by Michelle Lee
Then there's Geoffrey. He has a straw between his lips, the other end submerged in a vibrant orange cocktail. A small smile tugs at his lips, while his eyes…his eyes are fixed on Patrick, and there's this glimmer in them, expressing how much Patrick means to him, how much he loves him. Love. That four letter word has definitely not eluded those two. There's a strange pang in my chest. Love. Will that word ever stop eluding me? Maybe Griffin? Could it be like that with Griffin?
Before I can get lost in my own pity party, Geoffrey's gaze meets mine. His eyes light up, and a smile overtakes his features. He motions to me with a nod of his head, and I have three sets of eyes on me—all on me. I suddenly feel as though every single set of eyes in the restaurant are on me. Watching me and my every move.
Patrick bounces in his chair, as if he's turned into a baby in one of those jumpy things parents attach to the doorway. Yep, he's beyond Tigger. Ashlee seems to be his twin at the moment. Geoffrey starts flailing his arms, calling me over. Those eyes—that I thought were all on me—are probably, if not definitely, focused on Geoffrey—a very exuberant Geoffrey.
"Zoey! Come on, hot stuff. Get your pretty little ass over here," Geoffrey demands, so not only I hear him, but half the place does as well.
I quickly make my way over to them, avoiding all eye contact with the other patrons. I feel the heat creep up my neck, and I just know I am blushing like there's no tomorrow. Geoffrey's massive arms wrap around me, and his hug lifts me off the ground. If the patrons of this place didn't notice me before, when I first walked in, they definitely notice me now. My legs dangle and sway like I'm a ragdoll.
"Geoffrey, put her down," Patrick chides.
Geoffrey complies and pulls a chair out for me.
"Boo, you are such a gentleman," Patrick coos.
Geoffrey gives me a wink and takes his seat as well. Ashlee side-hugs me; it's been a while since we've seen each other. Our waiter comes over and takes my drink and our food order.
"Oooo, isn't he just scrumdiliumptuous?" Patrick remarks.
Geoffrey simply rolls his eyes and gives Patrick a nudge.
"No worries, Sweetcheeks, you're all the man I need."
And just like that, they are lost in each other's eyes and coming dangerously close to having a full-on make out session. At the same time, Ashlee and I clear our throats before the make out session can begin.
"Sorry," Geoffrey and Patrick say in unison, Patrick slightly pink.
"So, what's new?" Patrick asks, waggling his eyebrows and staring straight at me.
I shrug my shoulders. "Not much."
"Oh, don't give us that, Zo. No use pretending, like we don't know," Geoffrey begins.
I immediately turn and glare at Ashlee.
"Don't look at me. My lips have been sealed." Ashlee zips her lips.
"Oh, who are you kidding, Ashlee? You know damn well that, since you've met your cowboy, those pouty lips of yours have not been sealed," Patrick adds.
Our waiter chooses that precise moment to deliver my drink, and he nearly chokes when he hears Patrick's remark. He hightails it before I can even apologize.
Geoffrey continues, "Oh it wasn't Ashlee. After all, he is our neighbor. And as neighbors, we do talk from time to time. And it just so happens our neighbor has been a little giddy over a certain little auburn brunette."
Now it's my turn to nearly choke.
Wow, Griffin's been talking about me? Talking about me to these two.
I feel my face heat up, and a tingly sensation builds inside at just the thought of Griffin.
"I think someone is just as giddy," Patrick comments, nudging his chin towards me.
"Although I am a little surprised," Geoffrey remarks.
"Why?" Ashlee asks what I was about to.
"Oh, it's just that the night of the party, I could have been certain that there was something going on between Zoey and Tarzalicious ," Geoffrey responds.
Patrick nods.
"Why would you think that?" I beat Ashlee to the punch.
"There was fierce, hot, lust going on between the two of you. I mean, you two totally gave off this sexing vibe. Both of your auras screamed it—burning hot, bright red. And Tarzalicious’s chakras were all outta whack when he left you to come with us. I swear if that man could have you, he would have swung on a vine and swooped you right up and away. I would have bet our five gallon tub of Mr. Wang's Love Rub on it." Patrick smiles.
I choke—again. Mental note to self: no drinking around him. Ever. Yep, Patrick should come with a warning label—comments induce frequent choking. Ashlee chokes a little too.
