CHAPTER 8
In nervous anticipation for my third date with Randall, I went through my underwear drawer and sorted out which of my panties were sex-worthy. Most of them weren't. Hanes briefs were out of the question. I had a bunch of g-strings that served their purpose by avoiding panty lines but my tummy spilled over and the lines cut me in weird places and made me look flabbier than I actually was. So, after looking up the best fit for my body type online, I went to Bloomingdales and bought four pairs of Hanky Panky low-rise thongs for 20 dollars each. Lainie and I were both craving a spicy tuna roll, so I met her at Iron Sushi on the way home.
Eyeing my Small Brown Bag, she asked, “What did you buy?”
Trying to be as discreet as possible, I slipped the bag to Lainie under the table and whispered, “Sexy underwear.”
Lainie removed a red lace thong from the bag and waved it around. “What's the occasion?”
Not really wanting to discuss sex with Lainie, I jerked the thong from her hand, said, “Just time to buy new stuff,” and popped an edamame in my mouth.
“You and Randall do it yet?”
Feeling my face turn red, I sucked the salt from the edamame, placed the shell on the empty plate and muttered, “No. But probably soon.”
Grinning, probably in response to my reaction to the topic of conversation, Lainie asked, “When are you seeing him again?”
I shrugged my shoulders in response.
“No dates planned?”
“Not yet.” It had only been a few days.
Enthused by the question and answer session of the evening, Lainie prodded along. “Have you spoken to him?”
“Not in a while.” I glanced around the restaurant, pretending to look for someone I knew.
“Since when?”
“Last weekend. Do you think this soy sauce is the low sodium kind?”
Lainie crinkled her nose. “Have you heard from him since your date?”
I shook my head. “No, but he's like a work-a-holic.” Quite typical for guys in their late twenties.
“How did you leave things?”
“He kissed me goodbye and put me in a cab.”
“What did he say?”
“I don't know! It was kind of fuzzy. Too much wine. He had to get up early the next day.”
Lainie snorted. “What? To drive his sister to the airport or something? Ha!”
“His roommate actually. What's so funny?”
Lainie stared at me. Waiting for an answer, I stared back. Finally, she said, “He really said he had to take his roommate to the airport?”
I nodded.
“And you believed him?”
“Yes! Why not? You think he was lying?” Please say no.
“I don't know. What happened on your date?”
“What do you mean? We had dinner, drank some wine, smooched. Randall wanted me to go home with him but totally understood when I said I wanted to take things slow.”
Lainie pushed away her plate of sushi, reached across the table and put her hand over mine. Then she shook her head and said, “Sweetie, I don't think Randall will have the pleasure of seeing you in your sexy new underwear.”
I felt my muscles tighten and swallowed hard. “Why not?”
Looking at me in disbelief, Lainie raised her voice and said, “Girl, you've been blown off! Randall the Great is really Randall the Rat!” Lowering her voice, she said, “Don't feel bad though. You didn't do anything wrong aside from refusing to do him. I applaud you. He's a slug.”
I pictured us sitting side by side on the couch at the Gramercy Hotel and how my head fit so neatly in the curve of his arm. Lainie was out of her mind. “No! He was so great about it. He kissed me even after I said I wasn't ready to have sex. He called me ‘sweetheart’! He hailed the cab for me and opened the door too. And he waited for the cab to leave before going back in the…” I looked down at the blonde hairs standing up on my arms. “Oh God.”
Lainie opened her eyes wide. “What?”
“Why did he go back in the bar if he needed to go to sleep early?”
Bursting into laughter, Lainie said, “He seriously went back inside the bar after putting you in the cab?”
I absently nodded my head at Lainie, who continued to call Randall various derogatory names. But I was no longer listening. And I had lost my appetite for spicy tuna.
CHAPTER 9
My cases were slow but I didn't want to go home, so I had stayed at work late to study for the LSAT. Lainie was having a male guest over and called dibs on the living room. I didn't understand why, since the date would inevitably end in her bedroom. I hoped she didn't plan on having sex on the couch. It was technically mine.
I couldn't concentrate. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. I couldn't believe that Randall would blow me off just because I wouldn't have sex with him on our second date. Especially since we hadn't gotten to the third date yet and, according to Claire, it was the third date rule – not the second. And when I told Randall I wasn't ready, he said we had all the time in the world.
By my reasoning, Lainie was totally wrong about Randall being a slug.
But that didn't explain why he hadn't called since our date or why he went back inside the Gramercy Hotel after putting me in the cab when he said he needed to get to bed early.
I had always told Marissa to wait for the guy to call her, but I needed to talk to Randall and get his side of the story. He deserved the benefit of the doubt. I knew he liked me and so there had to be a reasonable explanation for why he hadn't called. So I ignored my own advice and called him.
After the first ring, I stopped chewing my pen. A nasty habit and one my mom said would give me an overbite. He wasn't picking up. Voicemail. “Hi Randall. It's me. Jane. Amber. Ha! Just calling to say ‘Hi.’ Haven't heard from you and wanted to make sure you were all right. Give me a call, OK? Bye.”
