Anything But Mine

by Justice, Barbara

Picking up her knitting, she began loop the yarn around the needles, and decided to shift her focus from Drew to the date she had with Vince Moscolo in two days. I wonder where we’ll go, she thought, making a mental note to do some research on him before Thursday night.

  The next morning, Jen woke up with a headache and a dry mouth. I shouldn’t have had all that wine on the flight, she thought, as she stumbled into her kitchen and switched on the coffee pot, thankful she had the foresight to set it up the night before.

  While the coffee was brewing, Jen opened her laptop, finding that Drew had e-mailed her during the night to ask how her meeting had gone, and to say he hoped she had a good flight home. She also had an e-mail from Mike, informing her that she was to meet Vince Moscolo on Thursday night at 7:30 at Peter Luger’s, the top steakhouse in the city. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and savored the first few sips before replying to Mike that she was all confirmed for Thursday night.

  Jen carried her coffee and her laptop into the living room, and snuggled up under a cozy cream-colored afghan that she finished knitting the previous week. She looked out the window at the snow flurries falling from the gray sky and shivered, glad that she didn’t have any plans for the day.

  Turning back to her laptop, she typed a short reply to Drew explaining that both her meeting and her flight had gone well. Keeping the tone of her email light and casual, she also asked about his father’s condition, without making any reference to what had gone on in her hotel room after their dinner, and without any mention of her upcoming dinner date with Vince Moscolo.

  Next, Jen entered Vince Moscolo’s name into a search engine, and began to research him. It’s been nearly two months since I first met him, she thought as she scrolled through images of him, refreshing her memory. He looks like any normal, reasonably attractive, middle-aged man I might pass on the street, she thought. Vince had dark brown hair, which he combed straight back, and in some of the photos he wore wire-rimmed glasses. He was not alone in some of the photos, reminding Jen that he had previously dated many famous women, including Daphne Warfield and many other fellow models.

  Clicking on the link to his Wikipedia page, Jen read that Vince was 41 years old, had never been married, and that, as chairman and chief executive officer of Penn Worldwide Investments, he was among the 25 wealthiest men in the world.

  I don’t get it, she thought. He’s rich, powerful, and nearly old enough to be my father. What on earth does he want with me, and what will we talk about? As she continued to read, Jen learned that he was born in Brooklyn to Italian immigrant parents, and that he had earned both his undergraduate degree and his M.B.A. from the Wharton School of Business at the University of Pennsylvania. I guess we have enough in common to get a conversation started, since we both went to school in Philadelphia, and we’re both from Brooklyn and of Italian descent, Jen thought, as she took a deep breath and began to relax.

  Calm down, Jen told herself as she fidgeted nervously in the cab during the short ride to Peter Luger’s on Thursday evening. It’s just a blind date. Just get it over with, and you’ll never have to see him again. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to relax and ease her anxiety.

  As she exited the cab, Jen ran her hands over her black suede pants, and checked her black wrap v-neck cashmere sweater to make sure she wasn’t showing too much cleavage. She took another deep breath and smiled at the doorman who greeted her as she entered the restaurant. Walking through the bar area, Jen felt the eyes of the men gathered there upon her, making her uncomfortable, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like Vince.

  When she reached the desk and identified herself, the maitre d’ immediately said, “Of course, Miss LaBella. Mr. Moscolo is waiting for you at the table.” Jen was escorted to the room to her right, her favorite of the three possible seating areas in the restaurant, and to a table in the front corner near the window.

  Vince rose to greet her with a smile. “Jennifer, it’s good to see you. I’m so glad we’re finally able to get together.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, then pulled out a chair for her. “Please, sit.”

  “Thanks, Vince,” she replied, inhaling the faint, woodsy scent of his cologne. “It’s good to see you too.” A waiter approached the table, asking for her drink order and, noticing that Vince had a mug of beer in front of him, she answered, “A mug of Beck’s, please.”

  Vince smiled when Jen ordered her beer, and said, “I hope you like the choice of restaurant. I checked with your agent, and he said it would be perfect but, frankly, I was a little surprised.”

  “Why were you surprised?”

  “Because none of the models I’ve ever dated before were big steak eaters.”

  Jen laughed, “Well, I’ve been told that I’m not a typical model. Actually, this is one of my favorite restaurants.”

  Vince raised his eyebrows in surprise. “No kidding! Then I think I’m going to have to issue you a challenge: order for us.”

  “Challenge accepted,” Jen said, smiling. “I’m happy to do the honors.”

  “Do you need a menu?”

  “Absolutely not! I’ve never seen the menu here in my life!” Jen laughed, and realized she was flirting, just a little, with Vince.

  When the waiter returned with Jen’s beer, he asked Vince for their order, but Vince gestured towards Jen and said, “My lovely date will be placing our order tonight.”

  Without missing a beat, the waiter turned to Jen, who grinned and said, “We’re going to each have a shrimp cocktail, and we’ll also split an order of tomatoes and onions and an order of bacon to start.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at Vince, then looked back at the waiter, and continued, “then we’ll have the porterhouse steak for two, medium-rare, an order of creamed spinach, and an order of hash browns.”

