating the tension that’s been growing between us for the past couple of weeks.