Show Me Something

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Show Me Something Page 8

by Aubrey Bondurant


  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I told him. However, I was pretty curious as to what the hell a mixer actually was.

  ***

  If I’d thought walking in heels was torture, a Brazilian wax pretty much said:

  Here, hold my beer. You haven’t seen anything yet.

  It wasn’t enough that hot wax brutally ripping the hair from your body hurt like the fires of hell. But having to get up on all fours for Olga, the unlucky waxer, in order to spread my cheeks had been hands-down-butt-up humiliating. And don’t get me started on the level of fear instilled when she’d informed me, in a heavy Russian accent, what would happen if I let go of my butt cheeks while hot wax was between them. Visions of having my ass glued shut would not be leaving my head anytime soon.

  Haylee was the one who had come up with the last-minute idea to go to the spa on Tuesday afternoon before our night out. After hearing for years from Sasha to just do it already, I’d been stupid enough to agree to my first waxing experience. Haylee assured me my assaulted girly parts would feel better by later tonight, but I’d popped Motrin and decided to ice the area, hoping it would facilitate wearing underwear to the party. Because I didn’t have an icepack, I made do with a package of frozen French fries, applying it over my leggings, directly over my hoo-ha. I had the benefit of privacy since I’d already dropped Tristan off upstairs with Haylee’s nanny, Natalie.

  Once the coldness from the bag started to penetrate my leggings, I sighed with relief and held it there a few minutes. I figured I had at least ten more before I needed to start getting dressed for the party.

  An unexpected knock at the door meant I had to get up, wincing, and then walk gingerly to answer.

  But my smile was instant when I saw Mark’s handsome face through the peephole. Then I realized I was still holding a bag of French fries. After tossing them quickly onto the small entryway table, I smoothed back my hair and opened the door with a smile.

  “Hey,” he greeted.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  I watched his eyes scan down the length of me as if he couldn’t help himself. Oh, no. Please tell me there wasn’t a wet spot from the frozen bag. Then I recalled I had black leggings on and gave thanks to the universe gods. For once, they’d spared me from humiliation. Which meant instead that he was checking me out? Huh.

  “Did you want to come in?”

  “Sure. I, um, brought something for Tristan. I tried to glue the old one, but it wasn’t holding, so…”

  My attention turned to what he held in his hands. A new red train identical to the one which had broken. What a sweet gesture. “That’s very nice of you. He’s upstairs with Natalie because Haylee and I are leaving in—” I stopped to check my watch. “Twenty minutes. But if you want to give it to him tomorrow, you’ll be his hero for life.”

  “It’s okay. You’re welcome to give it to him whenever. I happened to be in the toy store.” He put it on the table and then picked up the half-thawed bag of French fries. Yes, the very ones that had just been between my thighs, resting on my practically bald, red, somewhat-angry-with-me lady bits.

  “Um, here, I’ll take those,” I mumbled, snatching the bag out of his hands. “Happened to be in the toy store, huh?” Nice try. Clearly, he’d gone out of his way to replace Tristan’s train but didn’t want to take the credit.

  “Busted. Trains were also my favorite as a kid. What’s with the French fry bag on the table?”

  “Oh, I was icing.”

  “Did you pull a muscle?”

  It occurred to me a moment too late that I should’ve taken his question as a suggestion and let him think I’d pulled something. But per usual, my words came out before a filter could be placed in front of them.

  “I wish. But Haylee talked me into a Brazilian wax in prep for tonight, and it hurts like hell.”

  Both his eyebrows arched sky high. Once again, I’d apparently made him lose his ability for speech. You’d think he’d be used to my brand of crazy by now.

  “I should’ve gone with muscle,” I muttered, wanting to face palm.

  His mouth twitched into a smile. “At least no one could ever accuse you of not always speaking the truth. Um, I might regret asking this, but is a wax customary before a mixer?”

