Lucky 13

by Cat Gardiner

  When the car pulled up, Elizabeth opened the door then turned to Charlotte, noticing her camera bag slung over Rick’s shoulder. “Can I drop you down in the Village, Char?”

  Charlotte looked over to Rick and again their eyes locked. “No thanks. Rick’s gonna walk me down to the subway. We might stop for a drink somewhere.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of that – well, other than recognizing the gleam in her friend’s eye. Of course, she was happy for Charlotte if she had found an instant connection with Rick, but she was also worried that one or both may well be using the other for an uncomplicated roll in the sack. That had potential for disaster, knowing how her friend tended to fall fast for men she chose to sleep with. What may begin as a casual hook-up, never ended up that way – on Charlotte’s behalf.

  “Well, thanks so much, Rick. Meeting over drinks to plan the campaign was great.”

  He smiled warmly. “I think we got a lot accomplished, and I’m feeling really confident we can pull this off successfully even in such a short time frame. Thanks for indulging me Liz, and thanks for putting up with my cousin.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. Truly, I’m over it. It’s already forgotten. I’ve chosen only to remember that Mr. December has beautiful eyes. See, how’s that for forgiveness?”

  That little remark confirmed to Rick there was more to that spark and flame between her and Darcy than met either of their beautiful eyes. “Very generous I’d say given his insults. Thank you for that. Although you didn’t see it tonight, he really is a great guy.”

  “I’m sure he is. I can certainly understand him having a bad week and like you said, hung over.”

  Kisses, handshakes and promises to telephone the next day were made and within moments, Elizabeth climbed into the town car heading uptown, homeward bound.

  Rick stood facing Charlotte with his hands in the pockets of his wool overcoat. She removed her black-rimmed, cat’s eye glasses and smiled mischievously. “Well?”

  “Well, I don’t remember offering to walk you to the subway.” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Yeah, you did. Don’t you remember tickling my palm?”

  “You caught that did you?” He leaned down to her ear, warm steam puffing from his mouth. “In my neighborhood, it means more than a walk to the subway.”

  “Oh yeah? Well in my neighborhood, it means that you want to shag me senseless. Maybe we’re from the same neighborhood.”

  He chuckled. “Your place or mine?”

  “Mine. I wouldn’t want to tarnish your image in that high-class, preppy, Upper East Side neighborhood of yours.”

  “How did you know I’m from the East Side?”

  “It’s in your swagger, the way you wear your Armani. I don’t know, maybe it’s that fact you get your nails manicured. Guys like you love to play on the wild side behind closed doors.”

  “So you think you know me, Charlotte?”

  She ran her woolen-gloved index finger down his chest. “Oh yeah Preppy, I know you, and I know exactly what you need.”

  Rick captured her finger in his hand and playfully bit it. “Preppy, huh? Okay, show me the way Punky.”

  They walked eight blocks in the freezing cold, down to Grand Central Terminal to grab the subway downtown. It was a magical night. The City was alive and festive even well past eleven o’clock. They talked, sharing little bits about themselves. They laughed and flirted shamelessly, both feeling an immediate connection, at home in one another’s company.

  Rick briefly shared how he came to live with his relatives, the Darcys, after being unable to emancipate from his parents in the State of New York, and Charlotte shared how her sister, Maria, was in and out of rehab for her meth addiction. Once they reached the still busy rotunda of Grand Central, they stood looking up at the blue lights projecting snowflakes upon the interior of the station. Inevitably, the topic of Elizabeth and Darcy came up.

  “Hey Charlotte, I think it only fair to tell you that Darcy and I previously saw Liz at the gym on Saturday. That’s how he knew about her nickname. Never in all my life have I seen my cousin react to a woman in the way he did. She blew him away. I’d even go so far as to say love at first sight, only he doesn’t realize it – or want to for that matter.”

  “So he really isn’t a grumpy, arrogant asshole?” Charlotte furrowed her brow. “He indirectly called her a stuck-up bitch just because she made him nervous or was it because he’s opposed to finding love?”

