Out in the Open

by Glazer, J B

  “I drank enough last night to last me through the week,” I tell him.

  “Oh? Big night out?”

  “A bunch of us went to Casa Maya for dinner then Century Club,” Liv informs him. “They have killer margaritas there.”

  “I’ve been,” says Jake. “Cool place.”

  The waitress returns with Jake’s beer and asks us if we’re ready to order.

  “We haven’t looked yet. Can you give us a few minutes?” I ask. After she walks away, I turn to Jake. “What do you typically order here?”

  “All the rolls are good. My favorite is the Red Dragon maki. Do you want to split some?”

  “I don’t eat sushi,” I tell him.

  “Really?” He seems surprised. “What do you eat here?”

  “I usually get chicken teriyaki. I don’t like seaweed or most fish, but I’ll eat some whitefish as long as it’s mild. The two of you are welcome to share some rolls, though.”

  He and Liv agree on a selection. “Have you had sashimi?” Jake asks me.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You can try one of mine. There’s no seaweed, and I ordered one with sea bass.”

  “OK. I’ll try it,” I tell him.

  We decide to share edamame as an appetizer.

  “So, Jake,” Liv says, “what do you do at Hartman and Taylor?”

  “I work in the New Business group. We essentially try to bring in new clients for the agency.”

  “Lexi tells me you’ve been winning a lot of accounts. What’s your secret?”

  He smiles. “No secret really. We just have a talented group of people, and I know the right questions to ask.”

  “Oh?” she says. “Like what?”

  “Well, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I listen to what our clients want. I try to let them do most of the talking and probe when I pick up what I think is interesting information. People love to tell you about themselves. I ask them about their work, accomplishments, that sort of thing. They’re always happy to share anything that makes them look good. Once they’ve done that and feel comfortable, I can get at what I really want: their goals, challenges, and what keeps them up at night.”

  “Sneaky,” says Liv.

  “It’s a smart strategy,” I tell him. He gives me a somewhat embarrassed smile that makes my heart race. Yes, I’m sure he’s successful because of his strategy, but he underestimates the power of that smile. The waitress brings our appetizer, and I notice that Jake offers the bowl to us first.

  “Do you and Lexi work together?” Liv asks.

  “No,” I tell her, even though she already knows the answer. “I haven’t worked on any pitches yet.”

  “Actually,” says Jake, “I just learned of a lead for a fragrance company. I’m not sure if it’ll pan out, but if it does, I’d love to pick your brain.”

  “Sure,” I tell him. “I’d be happy to help. I used to work on new business pitches at my old agency from time to time. It’s nice to work on something different. Plus I have a lot of prestige experience that I’m sure will apply.”

  When the waitress brings our meals, Jake puts a piece of sashimi on my plate. “Try it,” he says. I take a small bite. Jake laughs. I take a bigger bite.

  “What do you think?”

  “Not bad,” I tell him.

  He gives me a satisfied smile. “Want a roll?”

  “Now you’re pushing it.”

  Then Jake turns his attention to Liv. He asks her what she does, and she talks about her teaching.

  “What grade do you teach?”

  “High school English.”

  “That must be challenging. Kids these days have access to so much information on the Internet. How do you know if their work is really their own?”

  I’ve often wondered the same thing.

  “We have a program that helps track that sort of thing. Plus we do a Google search on the topic and know most of the common papers kids copy. Once the students learn that, they figure it’s easier to write the papers on their own than risk getting expelled.”

  “Kids can get expelled for plagiarizing?” Jake asks.

  “Yes, we need a strong incentive for them not to do it.”

  I’m so glad Liv and Jake are getting along. She can be judgmental, and trust me, no guy wants to experience the wrath of Liv.

  “You two seem like you’ve been friends for a long time,” Jake comments. “How long have you known each other?”

  “Since our freshman year in high school,” I tell him. “Liv and I met in first-period algebra. We bonded over our hatred of quadratic equations.”

  “Yeah.” Liv rolls her eyes. “It was the only subject Lexi wasn’t good at.”

  I ignore her comment. “When I decided to move back to Chicago, Liv offered to rent me one of her bedrooms.”

  “It must be fun to share that history and now live together,” he says.

  “Yes, although I’m actually moving soon.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Liv is moving in with her boyfriend.”

  “How long have you been dating him?” he asks her.

  “Nine months, but when you know, you know. I figure there’s no use in wasting time.”

  “I agree,” Jake says. He turns to me and asks, “So where are you moving?”

  “Within the building. It’s a one-bedroom a few floors down. I love the neighborhood, and the timing worked out with the lease. Now I’ve just got to start packing and figure out if I should hire movers.”

  “How much stuff do you have?”

  “Not a lot. All the furniture is Liv’s except my bed, dresser, and nightstand. I figured I could walk a lot of the stuff down and maybe recruit Simon to help me with the bigger pieces.”

  He looks at me and says, “You’re joking, right?”

  “No,” I tell him.

  “You mean Simon as in Simon Turner?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I’ll help you. My brother Nick and I can do it.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to put you out.”

  “It’s no problem. Trust me, you don’t want Simon helping you if you want your stuff to arrive in one piece.”