Deep breath. I wondered when he'd call me back. I also wondered if he was screening my call and would never, ever return it. I turned to my officemate, Andrew. “Andrew?”
Andrew looked up from his desk. “Yeah?”
“How can I tell if a guy is screening my calls?” Andrew's sweet smile and playfulness around the office made him very popular with the female paralegals and probably girls in general; I figured he'd screened many calls in his time.
Grinning, Andrew said, “Wanna catch your man in the act, huh?”
I nodded, “I guess.”
“Have you been calling him from your cell?”
Waving my phone at him, I said, “Uh huh.”
“Does he know where you work or your number here?”
We hadn't talked much about work. “No.”
“Call him from your work phone and see if he picks up.”
My hands shaking, I started dialing his number when Andrew stopped me.
“Wait,” he said. “I have a better idea. Let's call from my phone just in case. I'll put it on speaker.”
“OK.” I gave Andrew the number and held my breath as he dialed and we waited for the ring.
After one ring, he picked up. “Randall here.”
Andrew looked at me waiting for my response. I didn't say anything and so he gave me bug-eyes and mouthed, “Well?”
I whispered, “Hang up. Hang up!”
Andrew hung up and shrugged. “There's your answer, I guess.”
Feeling sick to my stomach, I logged out, grabbed my pocketbook and waved goodbye to Andrew. I was going home, and Lainie and her date would just have to deal with it. “Thanks for your help. See you tomorrow.”
As I exited our office and turned left toward the elevator bank, I heard Andrew call out, “He's a fool, Jane. Chin up.”
* * *
Marissa didn't have cable so she came over every Sunday and watched True Blood with Lainie. I wasn't into it but I had made enough lasagna to feed all three of us and our future grandchildren, so I sat with them anyway.
Lainie insisted on talking about Randall the Rat.
/> “I'm so sorry, Jane,” Marissa said. “He seemed so charming.”
“The biggest scumbags always put on the best show. That's how they operate,” Lainie said. “Mind if I take more lasagna?”
I shook my head and returned the recliner to the upright position. “It's OK, guys. Not a big deal at all. I suppose I was due a bad egg after dating the same great guy for nine years.”
“Yeah, Jane. I still don't get how you possibly thought you'd do better than Bob. Not that I've met him, but he seemed perfect boyfriend material. Being in a committed relationship seems to be your goal in life and you were in one. Kind of blew it if you ask me!” Lainie said, before walking into the kitchen.
“It wasn't about wanting someone better than Bob. We just fell out of love, that's all. It was too convenient. Too easy, you know?” I looked towards Marissa hoping for her support.
Laughing she said, “Dating in New York is neither convenient nor easy so maybe you'll like it!”
Lainie sat back down with the plate of lasagna on her lap. “Yes, it's most inconvenient and difficult to say the least,” she said before taking a bite.
Bored with the conversation, I got up and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I had a wine tasting event through Meetup the next night and hadn't picked out an outfit.
“Randall wasn't the one, girls. No biggie. The search continues. I'll call you soon, Ris. Night Lainie. See you tomorrow.”
As I changed into my pajamas, I heard them whispering about how great my attitude was until they finally shut up and watched the show.
In bed, I played back my time with Randall. Maybe I had freaked him out when I said I had just gotten out of a long relationship and wanted to take things slow. He probably really liked me but assumed I was looking for something serious. I was looking for something serious, so it was probably a good thing I found out he wasn't on the same page before I slept with him. Just the same, I shouldn't have made it so obvious. But it was his loss. The next guy would reap the benefits of my education. Claire was right — dating post-Millennium was a whole different animal and I just had my first blunder. I should never have mentioned my past relationship and desire to take things slow. It wouldn't happen again.
CHAPTER 10
I second guessed my decision to go stag to the singles event when I walked into the room full of complete strangers laughing together. I had purposely arrived fashionably late but it seemed like everyone already knew each other. I glanced around the room contemplating my first move, grabbed an empty wine glass, and headed to a table where a man was explaining the difference between a Shiraz and a Syrah. I pretended to listen until he noticed me standing there and asked if I wanted to try the wine. The group of people surrounding the table took notice of me and, feeling awkward, I felt my face get warm.
I extended my glass and said, “Yes. Thanks.” I took a small sip and nodded my approval even though I wasn't sure I really liked it.
After a few more tastings at that table, I figured it was time to move on and so I scoped out the room for cute guys. Marissa had warned me singles events were usually attended by more girls than boys and the girls were typically better looking. I reluctantly agreed with her and chugged the rest of my wine. I was hungry, noticed the cheese buffet and got in line. I popped a cube of Cheddar in my mouth, filled my plate with an assortment of other cheeses, crackers, and dried fruit and sat down on one of the couches.
On the couches next to me sat five giggling girls. I wondered what was so funny and knew I probably would have enjoyed myself more if I had gone with friends. My mother had advised me to go to these things alone though, because men were more likely to approach a girl on her own.
Determined to meet someone before the night was over, I put my cheese plate on the floor and scanned the room again. I smiled at the group of guys standing to my left. They smiled back but continued their conversation. I picked the cheese plate off the floor and returned it to my lap. I took a second look at the guys, decided they weren't cute anyway and laughed. I quickly put my hand over my mouth as I realized I might look slightly psycho giggling by myself.