"Oh, Ashlee, puh-lease. I get why Little Miss Not-Too-Innocent choked, but you? Seriously? First, you've been around me—us—long enough to not be the tiny bit surprised by what comes out of our mouths," Geoffrey starts.
"Or goes in," Patrick adds, taking a long-ass sip through his straw.
Geoffrey smiles and then continues, "And second, don't act all innocent over there. You so can't pull it off. You know damn well you dipped into Mr. Wang's Love Rub for a certain cowboy. Actually, if I recall, you asked for the website so you could get some of Mr. Wang's fine products."
I turn and stare at Ashlee, my mouth hanging open. Obviously, she's left out some details about her cowboy.
"Okay, okay." She puts hands up defensively. "What can I say? I'm a big slut." She shrugs and then takes a big gulp of her drink.
"Huge, ginormous slut," Patrick amends.
"Fine…huge, ginormous, whatever. It was so worth it. Collin is just…everything." Her eyes glaze over, and she gets a dreamy far off look in them.
Ashlee Adams is in love, and I am not surprised. But why didn't she tell me any of this? We are supposed to be best friends. I have been busy and so has she—obviously.
"Ashlee?" I finally ask.
"Sorry, Zo, I was gonna tell you everything, promise. It's just that, well, you've been busy… I've been busy. There just wasn't a right time. But, I swear I was gonna tell you as soon as there was a right time, honest." Ashlee crosses her heart, gives the Girl Scout salute, along with those big, brown puppy dog eyes and pouty lip.
She's got me. "You're forgiven."
She squeals. "Besides, you haven't told me everything about Griffin, so it's like we're even."
"Oooo, Zoey, do tell, do tell. Is he hung like I think he is? You can just tell. He sooo fills out those jeans he wears. I bet…" Patrick eyes glass over.
"Um, I don't know exactly. Unlike my friend here, I am not a huge, ginormous slut. We've only gone out a couple once and talked on the phone a bunch of times. So, yeah, not a slut." I nudge Ashlee, silently telling her I'm joking—about her being a slut part, not me not being one.
"Fine, fine. But when the big moment happens, we…" Patrick motions around the table…"we want details."
I kinda nod. I've never been one to kiss and tell.
"So, you and Griffin really hit it off, even though Tarzalicious and you…" Geoffrey begins, but I have to stop him before he says anything else.
"Evan and I are just friends," I state matter-of-factly.
"But at one time?" Geoffrey pushes.
"Yes, at one time I had a crush on him…"
"Huge, ginormous crush. It even turned into love for Zoey here," Ashlee adds.
"Fine…huge, enormous crush, and yes, I love—I mean loved—him at one time, but I learned early in our friendship that that's all it is— was— at least on my side. Evan has never thought of me in any other way. We're friends, best friends, and I'm totally not his type," I admit. A knot twists in the pit of my stomach. Even after all these years, for some reason it still hurts to say out loud. I shake my head.
"You okay, Zoey?" Ashlee inquires, her hand slipping in mine.
I nod.
"So what is his type?" Geoffrey asks, his eyes wide with anticipation like he's hoping I say Evan's type is him.
"Tall, blonde, leggy, beautiful, big boobs, so not me," I easily respond.
Total no
brainer.
"Well, there was this one girl," Ashlee starts before she's interrupted.
"One girl what?" Geoffrey and Patrick ask in unison, their fruity drinks forgotten. They are mesmerized all of the sudden as their hands intertwine under their chins waiting for more.
"Ashlee," I warn her. Not sure why, but I feel I need to.
"What? There was this one girl, Paige, who totally didn't meet that criteria, and he was totally serious about her. In fact…"
I glare at her. She shuts up.
"Ashlee! Go on, please, we are sooooo dying to know," Patrick begs.
Ashlee shrugs and looks to me. Then Patrick and Geoffrey give me Ashlee's puppy dog stare. It's not gonna work. They keep staring, their eyes growing bigger. Forget the puppy dog stare—they are giving me Puss in Boots' pathetic cat-eye stare—all saucer-like and glassy.
"Fine," I acquiesce after I get the pouty lip too.
"Paige soooo wasn't like Evan's usual plaything. She wasn't a plaything at all. She was sweet and smart, and pretty—beautiful even—with long, dark hair and glasses. He dated her for like a year and half, a total record, and then one day she was gone," Ashlee tells.