  I laugh. “OK, as long as it’s not too much trouble.”

  “None at all. When are you moving, and what time do you need us?”

  “A week from Saturday. Is nine thirty too early?”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  I thank him, and then the waitress brings us the check. Jake motions for her to bring it to him. Liv and I take out our wallets, but Jake tells us to put them away. We protest, but he insists on picking up the bill.

  “Thank you. That was very generous,” I tell him.

  “Yes,” Liv agrees, “Thanks, Jake.”

  I glance toward the entrance, and my heart sinks. I spy Heather Hendricks, a totally annoying gossip from my high school days. I try to avoid making eye contact with her, but she sees me and makes a beeline to our table.

  “Lexi!” she exclaims. “So good to see you! Hi, Liv. And who’s this?” she asks, turning to Jake.

  “Heather, this is Jake,” I say, offering no further explanation.

  She takes his hand, gives him a huge smile, and bats her eyelashes at him. I want to vomit, not only in response to her ridiculous gesture, but because I know what’s coming. She turns her attention back to me. “I’ve been wondering if I was going to run into you, Lexi. I heard you were back in town. I was so sorry to hear about your broken engagement. And so soon before the wedding, you poor thing. Tell me, is it true you walked in on him?”

  I sit there for a second, speechless. Then Liv pipes up. “It’s a good thing Lexi realized things weren’t right before the wedding. She’s doing great—in fact she already has guys banging down her door. Now tell me about you. Are you married?”

  Heather shakes her head. “No.”

  “Engaged?” Liv asks.

  “No,” she says again, a bit more uncertainly.

  �
�Well, are you dating anyone seriously?

  “I’m dating someone,” Heather says a bit crossly.

  “Well, I hope it works out. It’s so hard to meet quality guys at our age. Anyway, it was sooo good to see you. Take care,” Liv says brightly.

  Heather storms away from our table. There’s an awkward silence. Liv spies one of her students and says, “I have to go say hello. It may be a few minutes—the mom’s a talker.”

  I walk outside and Jake follows me. I will myself not to cry; I don’t like people to see me being vulnerable.

  “You know, Heather’s jealous of you,” he says.

  “What? Why do you say that?”

  “She obviously was trying to get to you. No normal person would say that to someone. Clearly she was trying to get a rise out of you, or she’s just so insecure that it was the only thing she could do to make herself feel better.”

  “She was always a social climber.”

  “So you were engaged, huh?”

  “Yes,” I tell him.

  “Is that why you moved back here from New York?”

  I nod. “I haven’t told many people at work. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “I understand. Your secret is safe with me. Just curious—why don’t you want people to know?”

  “It’s kind of embarrassing. I feel like I failed, and I’m not used to failure. I just wanted to come back and have a clean start. I don’t want people talking about my personal life or pitying me.”

  “I wouldn’t look at it as a failure. Relationships just sometimes don’t work out the way we planned. Maybe it happened because you were meant for something different.”

  I smile. “You sound like Liv. She’s always telling me everything happens for a reason. I’m still trying to figure out what that reason is.”

  Jake looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. “Have you talked to him since you left New York?”

  “No. After I caught him in the act I pretty much stormed out of there.”

  He looks surprised. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

  “Honestly, no. I’d rather not hear it. There’s nothing he can say that will change what happened or make it better. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. He calls me all the time and has left several messages, but I haven’t returned any of them.”

  “Do you think you’d ever reconcile?”

  “It’s doubtful. I never could trust him after what he did. Besides, if he really wanted to get back together, he’d have to do something big.”

  “What do you mean?” Jake asks.

  “You know, like a grand gesture to show me how much I mean to him. Phone calls are easy—he’d need to do something that really proves he’s serious.”

  “What kind of gesture?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll know it when I see it.”

  Liv is back, and the discussion is over.

  “Come on. I’ll drive you guys home,” Jake says.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I tell him. “It’s totally out of your way.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s only a ten-minute drive at this hour.” I try to protest, but he hands his ticket to the valet. “I drove here because I was out doing errands. I have my car anyway.” The valet pulls up a few minutes later, and Jake opens the passenger’s-side door. “Come on. Get in.” Liv climbs into the back and lets me take the front seat. I’m pretty quiet on the ride home.

  Liv tries to break the tension by saying, “I guess Lexi told you about Ben then? Can you believe the nerve Heather has?”

  “You did a nice job of putting her in her place,” Jake responds.

  “She deserved it.”

  Liv changes the subject and chats up a storm the rest of the way home. I think she’s trying to make up for my lack of conversation. I’m grateful to her and only half listen to what she says. I can’t believe Jake knows about my engagement. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to know. Finally he pulls up in front of our building.

  “Thank you for the ride and for dinner. It was very unnecessary, but I appreciate it,” I tell him.

  “It was so nice meeting you, Jake,” Liv says.

  “Same here. Thanks for letting me join your dinner. See you tomorrow, Lexi.”

  Once we’re out of the car, Liv turns to me and asks if I’m OK. “Yes,” I tell her. “I’m fine.”

  “Good,” she says. “Now let’s talk about Jake. You didn’t do him justice. He’s totally gorgeous but so down to earth. I think he likes you.”