  “Probably both. He’s been resistant to my trying to fix him up with a nice girl over the holiday season and that’s why the hostility tonight. It had nothing to do with Liz, per se, just his aversion to blind dates, not to mention this pin-up firefighter calendar.”

  “For the record, Liz would have remembered if a beefcake like him had opened a conversation, and judging from the way he completely ruffled her feathers, she would have gone out with him if he had asked at the gym. Trust me; she is single and actively looking.”

  “Darcy never asked her.” Rick grinned mischievously. “A simple tickle to her palm would have at least been more than what he did. Instead, he stood there, staring down at her, saying nothing, and she looked right through him.”

  Charlotte laughed. “Oh my God! Where was he standing?”

  “We both stood just outside the boxing studio door when she exited. Why?”

  “’Because Liz told me she lost a contact in the ring when she was certifying. That girl is blind as a bat. She’s so far sighted that anything up close is just one big blur. She probably didn’t see him! Believe me, she would have remembered that hunk-a-hunk of burning …”

  Rick folded his arms across his chest and squared his own broad shoulders. “Beefcake? Hunk?”

  “Oh Preppy, you can’t be jealous already. Even though I only just met you, I can tell you’re my kind of guy. Darcy is clearly for Liz. Those two tall, hot, perfect bods are made for one another.”

  “Well … since we agree on that, what do you say about joining forces to get them together? We can have a little fun and see if we can’t bring about a Christmas matchmaking miracle.”

  Charlotte’s grin spread, thinking of all the possibilities. Stepping into Rick’s personal space, she stood on her tippy toes and kissed him. Of course, he kissed her back, quickly wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in tightly as they made out in the middle of Grand Central Terminal.

  Rick’s lips felt warm and tasted like orange-flavored lip balm. He wasn’t a sloppy kisser, nor did he leave unwelcome excess saliva upon her lips when they finally parted. That was always a good sign and it left her breathless and completely aroused. “I like the way you think, Rick. I like the way you kiss, too.”

  He kissed her again.

  When lips parted she asked, “What do you say about taking your boy to speed dating Friday night?”

  “And what will you and I be doing while they date – or fight?”

  “Doing? What do you think we’ll be doing?”

  “Ah … I like the way you think …and kiss … Punky.”

  A third kiss sealed the deal, and just like that an alliance was formed. Their mutual agreement was consummated upright and against a very supportive, rigid, floor to ceiling steel pole as the empty, dimly-lit Number Six train traveled downtown, fast.

  Liz’s Blog Post Here

  Charlotte’s Blog Post Here

  Chapter Six – Friday, December 6

  19 Days Until Christmas

  It was 7:40 when Elizabeth arrived at The Watering Hole bar, wearing her new royal blue swing coat. She felt like a million bucks, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous as hell. Speed dating. Whatever possessed her to agree to Charlotte’s wild scheme was beyond her, but she had agreed, and now that she was here, there was no turning back. The red banner sign, newly affixed above the door, and the white holiday lights greeted her.

  Inside the crowded, dimly lit pub she noticed Charlotte sitting at the bar looking trendy in a hot
-pink halter, black leather mini skirt, and boots and couldn’t help noting the huge hickey on her friend’s neck. She rolled her eyes when Charlotte waved to her before hopping off the barstool.

  Tacked against the brick wall behind the hostess was a large, green sign that read, “SIZE MATTERS.” Yes, it does, indeed it does.

  The On Speed Dating red and white banner she recognized above the outside entrance had featured Cupid’s arrow through a heart because “Life is too short,” and she wondered if she could possibly find love tonight.

  She slipped out of her coat and handed it to the friendly blonde woman who greeted her.

  The Billy Joel music and the chattering din of fellow intrepid daters filled the room, and the woman’s smile put Elizabeth at ease. “Hi, welcome to On Speed Dating, I’m Jenni – with an ‘i’ because I have my eye on finding you a match tonight,” she said with flare and emphasis with an annoying snap to her fingers.