"Long, dark hair, huh? Smart, huh? Sweet, huh? Beautiful even, huh?" Geoffrey repeats and clarifies.
"Sounds like someone we know, doesn't it, Pookie?" Patrick teases, taking a long drag from his straw.
"Sounds like," Geoffrey agrees.
"I know, right," Ashlee follows.
"You guys, I know what you're getting at, and you are so wrong. Paige was Paige and so not like…it doesn't matter. They broke up, probably because she didn't fit the profile." Evan never really told me why they broke up, just that they wanted different things. We still doesn't talk about it. It hurts that we never talked about it. I feel a pang in my chest—it's the one thing in my best friend's life I don't know about. What else could he be keeping from me? Ashlee looks to me, and her eyes show nothing but concern.
"Well, it sounds to me like his type isn't his type, and from what I saw and felt, and his aura was screaming red hot…I don't think…" Patrick starts.
"Patrick, drop it," Ashlee demands.
Patrick looks to me, then Geoffrey and Ashlee. "Fine, it’s dropped. But I feel the need to say something on behalf of Griffin here, okay?"
Patrick has all of our eyes focused on him, he has our undivided attention, commanding it like never before. His playful mood is replaced with a seriousness I’ve never experienced in the short time I’ve known him. Geoffrey grabs his hand giving him a firm squeeze of encouragement. I almost get the feeling the two of them have already talked about this.
“I know, we know, you say there’s nothing between you and Evan. And Ashlee has totally confirmed that, so…I believe what I hear,” he rolls his eyes, “but I also believe what I see, and whether you want to admit it or not or whether Evan wants to admit it or not; we get the feeling that there could be something there, and before you say no again hear me out. Griffin is an amazing guy, sometimes I wish he would switch teams so we could set him up with someone that would be just perfect for him. Anyway, he’s like family and I am fiercely protective of my family, Zoey, and I consider you family now too. Griffin has been burned in the past…” Patrick is all business; the flamboyant nature is hidden at the moment.
“Olivia,” Geoffrey adds.
“Right, Olivia. Olivia and Griffin dated for about two years and Geoffrey and I were sure we were going to be helping to plan a wedding, when one day she just said she was done and left him. To say he was devastated would be an understatement.”
“I so remember that day. It is forever engraved into my brain,” Geoffrey interjects, “Griffin thought he had found his forever and when he came home from work she was gone. All her stuff had been moved out. I came home from work to see the moving truck pull away and Olivia get into her stupid Fiat and follow right behind. Griffin came home and was completely blindsided. She never gave him any indication that she wanted to end things at all.” Geoffrey looks to Patrick to continue.
Patrick nods and continues, “So after giving him some time we went over to help him out and we found him sitting on the floor against the bed with a note in his hand. His eyes were red and swollen, and his cheeks were tear-stained. I’ve never seen a man so broken. Anyway, he wouldn’t say a word; he just kept staring out into nothing, gripping that note. With some persuasion he let go of it,” Patrick takes a shuddering breath before continuing, his eyes tearing up, “all it said was good-bye Griffin. No explanation, just those two pathetic words and his name. It took him a long while to recover. I still think a part of him will always love her, but he’s moved on. I just hope you’ve really moved on too. Because if you haven’t and you really do have deeper feelings than you’re willing to admit for Evan than you do, and you end up dating Griffin seriously, and then end up breaking his heart because you realize Evan is truly the one for you…I will…I will…shave that beautiful head of hair of yours and…and…make a wig out of it and give it to some bald homeless man and rename him Zoey.” Patrick finishes with a slight wink, but there is still a seriousness behind his words.
I put my fork down and reach across the table touching his hand. “Patrick, you have nothing to worry about. Just like a part of Griffin will always belong to Olivia, I’m guessing, a part of Evan will always be in my heart. But, that high school crush I once had died a long time ago. I’ve moved on and I’m ready to see if there is something really there between Griffin and myself. So I promise you won’t need to break out the shears and make me look like Mr. Clean.”
“Good.” Patrick replies.
I nod.
"Great. Now that that is settled, when are you and Griffin going out again?" Patrick asks.
I feel my cheeks heat up, and a smile easily pulls across my lips. "Tonight—he's taking me out to dinner."
