by S Gonzalez
“Shopping. Absolutely. Beats moving. I have the day off today so I’m free.”
“The boxes are marked and the movers will handle most of it. We should be able to get going soon after we get to the apartment since everything is basically set up.”
“Sounds good to me. Being your roommate has its perks. Rich daddies are something I could get used to.” Wanda teases.
Being a child of privilege does not come without its share of problems. As wonderful as it is to be given the world, it complicates things like personal
relationships, sometimes. Having normal dates or even simply going out to dinner sometimes can get sticky when you are being followed by paparazzi looking to get a money shot of the millionaire hot shots daughter doing something wrong. Thankfully, by the time anyone knew who I was I had already gotten past my wild stage. My family doesn’t know too much about that part of my life. I’d like to keep it that way.
The doorbell rings and Wanda buzzes in the moving men. Manhattan, here we come.
Two hours after the movers arrive, we are packed and off to Manhattan. I phone Luke to let him know we are on our way and he gives me instructions to use the service elevator. He has staff who will be ready for us once we hit the garage. I grab two suitcases from my car and Wanda grabs her duffle bag and small box from the back seat. We head into the lobby and Luke is there to open the door for us.
“Afternoon, Emma, and…I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” Luke remarks looking in Wanda’s direction.
“I’m sorry. Luke Jacobs, this is Wanda Lopez. Wanda, this is Luke. He is the head of security and my father’s personal assassin.” Luke thins his lips and shakes his head as if he were scolding me.
“You really have to drop the personal assassin nonsense. Miss Lopez. very nice to meet you. Please try and keep this one out of trouble,” he mutters to Wanda and jabs his thumb in my direction. “Can I help you with your box ma’am?”
Luke is flirting? This is novel. Wanda looks pleased and bats her eyes. “Please call me Wanda. And no, thank you Luke, I can manage,” Wanda says as she blushes and bats her eyes again.
“If you don’t like being called an assassin then you shouldn’t have pulled your laser pointer on the poor boy.”
Luke pops both hands on his hips and shakes his head at me.
“Can you make sure the movers have the info to come up? They should be here any minute.”
“I will escort them myself. If you ladies need anything just ring.” Luke turned back to the monitors on the desk as Wanda and I walk toward the elevator. I noticed Wanda has a little more sway in her step and I presume that is for Luke’s benefit. I glance over before stepping into the elevator and catch Luke watching her saunter away.
This should be interesting.
“He is freaken hot, Emm. But why do you call him an assassin?”
“Oh God. I knew you had that come-get-me-look,” I tease. “When I first moved to the city, Luke drove me and my friends to a concert. While we were there, a rowdy bunch of frat boys decided to make some trouble in the parking lot as we were leaving. Luke saw us becoming increasingly annoyed and walked over to tell them to settle down. The boys challenged Luke, but he kept his cool and walked away. To scare them I told them he was my bodyguard and a former assassin. They scoffed at the idea and Luke, being a jokester, pulled out a laser pointer and aimed it at one of the boy’s heads. The rest of the group got so scared they ran for cover. The boy who had the red dot on his head from the laser pointer actually peed his pants. My friends and I laughed so hard the rest of the way home. From that moment on, Luke was officially the coolest guy ever as far as they were concerned.”
“That shit is funny,” Wanda said, we both laughed. “He can use his pointer on me anytime.”
“Oh Jesus.” I roll my eyes. “Ewww, Wanda. Luke is like family, I don’t want to hear about you and his pointer.”
Wanda and I enter our new apartment. It is as breathtaking in the daytime as it is at night. I take my suitcases down the hall to my room and start unpacking my bathroom supplies. The movers make easy work of bringing our boxes into our rooms and are gone within the hour. Unpacking can wait. It’s shopping time.
After a shower and a fresh pair of clothes we’re off into the city for some shopping and lunch. We decided to have lunch at a deli nearby that had outdoor seating so we could watch the flow of people as we eat. After we placed our order I felt my phone buzz in my purse.
Hey, Sweetness. R u primping for our date? lol. I will pick you up at 7.
Where do you live?
When I read the text I could almost hear his voice whispering the words into my ear. A huge smile creeps up on my face.
“That Mr. Rock and Roll? Judging by the look on your face, your date is still on.” I nod to her and text him back.
Where are we going? I need to know what to wear.
A minute later I get a reply.
Leob Boathouse in Central Park. The area near the boathouse is my favorite place in the city.
I send him a reply back. That is not far from me. Instead of picking me up, meet me at the 5th Street entrance. We can walk over. The park is beautiful this time of year.
I will meet you there at 7. I am so giddy with excitement. I can’t wait until tonight. An evening alone with Dominic is my idea of a good time. I am surprised by his choice of dinning, though. I would have been fine if he said the Hard Rock Café, but it seems as though he is putting some consideration into this date.
He texts me back.
You live near 5th Avenue? It then dawns on me that he has no idea who I am, other than Emma, a girl he used to make out with. We never really exchanged last names. When we did talk, we mostly talked about his music. Making out was more our communication method. And we NEVER got into the family bit. He tried a few times to bring it up but I always shut it down. I didn’t want him to know where I came from or who my family was. Our town is not exactly small but people with money, makes circles of friends seem tighter, and I didn’t want my parents divorce scandal to be an issue.