  “Is that all?” the waiter asked.

  “Until dessert,” Jen said, smiling at him. As the waiter left, Jen turned to Vince and asked, “So, how did I do?”

  “That was perfect. You ordered all my favorites, including the bacon. I just want to know where you are going to put it all.”

  Jen laughed and, patting her stomach, said, “Oh, trust me, I love to eat. I even plan on having the chocolate mousse pie with whipped cream for dessert, although it means I’ll be living on my treadmill for the next few days.”

  Much to Jen’s surprise, the conversation flowed easily as they ate. Vince revealed that he had grown up in the working-class neighborhood of Bensonhurst, just as Jen remembered from reading his Wikipedia page. “My father was a janitor, and my mother was a seamstress, and to say that money was tight while I was growing up would be an understatement,” he said.

  “Are you close to your family?”

  Vince grimaced and closed his eyes for a moment. “I was close to my parents, but they’re both deceased. And I’m an only child.”

  “Oh my gosh, Vince, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay, Jennifer. In a way, not having siblings or any money worked to my advantage. Instead of playing, I concentrated on my schoolwork instead. I was fortunate that one of my teachers took me under her wing, and made sure I applied to college. She helped me with my applications and, if it wasn’t for her, I never would have earned a full scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania. I owe her, and the Wharton School of Business, everything,” he said. “Once I finished at Penn, I managed to work my way up from an entry level job on Wall Street, and now I head up Penn Worldwide Investments, my own investment firm.”

  Jen listened politely, nodding her head as he told her about his childhood and his business. As Vince spoke, she took her time assessing him. He’s attractive, maybe even handsome, and he’s surprisingly charming, she thought. “But, Vince, what about the old saying about all work and no play?” she asked with a smile.

  “Until recently, I haven’t had much time to devote to life outside of work, because I’v
e been so immersed in my business,” Vince related. “I’ve dated, and even lived with, many women over the years, but never got married. I just never met the right woman, I suppose.” He paused to take a sip of his beer, before adding, “But anyway, enough about me. What about you, Jennifer? You have a reputation as a hard worker, as well as being one of the smartest and nicest people in your industry.” Vince watched as Jen blushed, before continuing, “And you’re not exactly known as a party girl, are you?”

  Jen paused to allow the waiter to remove their plates and take their dessert order before answering Vince’s question. “You’re right, Vince, I’m not much of a party girl or a club girl. Over the years, I’ve tried to keep as grounded as possible. I enjoyed my time in college and made sure I finished on time.”

  “What was your major?”

  “Art history. Not practical, I know, but at some point, I’m hoping to go to graduate school and get my master’s degree.”

  Is she for real? She seems too good to be true, Vince thought, as he appraised Jennifer with a critical eye. “So, what do you do for fun?”

  Jen had to think about Vince’s question for a moment before answering. “Well, I really like spending time with my family and my close friends, cooking dinners for them or with them. I love spending time at my house, and at my family’s farm, out in the Hamptons. And I love to read and to knit.” For the first time since she sat down at the table, Jen felt uncomfortable, and fidgeted in her chair, before continuing, “It probably all sounds pretty boring to you.”

  Vince narrowed his eyes, carefully watching Jen as she squirmed in her seat, surprised at how ill at ease she had suddenly become. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

  “I’m a fairly private person. I really don’t like calling attention to myself.”

  Vince laughed out loud, and said, “Well, you picked an odd line of work to go into, didn’t you?”

  After a beat, Jen joined him in his laughter, helping break the tension. “I really never thought of it that way. It’s just that I’m a little shy, I guess. Social anxiety is what my parents call it. But when it comes to work, it feels like more of a performance, like it isn’t really me out there. Being a model is just what I do, it’s not who I am. I like to think of it that way, anyway. It makes it much easier.”

  While they ate their dessert, Vince asked, “So, how did you deal with the overnight fame? Was it hard to remain grounded when you became a celebrity so quickly?”

  Jen thought about his questions for a moment, before explaining, “I really don’t think of myself as a celebrity, Vince. I just go to work, and do my job. Like I said before, being a model is what I do for a living, it’s not who I am. I’m a little shy, and maybe even a little anxious, in social situations. I never set out to become famous, it just happened to me. I’m pretty much a ‘homebody’, and I’m very close to my parents, my family, and my small circle of good friends. It’s important to me that I remain true to the person I’ve always been.”

  So she really is shy, Vince thought. That’s interesting, and refreshing, after all the gold diggers I’ve dated in the past. She’s the real deal. He touched his napkin to his lips to buy a moment of time, before asking, “So why did you agree to be auctioned off for a date? That had to be terribly uncomfortable for you.”

  “It was – it was enormously uncomfortable,” she replied, before explaining the deal she had made to make personal appearances in exchange for securing a job for Chris.

  “Was that the guy you were with at the charity auction? The one who would have won the date with you if I hadn’t bid on you?” The tall, handsome guy who held your hand and never took his eyes off of you, Vince remembered.