  “Hi, I’m Elizabeth Bennet. I think my friend registered me online.” With a burst of nervous energy, she blurted out, “It’s my first time. I mean … I don’t know how this works.”

  “We have a lot of first-timers tonight, so don’t be worried. Admission is thirty-dollars, just sign here, and I’ll make your nametag. Elizabeth you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “You look familiar.” With a start, Jenni remembered. “Oh! Now I remember … New York Metro. Your personal ad, right? Honey, I think you’re at the wrong event. Our Femme for Femme or Bi-onic Women’s events aren’t until next year.”

  Elizabeth smiled contritely, let out a light sigh, and shook her head. “No, I’m at the right event,” she admitted with amused frustration. “It was a typo. I’m not gay.”

  “Oh, well in that case, thirty dollars please.”

  Charlotte pushed through the crowd congregating around the bar, ordering drinks in anticipation of the evening and most likely in hopes of quelling nervous anxiety. Of course, she didn’t have anything to be worried about. There was no way she was hanging around this dating nightmare. Tall wasn’t her thing and she had other plans.

  She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Lizzy, you look … positively … terrible.”

  Like a cold bucket of water she could see that Elizabeth’s confidence deflated when her smile receded.

  Jenni slapped the white label nametag onto intrepid dater number twenty’s black, pencil sheath dress with ruffled square-necked décolletage.

  Charlotte frowned, tsking and shaking her head from side-to-side as she took in the long sleeves covering toned arms and below the knee skirt. “Obviously you heard nothing of my advice to you. No, this definitely won’t do - not in the least.”

  “What are you talking about? This is one of Jane’s dresses.”

  “Yeah well, I bet she never wore it speed dating. And your hair, I told you about your hair.”

  Jenni with an ‘i’ attempted to take the cash clenched in Elizabeth’s hand, but it was proving near impossible when a small tug of war ensued. Suddenly, earlier misgivings of relinquishing her money proved valid.

  The hostess gave one final tug and won the fight. “Ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt. Let me just tell you how this works and then you can move your conversation to the bar before we begin in ten minutes. Here is your pamphlet for note taking, and here’s your table assignment. When we begin, you will stay seated and the men will rotate to you. After three minutes, the bell will ring, and the men will rotate again.”

  “Three minutes, Lizzy, three minutes to make an impression but it’s not going to happen in that dress.”

  Jenni continued, “Make sure you take notes because when you get home you’ll have to log in online and select the men who captured your interest. There are three categories: no match, match for friendship, or interested in dating. Do you have any questions?”

  Elizabeth looked at the tape measure climbing the wall. “What’s the tape measure for?”

  “Size Matters. Each man must be six one and over for this event. If there is any doubt of their claim, we make sure they measure up.” She leaned over and spoke quietly to the women. “You know how men love to lie about measurements.”

  “Um … I guess. Okay.” She smiled brightly. “The name, the tape measure - clever advertising.”

  “Thanks! Well, enjoy yourself and relax. If Santa doesn’t bring you what you want tonight, there is always one of our other events in the New Year.” She looked her up and down. “You might be interested in ‘Beauty and the Geek’ or even the ‘Hot for Teacher’ events.”

  “Thank you – I think.”

  “Oh, and don’t forget to like us on Facebook!” Jenni concluded enthusiastically with that annoying snap, again.

  Before Elizabeth knew what she was about, Charlotte grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the ladies room and shoved her into the handicap stall. In hurried disregard, she threw her huge handbag and Elizabeth’s purse into the porcelain sink.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  With only minutes before Rick’s arrival with Darcy, she had to work fast if that hunky man was going to get knocked on his butt a second time and make him forget their horrific first meeting. “Shut up and let me work here. We only have a few minutes to transform you from schoolmarm to vixen.”

  Ever prepared, she withdrew a sewing kit from her handbag, removing a tiny pair of scissors, and held them before her friend’s eyes. “If you scream or say one word, I’m going to tell your mother you’re my lover and that you strap it on.”