I live on Park Ave actually. Do you find that hard to believe? I am sure it is hard to believe seeing as though many millionaires’ kids don’t wear slutty outfits to dive bars in Jersey and let rockers finger them back stage at a concert. HA! That’s not true. I am sure I am not the first one who did this, judging from the daily updates I get on Twitter about rich kids personal lives displayed all over the tabloids.
No. Not really. Just surprised. C u at 7, beautiful. Just after I read his response our food comes. Wanda is grinning at me like a Cheshire cat as I put my phone away.
“So, Luke Jacobs, what’s his story,” she asks me
shyly. As hot as Wanda is, she doesn’t date much. Work and school are all she ever had time for. Now that she is done with school and starts her new internship on Monday, at a local radio station, I hope her dating life opens up. It is her dream job but it doesn’t pay well so she is going to keep her job at the bar for the time being. She can probably make more at the bar in tips in one night then she can an entire week at her new job.
I give her a run down on Luke and I encourage her to pursue him. He is a great guy. I just don’t want to hear about all the dirty details. I have known him for years and he is like an older brother to me. He is my father’s hired help but I think he would still look after Mark and me even if he weren’t getting paid to do so. Besides, I think they would like each other, and it would be nice to see Wanda go on a date.
After we’re done with lunch we spot a hip boutique not far from our apartment. We go inside and its red walls and black lacquer tables are filled with racks of trendy clothes. I immediately spot a mannequin wearing a short tight black dress with nothing but black lace over the breast area, ribbing down the front, and black lace trimming the last inch of the bottom. It is borderline lingerie and I feel a little self-conscience even thinking about trying it on, but Wanda insists.
When I exit the dressing room and look into t
he mirror I cannot believe it is me staring back in the reflection.
Sold!
I also purchase a red satin bra and pantie set to display under my new dress. I find a pair of black heals that have thin straps every quarter inch running from the open toe all the way up to the top of my ankle. The zipper on the back has a charm with a skull and crossbones dangling off it. Dominic is going to lose it when he sees me like this.
We leave the store and walk a few more blocks to a more sophisticated store to buy a dress for tonight’s dinner. I am looking forward to a romantic dinner but I would rather do something fun with Dominic. He is only in town for two more days and honestly I would rather eat pizza from a box in my bedroom and screw him 100 different ways, then go out to a stuffy restaurant. But, he is being a gentleman by taking me to a nice dinner so I will let him woo me before I have my wicked way with him.
I settle on a pale yellow, sleeveless, shift dress, and three inch yellow wedges. It will have to do. I would much rather wear my black dress but I don’t think it appropriate attire for the lakeside restaurant.
After washing, shaving, plucking, and
moisturizing I check my watch at exactly 6:30. I have on my new dress, new yellow shoes, and bring my short denim jacket just to add a little casualty to the bland dressed up me. I have curled my hair into loose waves and pinned them up at the back of my head with a large clip because it is summer and still hot in the city. Which also means very little makeup is warranted tonight.
“Wanda, I’m leaving. I will be home later,” I yell from the kitchen as I put only the necessities in my clutch from my purse. “and hopefully I won’t be alone.”
“Ut, oh. You better warn me with a text so I am not sprawled out in the living room eating ice cream in my PJ’s, killing your mojo,” she tells me entering the kitchen. After an approval nod she adds, “You look nice, Emm. I am sure Mr. Rock and Roll will approve of the demure you.”
“I don’t want him to approve. I want him to rip this damn dress off and…”
“Whooo…slow down. I think that is more for tomorrow night’s attire. Judging from where he is taking you tonight he is trying to impress you. Let him.”
“Something tells me I will be impressed once I get his clothes off.”
“Chill out, super slut. When was the last time you got laid for Christ sake? You sound like a horny teenage boy…or Max.” We both laugh and my nerves ease some. I may talk a good game but on the inside I am a bubbling mess. I have never gone out on a date with a guy I liked this much.
“Wish me luck, mama.” I grab my clutch and keys then make my way to the elevator. As I descend my nerves grow stronger by each passing second.
When I arrive at the park I scour the area for some resemblance of the man I am meeting. It is exactly 7 on the dot, but I don’t see him anywhere. I chalk it up to him running late, although I am really thinking he stood me up. Perhaps payback for my disappearing act all those years ago.
As I pace inside the entrance, I watch families enjoying the park. I am startled when I feel a hand on my waist and I see a yellow rose coming out from behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it is Dominic. He kisses my hair and my body gravitates to his like a magnetic force; his front to my back. When I turn around I am shocked by the difference in him. His sexy rock star persona is replaced by a man who looks like the boy next door. He kisses my cheek gently, causing a million butterflies to stampede in my belly.
“Hi,” I say in a low voice. “Hi. You looked nervous. Did you think I wasn’t going to show?”
“A little,” I say meekly.
“Oh, Sweetness, not a chance. I have been over there watching you.” He points to a row of benches opposite the park entrance. “I have been here for the past 5 minutes trying to get up the courage to walk over here. You look beautiful, Emma.”