  I couldn’t help teasing. “Although I’m unaware of mixer etiquette, I don’t think it’s required.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “Actually, I did it because I finally gave in to Sasha. She’s been pressuring me to try it for a while.”

  “Wh-Why?”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. I’d made it sound as though Sasha was heavily invested in the grooming of my nether regions. “My guess is she wanted to hear the comedic play-by-play afterward. Or she’s just really concerned I have smooth lady bits.” I shrugged and watched him turn red. “And now comes the regret portion of your question. Sorry for the TMI. On another, less personal note, and switching topics, it was very thoughtful of you to buy this train for Tristan.”

  He rubbed a hand, the one with ridiculously sensual fingers, through his hair which made me think I needed a shrink to analyze why I was so attracted to them. And the hair he’d just mussed made him even sexier.

  “It’s no problem. Have fun tonight. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

  “Definitely. I have ravioli, salad, garlic bread, and tiramisu on the menu.”

  He grinned widely. “Can’t wait.”

  ***

  Turned out a mixer was basically a happy hour on campus, attended by a bunch of future attorneys. There was a cash bar on one side of the large room and about a hundred-people milling about. The ages ranged a great deal, which was surprising. There were quite a few people in their early twenties like Haylee, but there were others who’d put off law school until later in life and were older.

  I donned the same black dress and heels I’d worn to Haylee’s cocktail party a couple weeks ago since there was no way I’d have been able to wear Haylee’s shoes and actually walk. But at least my hair wasn’t in a ponytail this time. I’d left it down and managed to put some curl into it. And speaking of hair, or lack thereof, my bikini line had thankfully calmed down enough I could wear panties.

  Haylee introduced me to quite a few of her fellow students. However, it was clear even she felt out of place.

  “This is the first purely social event I’ve attended here, so I think everyone is in shock to see me,” Haylee commented, sipping on her wine and looking around.

  I’d already gotten that impression from the comments people had given her. ‘Oh, my God, you’re here’ seemed to be the favorite expression.

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It only means your priorities are studying and your family.”

  She nodded. “And since I applied to transfer to Columbia or NYU after the winter semester, maybe making friends here at this point is moot.”

  “So you’re planning to transfer, after all. Good for you. Did you tell Josh yet?”

  “Nope. But I intend to this weekend when we’re in New York for Catherine’s party. Regarding that, please tell me you’re coming.”

  “Um. I spoke with my mom, and she said she’d be happy to watch Tristan that night. But I feel bad having her come out here and then I leave.”

  “I bought you a train ticket, just in case.”

  My eyes got wide.

  She quickly explained. “Sorry. I bought one for Mark, too. Since Josh and I are on the trains all the time, we can trade them in for credit towards new tickets at a later time if you don’t use them. But I wanted to be sure to get tickets in case they sell out, that being Halloween night.”

  “Mark doesn’t want to attend?”

  She sighed. “He’s not much on social gatherings, but he’ll go to see his friends. Of course, I haven’t yet told him he has to wear a costume.”

  Mark in a costume might make attending the party worthwhile. But I wouldn’t plan to stay the night. Hotels in New York City were too expensive. Hmm, maybe I could g
o to the party for a couple hours and take a late train back home. That would work out well. Also, I’d certainly love to see Catherine again. Although she was the editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine, she’d been down-to-earth and very friendly. Her perspective on divorce had been a breath of fresh air for me, especially when she’d spoken of the importance of finding oneself again.

  “All right. I’ll go. But I need to find a costume, too.”

  “Great. I’m so happy you’ll come. The people at Catherine’s party will definitely be more fun than this crowd. What do you think about mingling for another half hour here and then calling it a night?”

  “Sounds good.” I normally had no problem meeting new people. But here at Yale law school, I couldn’t have been more out of my element. However, I refused to waste a night where I’d dressed up and hired a babysitter, so I smiled and went with Haylee to meet some other people.

  As we made our last rounds, we met up with two attractive men, one of whom Haylee had class with. I forced myself to keep quiet during the ensuing conversation as it was the only way I could control the randomness in my brain and my affinity for going verbally rogue.