  With a few well-placed snips to the neckline facing at her décolletage, the offending ruffle separated and abruptly was tossed onto the floor like a hot potato. Looking at newly visible mounds, Charlotte ordered, “Pull your girls up.”

  “I don’t like this, Char. Please don’t ruin this dress – Jane is going to kill me.”

  “You don’t have to like it. You just have to go along with it. Santa’s not going to bring you a blessed thing unless you ask for it, and once altered properly, this dress’ll ask for it – and you’ll get it. Before the night is over, you’ll be sitting on Santa’s lap.”

  Finally acquiescing, Elizabeth reached into her bra, acknowledging that when her best friend was determined about anything, there was no stopping her.

  With a knowing smirk she inquired, “Are you going to tell me about that hickey?”

  Charlotte toyed with the sleeves of the dress. Snip, snip, snip – off with the sleeves at the shoulder seam.

  “Let’s just say, I had a date last night.”

  She withdrew hem tape from the handbag and made a nice finished edge at her shoulder bone. Finally, she knelt on the floor and, using the tape again, drew the skirt up another three inches, displaying her friend’s long, beautiful legs.

  “A date with Rick?”

  “No comment – we’re focusing on your love life tonight not mine.”

  At last, turning to the sink, she rummaged through Elizabeth’s handbag and withdrew the small emergency contact lens case she had recently begun to carry. “Off with the glasses, now.”

  “Char … I …”

  “Now, Lizzy. Do you want to go solo to Jane’s wedding or not?”

  Once Elizabeth inserted the contacts, Charlotte unpinned her friend’s hair, causing the thick locks to cascade in sleek waves around her shoulders. Completing the fantastic vision that emerged was black cat-eyeliner, subtle mascara, and cherry bomb red lipstick to match her holiday-inspired nail polish.

  She stepped back and admired her work. “My God, who knew you had this hot babe lying underneath that proper exterior. You look phenomenal. Shit, I might girl-crush over you, you look so damn hot. Forget Preppy, you could be my lez-boo for the night.”

  Elizabeth looked in the mirror, turning left and right. The dress was pretty before, but now it was dynamite. The slim-fitting lines clung to her curves, and the now dangerously low neckline showed her assets to their best advantage. She still looked classy even though she showed cleavage and le
gs. The professional, conservative woman who looked at herself in the mirror couldn’t deny that some might view the woman looking back as drop-dead gorgeous. She felt suddenly much more optimistic for the night, thinking that perhaps her Mr. Knightly would be in attendance.

  Twenty deuce tables were set and nineteen women were installed in their seats waiting to begin what many hoped would be a fortuitous night. The men who had arrived still congregated at the bar alternating between surreptitiously eyeing the candy at the designated tables and boosting their courage before the start bell.

  As Charlotte expected, all the men suddenly became aware of number twenty. And what a woman!

  Every man mentally checked off number twenty as a ‘match.’ No, no one wanted to be just friends, maybe friends with benefits, but certainly not just friends.

  “Where is your chair, Char?”

  “I’m not staying. You’re on your own here, girlfriend.”

  Charlotte spotted Rick who winked at her from the end of the bar where he stood with a love-struck Darcy whose chin almost rested on the floor. Damn that man looked good – but Preppy looked better, actually edible. She licked her lips unconsciously, sweet, vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce on top – her favorite. The taste for the past two nights only left her having sugar cravings the entire day. Um, yeah, size did matter. It made all the difference between wafer cone and a gourmet waffle cone, and she was hungry.

  Elizabeth was oblivious to the stares as well as Darcy’s presence. She stopped her progress through the bar and turned to Charlotte. “What do you mean you’re not staying? We were supposed to do this together. I can’t stay here alone – like this.” Her hand hovered and swept over her bustline.

  “Yeah, you can. You have no choice. I have an emergency to attend to and he – I mean it – can’t wait. You don’t need me; you have your lists. We worked hard on those questions. Trust me, you’ll be fine.”