"Oh, no, no, no, that just won't do. We—I mean you—are changing your plans. You need to change things up a bit since your first date was kinda at our party and your second, from what we’ve heard wasn’t a complete bust, but it wasn’t the love connection it should have been. You two need a quiet, romantic, dinner alone at home," Patrick insists.
"Ooooo, you are so right, man-o-mine. Yes—a nice quiet, romantic evening at home is just what Dr. Wang orders," Geoffrey adds.
And before I can utter a word, Patrick whips out his phone and is pushing buttons.
"Patrick, what…" His finger is immediately silencing my lips.
So, I am sitting here, in the middle of a crowded restaurant with Patrick's finger perched against my lips shushing me, while he has his cell phone glued to his ear. Geoffrey and Ashlee bounce in their seats. Of course they know what evil, sinister plan is brewing in Patrick's brain. You have to share one to know, and at this very moment, I feel they do—share a brain, that is.
"Griffin? Patrick. Change of plans for you and Zoey. Tonight, you will have a nice, quiet, romantic dinner—cooked by Zoey—at your place. Yes, of course I have a key, duh? I copied one when you weren't looking. Geoffrey and I will arrange everything…"
Ashlee clears her throat.
"Sorry. Geoffrey, Ashlee, and I will arrange everything else. You just have to come home, and voila—instant romantic evening. I can't believe you were going to take this beautiful woman out again and not be alone with her. What in the hell were you thinking? Thank God we are your neighbors, otherwise…never mind. Just be home by seven…"
Geoffrey clears his throat this time.
"Oh, before you come home, stop off at Mark Shale's and ask for Madeline. She will beautify you, make you all sexy and hot. Well, sexier and hotter. Anyway, ask for Madeline…she'll know what to do, but be home no later than seven. Got it? See you, well, Zoey will see you later. We'll see you tomorrow sometime. Bye, Griffy." Patrick removes his finger from my lips finally and puts away his cell.
Suddenly, the thought comes to me—where has that finger been? I start to slightly squirm.
"Oh, Zoe
y, please…I washed this little ol' finger after it tickled Geoffrey's love canal last night. No worries…it's totally germ and Geoffrey free."
Our poor waiter has such bad timing—again. He nearly drops our plates after he heard Patrick's comment. He doesn't even bother to ask us if there is anything else we need—he speed walks back to the kitchen—all eye-contact avoided as he does. Poor guy.
Patrick, Geoffrey, and Ashlee find it amusing, and a giggle erupts from each of them.
"Guys, that's just mean. The poor guy doesn't know how to…how to…shit, I don't even know what to say," I try to explain.
There is no comment that quite fits the situation.
"Don't worry, Zo. We will tip Mr. Tight Ass well," Geoffrey remarks.
"Very well," Patrick adds.
Then silence blankets our table, and not because everyone has their mouths full of food. No, so not the case; Patrick, Geoffrey, and Ashlee are all silently speaking with their eyes, and I am totally left out of the conversation. Fear ripples through me. If they sent Griffin to get, glamified—their word not mine—then I say it is a safe bet that I'm next. What the hell are they going to do to me? Fuck me.
"The blue one, right?" Geoffrey asks.
"Just what I was thinking," Ashlee and Patrick say in unison.
"We will have to swing by and grab it," Geoffrey informs.
The three of them are totally ignoring me, as if I'm not even sitting at the same table as them. I try to say something, but I am effectively cut off before a single syllable is uttered.
"Oooo, and the black suede Gastone Lucioli boots?" Patrick interjects.
"Definitely, and she needs to see Martin. Some fresh highlights are in order," Geoffrey continues to add.
And while they continue to create my look without my input, my brain is stuck on one thing and one thing only; I am cooking dinner— our first romantic dinner. My heart sinks to my stomach.
Sure, I can cook, like, eggs and toast, but I've never attempted to cook a dinner that means so much, and it's in his apartment. I mean, if it were at my place, that would be a totally different story. I know my way around my kitchen. Not his. Hell, I've never been inside his apartment before. This is not going to go well. It may be winter outside, but I feel like I am on the beach, with the sun scorching me. Damn, my pits feel awfully wet. I guess, during my inner ramblings, Geoffrey made another phone call, and now I have the Bobsey Twins and their evil designer label wielding sidekick staring at me. Three pairs of twinkling, mischievous eyes stare at me, waiting for a response.