  “No, that was my friend Drew. Chris was there, though. He was one of the other guys who bid on me.”

  “Why was it so important to you that they hire Chris? I don’t get it.”

  Jen sighed. “At the time I agreed to be auctioned off, Chris was my boyfriend. He and I were living together back then, and I wanted to help him. We had broken up by the time of the fundraising auction, but I had already made a commitment to the charity and didn’t want to break that commitment.”

  “You’re a good person, Jennifer. It couldn’t have been an easy night for you.” He paused and watched as Jen nodded, before asking, “Why did you and Chris break up?”

  “I came home from a photo shoot in Europe, and found him in my bed with another woman.”

  Vince was unable to hide his shock, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I can’t imagine anyone doing that to you,” he said. “So what about the other guy, the one you were with the night of the auction?” The one you were holding hands with, the one who had his arm around you.

  “That was Drew.”

  Vince sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, thinking back to the night of the charity auction. “Boyfriend?”

  How do I explain this without going into too much detail? “He was a college classmate of mine, and a good friend. He’s since moved back home to California.”

  He assessed her answer, trying to determine whether she was being truthful with him. But I watched him kiss you, and I saw the way he looked at you. It didn’t look like he was just your friend. “Any other boyfriends?”

  “No, I never really dated much,” Jen said, causing Vince to raise his eyebrows in surprise once again. “I’ve only had two serious relationships in my life. I met my first boyfriend, Taylor, when I went away to college, and he broke up with me when I decided finish school in New York. And then, well, you just heard about Chris.” Changing the subject to deflect the attention away from herself, she asked “So, let me turn the tables on you. Why did you decide to bid on a date with me?”

  Vince closed his eyes and smiled, remembering the first time he had laid eyes on Jennifer, at a polo match the previous August in Bridgehampton. An image of her, dressed in a white sundress, her long legs and toned arms golden and tanned, and her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, was seared in his memory. You were so stunning, so gorgeous that day, he thought. I watched as you shared a laugh with your boyfriend, and was desperate to meet you, but you disappeared before I could make my way across the tent. And I’ve been obsessed with you ever since.

  Unable to admit that to her, knowing it would probably send her running for the door, he instead simply answered her question. “Because I could.”

  Vince noticed that, once again, Jen was blushing and had become visibly uncomfortable. He asked, “Are you embarrassed?” When she was unable to meet his eyes, and nodded her head instead, he said, “Don’t be, Jennifer. You caught my eye at a polo match last summer, and I was immediately attracted to you. You’re a very beautiful woman. I wanted to meet you, but didn’t get the chance that day. So, when I heard about the charity auction and a chance to bid on a dinner date with you, and it was for a good cause, I decided to go for it.”

  His revelation left Jen momentarily speechless, and she was relieved when the waiter brought the bill. She silently watched as he paid for their meal with his Peter Luger charge card, before saying, quietly, “Thank you for dinner. I had a good time.”

  “My pleasure. Do you need a ride home?” When Jen hesitated, Vince said, “It’s okay, Jennifer. I don’t bite, and I’m not going to jump you. My driver is waiting outside.”

  “Um…okay,” Jen said, as she nervously accepted the offer of the ride, and followed Vince into the back seat of his limousine.

  After the short drive from Williamsburg to Brooklyn Heights, Vince escorted her to the front door of her apartment building. “I had a good time tonight, Jennifer,” he said as kissed her on the cheek.

  “I had a good time too. Thanks again for dinner, and for the ride home.”

  Vince watched as Jennifer disappeared inside the lobby, past the doorman, and into an elevator. He made a quick note of her address, before retur
ning to his waiting limousine for the ride back to his home in Manhattan.

  Looking out the window while crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, Vince thought back to his childhood and the endless taunting he endured from the other children in his Bensonhurst neighborhood because his family was so poor. The bullies stole my new pencil case at the beginning of 6th grade, the one Mama proudly gave me on the first day of school, and no one stuck up for me because I had no friends. They mocked me in the playground, and called me “skinny Vinny” because there was barely enough to eat at home, and so many nights I went to bed hungry. Mama would have stretched tonight’s dinner out over three or four nights, he thought, as he remembered the childhood promise he made to himself – that he and his parents would never “do without” again, once he was successful. If only Mama and Papa had lived long enough to enjoy my wealth and see how far I’ve come, he thought, regretfully. I know that they’d be proud of me.

  In the dark, quiet solitude of his limousine, more memories came flooding back. While the other, more popular kids played baseball or went to high school dances, I stayed home because I couldn’t afford a bat and mitt, or the admission fees for the dances, and I studied instead. He recalled the only time he asked a girl on a date, for his senior prom, after saving up money from his after-school job at the local pork store. She flatly refused to go with me, and I was humiliated, he thought, as he remembered locking himself in his bedroom facing the overhead subway tracks on New Utrecht Avenue the night of the prom. I vowed that night that I would be rich and powerful, and have my pick of the most beautiful women in the world. And I’ve achieved that goal, he thought, as he reminisced about the women who had thrown themselves at him over the years as his fortune grew.