  “I don’t know. I keep getting mixed messages from him.”

  “Well, he didn’t have to drive us home.”

  “True, but he’s a nice guy. He could have just done it to be polite.”

  “I don’t think so. There’s polite, and then there’s totally going out of your way. Plus he offered to help you move. Don’t give up on him yet.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I know I won’t.

  The week passes quickly. Every day I come home from work and pack. Since I have Jake and Nick helping, I decide it’ll be easier to put my stuff in boxes rather than going back and forth with small loads. I carefully label each box with its contents and which room it belongs in; I figure it’ll make unpacking that much easier. I decide to take the day off on Friday so I can finish up without having to pull an all-nighter. On Thursday I swing by Jake’s office to make sure we’re still on. I knock, and he smiles when he sees me.

  “Lexi,” he says, “are we still on for Saturday?”

  “Yes, I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Nine thirty. I’ve got it.”

  “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

  “Actually I think that makes two. I also saved you from shady karaoke guy.”

  “No, we called it even, remember?”

  “That’s right. Seriously, you don’t owe me anything, but as I was telling you at dinner, I could use your help with this fragrance pitch.”

  I take a seat. “Do you have a brief?”

  “Here.” He hands it to me.

  I read through it and ask to borrow a pen. Then I write notes and some questions in the margins. I tell him my thoughts, and he asks if I’d be willing to work on the project with him if he clears it with Morgan.

  “Absolutely,” I tell him.

  “Thanks, Lexi.”

  “Now we’re even,” I say, standing up. “See you Saturday.”

  “Bright and early,” he says as I walk out the door.

  On Saturday I wake up at 7:00 a.m. then eat a bowl of oatmeal, take a quick shower, and throw on a bright pink tank top and a pair of Lululemon capris that have some cute ruching on the side. I pile my hair in a bun then pack my last box. My phone rings just as I’m finishing. It’s Roland, my favorite doorman, announcing Jake and Nick’s arrival. “Send them up,” I tell him.

  There’s a knock on my door a few minutes later. I open it and Jake says, “Your movers have arrived.” He looks so cute. It’s rare that I get to see him in casual clothes. His hair is still damp, and he’s wearing a light blue T-shirt—which I swear he did on purpose to bring out the color of his eyes—khaki cargo shorts, and sneakers. Nick looks very much like Jake but with darker, longer hair. Good looks definitely run in the family. Jake makes introductions.

  “Lexi, this is my brother Nick. Nick, this is Lexi.”

  “Hi,” he says, giving me a slow, lazy grin.

  “Thank you so much for helping,” I say, trying not to sound flustered.

  “No problem,” says Nick. “Where’s all your stuff?”

  I lead them to my bedroom and show him the furniture and pile of boxes.

  “You’ve labeled all your boxes?” Nick asks.

  Now I’m embarrassed. “Yeah, I figured it would be easier to unpack that way. What can I say? I like things organized.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Jake says. “It’s why you’re such a good account person.”

  He and Nick agree to move the heavy th
ings first then my boxes. I tell them I’ve reserved the freight elevator so they can pack in as much as they want before we head down.

  “Great, now you, out of the way,” Jake says.

  He and Nick take apart my headboard and bed frame first. I watch as they expertly work and notice that Jake is very good with his hands. They move the frame out then the mattress. Next is the dresser. As Jake lifts it, I see the definition in his arms as he strains against its weight. I allow myself to check out his body, lingering on his shorts.

  “Lexi,” he says, breaking my reverie, “we’re ready to go downstairs.”

  Crap. I hope he didn’t notice me staring at him. I steal a glance at Nick; he gives me a wink, and I know I’ve been had. Embarrassed, I follow them and help carry some of the lightweight boxes.

  “How many boxes of shoes do you have?” Nick asks me.

  “I didn’t count. Maybe five.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Girls and their shoes.”

  “Shoes can make or break an outfit,” I tell him. “Plus you need shoes for lots of different occasions. There’s formal, casual, heels, flats, boots—and you need to have all those shoes in a variety of colors.”

  “OK, I get it.” He opens the box and takes out a pair of five-inch platform sandals. “You can walk in these?”

  “You’d be shocked to know they’re quite comfortable.”

  He studies a pair of my stiletto heels. “These can be used as a weapon,” he says.

  I laugh. “Good point. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I start unpacking while Jake and Nick finish carrying in the rest of my stuff. They’re done by eleven thirty.

  “Thank you both so much. Please—let me buy you lunch.”

  “No, that’s OK,” says Jake.

  “Come on. I insist. You did me a huge favor. There’s a great restaurant at the end of the block.” He looks uncertain. “They have amazing burgers,” I say, trying to tempt him.

  “Sold,” says Nick.

  I look at Jake. “It’s not the Ritz. Let me buy you a burger.”

  “OK,” he says, relenting.

  We walk down the street and sit outside to take advantage of the beautiful late-spring day. The waitress arrives, and I order Jake and Nick a beer and an iced tea for myself.

  “So,” I ask them, “who’s older?”

  “Me,” says Jake, “by three years.”