  So when one of the guys honed in on me, I proceeded carefully.

  “You’re from the South?” the guy named Chad asked. He must’ve picked up on my Southern accent when I’d introduced myself.

  I smiled, detecting a hint of his own accent. “North Carolina. How about you?”

  “Alabama originally. Nice to meet another Southerner this far north.” Chad was handsome, with blondish hair and brown eyes.

  We chatted a little while longer while Haylee went to the ladies’ room. I ensured I stuck to safe, normal topics. And when he invited me for coffee on Thursday night, I accepted. After all, if I was reinventing myself, it meant putting myself out there to meet new people and—gulp—date again.

  But after he left and Haylee found me, I realized I hadn’t mentioned Tristan in my conversation. Neither had I thought about who would be watching him while I went out another night. What the hell had I been thinking?

  “What’s wrong?” Haylee inquired as we went out to the car ten minutes later.

  “I think I just accepted a date with Chad on Thursday evening—although I’m not positive coffee is a real date. But I didn’t give a thought as to what I would do with Tristan. To make matters worse, I didn’t even tell Chad I had a son. Or that I’m only legally separated and not fully divorced.”

  She frowned while getting into the car. “Well, first off, I’ll watch Tristan that night. And secondly, you act as though you owe him that information. You don’t. Simply go and meet him and if you two hit it off, then maybe share your son with him. If not, then why bother? You seem to think you need to put a disclaimer out there about your personal life, but you absolutely don’t. It’s only coffee, but if you’re not comfortable, then text him and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

  She had a point. I didn’t owe anyone my entire backstory. Nope, that certainly didn’t fit in with the Juliette 2.0 plan. In an attempt to put on a brave face, I said, “Okay. You’re right, and it’s only coffee. I know he’s not in your class, but do you know him? I think he seemed nice. And he’s really cute.”

  “I don’t know him very well, unfortunately. He’s a third year, and has always been polite. Take your own car, meet him at the café, and if it goes great, maybe get dinner. If it doesn’t, then simply drive home.”

  It sounded easy enough. It wasn’t as though I was looking for anything serious, especially if I was only up here short-term.

  ***

  I’d just put the finishing touches on the tiramisu when Mark knocked the next evening. Making homemade ravioli had been a challenge. But I’d been excited to take it on, and I was especially glad I’d made the effort when he closed his eyes in pure bliss after taking his first bite.

  “This is amazing. Seriously, the best meal I think I’ve ever tasted. Thank you.”

  “It was fun to make. Come to think of it, I might get one of those pasta makers when I get back home. Then I can do homemade fettuccine and spaghetti.”

  “Any thoughts about when that’ll happen?”

  “My attorney thinks I should remain here until the trial, but I can’t imagine staying until March. As it is, I need to call Tristan’s day care and un-enroll him. I can’t keep paying for that service twice.”

  “I love your cooking and enjoy your company, so selfishly speaking, I’ll be sorry to see you guys go. Haylee will, too.”

  “Yeah, I’ll miss everyone as well.”

  “What DVD is on tap for tonight?”

  I smiled, loving that he wanted to stay to hang out with us. “It’s the movie Frozen. And you may end up regretting your decision after the songs get stuck in your head.”

  “I’ll take my chances, but only if I get to pick tomorrow night and bring by some of my favorite Chinese food. You should tell me what dishes you like.”

  “Oh, uh, tomorrow night I actually have plans. Then Friday my mom is coming into town, and Saturday I’m going to Catherine’s party in New York City. But maybe the following week? After Monday, when my mom flies back home.”

  His face turned red. “I’m sorry. It was rude of me to be assume you’d be free. I should’ve asked.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. Normally I would be.”

  “Do you have another evening planned with Haylee? By the way, you never said how the mixer was last night.”