“You don’t look bad yourself.” I tell him while devouring every inch of him with my eyes. Dominic, wearing a pair of black slacks, black oxfords, and a white neatly pressed slim cut shirt with the top button opened, is just as yummy as the hot as a rock star he portrays on stage. Knowing that under that shirt is a hot, tattooed, sexy, hard body makes very dirty thoughts pop into my mind.
“Shall we?” He is laying it on thick by extending his arm so we we’re entwined together. He is very much the gentleman already. Not that he hasn’t always been very nice to me, but gentleman by day and dirty talker with a guitar by night, suits him nicely.
We’re immediately seated when we arrive at the restaurant. He releases my hand to pull out my chair and I immediately miss the physical contact. As we peruse the menu we can’t keep our eyes off each other. By the time the waiter comes over to take our order, I couldn’t tell you one thing I read on the menu.
“Madam, what can I get for you this evening?” The waiter asks in a weird French, New York fusion accent.
“I’ll have whatever he is having.” I close the menu and hand it to the waiter while smirking at the man seated across from me. That move earns me a wink that makes me grateful I wore panties tonight.
Dominic orders the Heirloom Tomato Salad as a starter. Sautéed, Wild Striped Bass with Confit Tomatoes, Kalamata Olives, & Crisp Spinach as an entrée.
Sounds good to me.
“So, Miss Park Avenue. What is it you do exactly? Clearly you have done well for yourself if you can afford such a nice address?”
“I was born. My father gave me my apartment. I just graduated NYU and I start interning in his company on Monday. How about you? You go on tour soon so you must be excited.” I say, before sipping my water.
“The band has just been signed to a pretty nice record deal. We are leaving for a promotional tour on Saturday. We’ll be heading down south, then out west for a while, after that. I won’t be back in the area for at least 4 months. After that we will be in the recording studio, then back on tour.” He reaches over for my hand.
“That’s why it’s very important I get to see you as much as possible until Saturday afternoon. I won’t be around for a long time after that.”
Why does he care about seeing me as much as possible? Perhaps I am misunderstanding this. Surely he can get any girl he wants on tour. I mean, come on. Look at him. I know we have a brief past but that was a long time ago. He hasn’t contacted me in years and I doubt he thought about me very much. Not the way I thought about him, surely. Why would he?
“Well you could stay with me for the next 2 days. I have plenty of room.” Wanda was right. I do sound like I horney teenager. When WAS the last time I got laid?
“Stay with you?” he asks quizzically. “You always this forward on the first date?” I flinch at the coldness in his tone but I don’t respond.
“That’s right silly girl. You just saw him again after years and in less then 24 hours you are asking that he spend the night.” That little voice I can only imagine is my voice of reason, scolds me.
He pulls his hand away. “Lets see how dinner goes first before you have me move in with you so you can use me as your boy toy. That is what you were offering isn’t it.” He looks wounded. Maybe I misread this. Does he not want me? Just friend’s, maybe? His kiss last night was more than friendly.
“Well…yea but…I just want to spend as much time with you as possible before you leave.” I am confused. I suck at relationships and in the span of less than an hour, I have managed to screw this date up royally.
Nice Job, Hill.
But I know what I know. He wants me, I can feel it. Perhaps it is something else. Maybe he is still mad at me for lying to him about my age when I was 17. Maybe he doesn’t trust me. This is heading into uncharted territory. I don’t date much and when I do, it’s never more then a few dates and maybe a good screw. I don’t read men well. I hate games. I am not one of those girls who make men jealous on purpose to get them wanting more. I am straight forward and to the point, almost to a fault.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
His index
finger and thumb pinch his lower lip as his eyes narrow. “I’m not mad, I’m confused. And since you are so blunt with me, allow me to return the sentiment. Do you just want me to fuck you for the next two days and move along to the next city? Is that the type of guy you think I am?” Isn’t it?
“Of course not. I like spending time with you…I just thought that…I don’t know what I thought. I am sorry. You are being so nice and-.” By the amused look on his face Dominic is tickled pink that I can’t string a sentence together.
Yup. Just what every guy wants, a bumbling mess.
“I just want to have a good time with you, Emma. No expectations. Whatever happens, happens. I’ve always wondered what happened to you. I really liked you once and I would like to get to know you again.” He admits.
“You did?”
“Of course. I have never been the type to casually sleep with girls, despite what you may think. I am not the stereotypical prick everyone expects me to be. We’re also not kids anymore. We can actually go on a date and not just sit outside of Rocco’s van waiting for our friends to finish fucking.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I am just a little out of my element here. I don’t exactly date much.” I fidget with the edge of my napkin in my lap hoping the universe will put me out of my misery and swallow me up whole.
“Emma, I’m not looking for a girlfriend, but I am not looking for a one-night stand either. It has taken a good head and an even stronger drive to get where I am. I have lost friends, girlfriends, and even family to get to where I am today. Like I said, I like you. I just don’t want you to think that I think of you as an easy lay. That’s not what this is about.” I chance bringing my eyes back up to his.