“Want to let me in on the joke?”
Startled, I looked up at the guy standing before me, took a sip of my wine and said, “It's nothing. I just thought of something funny. I didn't realize I had laughed out loud. Embarrassing!”
“Care to share?”
Shrugging, I said, “This whole event is kind of humorous, that's all.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, nodding. “You mind if I join you?”
Sliding over to give him more room, I said, “Not at all.” Noticing his jet black hair, tall frame, and dimples, I decided he was way cuter than any of those other guys who were now looking in our direction.
“Have you been to one of these before?”
“No. This is my first one. You?”
Shaking his head, he said, “First timer too. I just moved here from Detroit. I don't really know anyone aside from the people I work with. My boss actually told me about this group and suggested I give it a shot.”
“Are you going to yell at him tomorrow?”
“Yell at her. She's a woman and no, I might have to thank her,” he said before smiling shyly and looking away.
I realized he was actually flirting with me and smiled back. “I'm Jane, by the way.”
He turned back to face me and grinned. “Jim. Good to meet you.”
“Same here. Have you tried all the wines yet?” I asked.
“Just about. All except table A. What about you?”
“I've only been to table C – reds from France. I don't think I can handle trying all of them, but I'll join you at table A if you want.”
Standing up, he said, “Awesome. Let's go for it.”
After I traded in my dirty glass for a new one, Jim and I joined the small group surrounding table A. I half listened to the curly haired woman discuss the floral flavors of the New Zealand Pinot Grigio while secretly hoping Jim would ask for my number.
After we'd tried all six of the wines on the list, Jim asked, “Which was your favorite?”
“I think the Chilean Sauvignon Blanc. I liked that grapefruit aftertaste. Which did you like the best?”
“To be honest, I'd prefer a Guinness over a glass of wine anytime.”
Smiling, I said, “A beer guy, huh? I never acquired much of a taste for beer, except maybe Hoegaarden. I like the lemon flavor.”
“I'm not much into fruity beers.”
I thought about Randall's fruity wine and decided that Jim's preference for beer was a good sign. Poking him playfully in the arm, I said, “Not manly enough for you, huh?”
Shrugging he said, “Is that bad?”
“Not at all. I kind of like my men ‘manly.’”
“Not into metrosexuals?”
Noticing his Detroit Lions jersey, I said “Not at all. I like guys who enjoy sports and beer. They can leave the shopping to me.”
“My kind of girl, Jane. Into football?”
“Admittedly, I just don't get it.” Lying, I said, “But I've always wanted to learn.”
“Really? Well, I'd be willing to teach you, if you want. I'm a diehard Lions fan – never miss a game. If you watch one with me, I'd be happy to give you a play-by-play lesson.”
“That would be awesome.” I'd gladly suffer through a football lesson for those dimples.
“How about Sunday? There's a game at four against the Titans. Wanna watch the game with me somewhere?”
“Would love to!” I said.
Giving me a toothy smile, Jim removed his phone from his pocket and said, “What's your number?”
I gave Jim my number and tried to contain my excitement. If things had worked out with Randall, I'd never have met Jim who I could tell already was a much better match. A fellow football fan! My dad would totally approve. Although, being a Giants fan, he might question Jim's allegiance.
I practically skipped to the subway station and was barely shake
n when the E train didn't stop at 53rd and I had to take a cab to get back to the east side. I'd put in a lot of overtime that month and had certainly earned the right to splurge on a single taxi ride. Besides, my mom didn't like me to take the subway after 10:00 anyway. She said she didn't like the “element.” She and my dad had lived in Manhattan well before Rudy Giuliani had cleaned it up.
Lainie was sprawled across the couch watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta but she muted it when I walked into the apartment. “How was the wine event?”
I threw my bag on the coffee table and plopped myself on the couch next to her. “It was great!”
Lainie sat and up, looked at me questionably and said, “Seriously?”
“Yes. Seriously! I met the greatest guy.”
“You said that about Randall if I recall.”
“That was different. Randall was Mr. Smooth. I should have spotted him a mile away. Nothing like Jim.”
“Jim, huh? What's he like?”
“He's a chemist. Works for Becton Dickenson and was just transferred from their Detroit office.”
Patting me on the shoulder patronizingly, Lainie said, “Sounds like a nerd, Jane.”
“Not at all. He's dorky-cute,” I said.
“Did he take your number?”
“Yep. He already asked me to watch football with him on Sunday.”
Lainie started laughing. “Football? You? You don't even know who won the Super Bowl last year.”
“The Giants!” Thankfully, Jim had mentioned it in conversation.
Lainie smiled. “I had no idea you were such a football fan.”
Smirking, I walked into my bedroom, said, “There are a lot of things you don't know about me,” and shut the door.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in front of my computer reading about the history of the Detroit Lions on the NFL website when Lainie tapped on my door. I turned around and said, “What's up?”
Uninvited, Lainie sat on my bed and said, “Nothing really. Just wanted to say that I'm glad you met another guy tonight and that I hope he's more worthy than Randall.”
A State of Jane Page 4