  “Mixer was good.” All of a sudden, I felt embarrassed about revealing my Thursday plans. It was silly as Mark had made it clear he only wanted to be friends. And because I had no reason to hide it, I blurted it out. “And that’s actually why I have plans tomorrow. One of Haylee’s classmates asked me out for coffee. He’s from the South, too, and, well, anyhow...”

  The flash of disappointment in Mark’s eyes hit me before his words did. “You know, just because someone offers, you don’t have to go, not until you’re ready.”

  This was a man who hadn’t dated since losing his fiancé over a decade ago, so I could only imagine what he thought about me going out while I was still legally married. He had said he wasn’t judging, but it sure seemed like he was. “I know, but I am in fact ready to get out there and meet people. I realize I’m not officially divorced yet, but in truth, the relationship was over years ago, and I—” Shit, I was getting defensive, trying to justify myself.

  He stood up, gathering his plate and shaking his head. “I’m not judging. Not at all. Hell, maybe I’m projecting some of the pressure I’ve felt over the years about getting back out there onto you, and that’s not fair. Who’s staying with Tristan? Do you need someone to babysit?”

  Right. Have the hot neighbor for whom I’ve worn down my vibrator’s batteries fantasizing about go and watch my son while I’m out on a coffee date with another man. “Haylee is, but I appreciate the offer.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave me a small smile. “Sure, anytime. Who is this guy? Does Haylee know him?”

  Awkward. The very last thing I wanted to do was talk about Chad with the man I’d rather go out with. “She knows of him through his friend who’s in her class. But he’s a year ahead. It’s only coffee, and I’m planning to meet him there.”

  “And if it goes well, you’ll probably do dinner after?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure how these things work anymore, to be honest, but I guess so.”

  “Um, how about I start on these dishes while you get Tristan bathed and in his PJs? Then we can have the movie and dessert.”

  “Sounds good.” It could only be me, but it felt like something was suddenly off between us.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was official. I sucked at dating. And I was never, ever doing it again. In fact, on the agenda for tomorrow was to go to Sam’s Club or Costco and stock up on batteries. Maybe I’d even buy a different vibrator for every day of the week to keep things fresh and interesting. It couldn’t be call
ed slutty if you switched up your battery-operated boyfriends every night, right? Armed with that amusing thought, I let myself into my apartment and played over the disaster which had been the last hour of my evening.

  Chad had been as attractive as I’d remembered from the mixer and smart, too. But per usual when I was intimidated or anxious, things started spewing out of my mouth at an alarmingly quick rate—sans the filter. Added to that was the fact he’d asked more questions about Haylee than about me. I couldn’t shake the impression he might have a little crush on my very happily married friend.

  Since it wasn’t quite eight o’clock, I was happy Tristan wouldn’t yet be asleep and went straight up to Haylee’s apartment. I enjoyed putting him to bed, so at least in that respect I was grateful my evening was over early.

  After picking up my sleepy boy, taking him downstairs, and putting him in his crib, I slipped off my skirt and donned my usual outfit of leggings and a sweatshirt. Thankfully, Haylee hadn’t peppered me with questions about my date. I’d promised we could chat about it tomorrow. Not that there was much to say.

  Sighing, I took a swig out of my beer bottle. At least Chad had insisted on paying for coffee and had been nice enough to walk me to my car like a gentleman. But the ‘it was nice meeting you, take care’ made it pretty obvious he wasn’t planning to call any time soon. Just as well as I hadn’t exactly enjoyed myself. And this disaster was without alcohol to blame this time around.

  Intending to replace the batteries in my vibrator when I went to the store, I jotted it down in all caps on a pad of paper on the kitchen counter. Getting those was the first order of business tomorrow. Actually, milk, cheerios and pancake mix was, but perhaps I could get them all during the same shopping trip.

  When the knock came at the door, I was stunned to see that it was Mark when I looked out the peephole.

  Opening the door, I found him standing there with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Hey, I saw your car. I thought you had a date tonight?”

 

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