by Piper Rayne
I nod, continuing to devour the home cooked meal that tastes better than anything I’ve ever made.
“She told me that Reed is really nice, and he makes you laugh.” This is my mom’s M.O., dig, dig, dig, but never ask directly. I’m not nine anymore, and the fact she knows all this information says she did to Jade hours earlier what she’s doing to me now.
“Just ask, Mother.” I set my knife and fork down.
She giggles, standing up and grabbing her water from next to the sink. “Are you dating him?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?” Staying on the other side of the kitchen island she leans forward so her face is right in front of mine.
“No.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love it when your cheeks turn pink like that?”
I wad up my napkin and toss it at her. “Mom, you know I’m not ready. He’s nice, but this Reed is Reed Warner. Pete’s best man when we were married.”
Her eyes widen and she’s quiet for a moment, thinking, assessing. She holds the crumpled napkin in her hand, reaches over, and grabs me another one from the holder.
“I never understood that friendship, but I thought maybe Reed was one of those Eddie Haskell types. You know, polite to the adults and different behind closed doors.”
“When did you even talk to him?” I ask.
She scoffs. “What is the term, cougars?”
“Mom!”
She laughs, throwing the napkin back at me. “I talked to him at the rehearsal. He was a nice kid. Wish I would have swapped them out at the altar.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have noticed at all.” I spear a piece of chicken with my fork and continue eating.
“Well, it would’ve been the best thing I ever did.” She turns around to the sink.
“You don’t even know Reed.” I lift the wine glass to my lips.
She swivels around, drying her hands on the dishtowel, then flexes them a few times before setting the towel back down. “I know people and my gut doesn’t lie. I knew Pete was bad news.”
“How do you explain Dad then?”
Her lips turn down. “I was young. My gut sense hadn’t fully matured yet. Then I had a family and back then...”
She doesn’t finish, and she doesn’t have to because she stayed with my dad because she had nowhere to go.
“May he rest in peace,” I say.
“Or in hell,” she mumbles, but I catch it.
I don’t even hold it against her. My dad put her through more than Pete did me and I loathe him like the devil.
“Enough about your father. Let’s talk about Reed.” Her eyelids flutter. “Why don’t you want to go on a date? The divorce was final two years ago.”
“It’s not the time for all that, Mom. Besides, he’s a lawyer.”
She cringes.
“Second of all, he was the best man at my wedding.” I say it in a voice that implies you’d be crazy not to understand the obvious problem with that.
“It seems to me Pete kept his friends like he did his wife—not happy and not close. You haven’t seen him since what, after Jade was born?”
“Once we left Chicago, I never saw him again. I’m not sure about Pete. It’s not like I was in the know about everything he did while we were married.” My mom nods in understanding while I walk over to the sink and rinse off my plate.
Her hand runs up and down my arm. “Give it another shot. One date isn’t going to hurt anyone. Not every guy out there is a Pete.”
“Says the woman who has been alone since Dad left, what? Nine years ago?”
“It was different with me. You’re young and...” she glances to the archway into the family room. “You have Jade. Pete’s as good of a dad as he was a husband—lousy. You should’ve seen Jade’s eyes when she was talking about Reed. She said he went into the play area and chased them around?”
I giggle thinking about it. “Until the teenage manager kicked him out.”
“See.” She points to my face.
“What?” I straighten my lips.
“You might be able to control those lips, but your eyes are transparent. Always were. And there’s life coming back into them.” She pats my shoulder. “Just think about it, Dove.”
She tries to soften me by using the nickname she used to call me when I was Jade’s age. I place my plate and silverware in the dishwasher, grab my wine glass and head to the family room.
I sit down and Jade slides over on the couch to join me. I snuggle her into me as she laughs at the gameshow on TV.
Just as I’m finally relaxing, my phone dings from my coat pocket. Jade jumps up and races over to the hook where it hangs.
“No, Jade.” I’m not dealing with anything tonight.
“It might be Daddy,” she exclaims, not listening to me. She digs into my pocket, pulls out my cell phone and her lips dip down for a second.
Of course, it’s not him. There’s probably a big case or a tight, twenty-something pussy that needs his attention.
“It’s Reed,” she says, her eyes scanning the text message.
“Jade, give it to me.” I reach forward, able to pull her back by the sleeve of her jammies. She falls into my lap and I grab the phone out of her grasp. “You’re not allowed to read my texts.”
She giggles and squirms until she’s sitting next to me. Leaning over the side of the couch, she tries to whisper to my mom. “He got tickets to a movie.”
“Oh really?” my mom asks, and I don’t dignify either one of them with an annoyed look.
Reed: I mistakenly bought 4 tickets instead of 2 for the Imax this Saturday.
Me: Sucks to be you.
Reed: Henry misses Jade.
Me: He’ll see her tomorrow.
Reed: I miss you?
Reed: Too soon?
Reed: Yeah, too soon. Thought so.
Me: You saw me two days ago.
Reed: Come on. Are you really going to make me beg here?
Me: We went over this on Monday.
Reed: I’m not asking for a date. It’s a playdate for the kids. Yoga pants optional.
I laugh and glance up to see Jade and my mom staring at me.
“Are we going?” Jade asks, trying to peek over my shoulder.
“I have school work.”
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down again.
Reed: We don’t have to sit next to each other.
Reed: I’ll let you pay.
Me: In that case...
“Please, Mom,” Jade begs next to me.
“One movie isn’t going to hurt,” my mom says while Jade looks on, pleading with her hands in a prayer pose in front of her.
Reed: I guess I’ll find someone else. Maybe Darcie’s available.
Me: Not going to work.
Reed: It was worth a try though.
Me: You’re very persistent.
Reed: My persistence got you to work on time with the best platter of danishes in the city.
He has a point but giving me a ride to work and going on a date with him are two different things.
Me: Fine. We’ll go. As a PLAYDATE. And only if I pay for lunch.
Reed: You sure you aren’t the lawyer?
The reminder of him being a lawyer makes my stomach clench.
Me: We’ll meet you at Navy Pier.
Reed: I’ll let you have that one. Movie starts at eleven thirty.
Me: See you then.
Reed: Not if I see you first.
He better not have anything else planned. I rest my phone on the seat cushion next to me.
“Are we going?” Jade asks.
I nod.
“YAY!” She jumps around the room.
“Time for bed. Say goodnight to Grandma,” I say, rising from the couch.
My mom looks at me over Jade’s shoulder, and her expression reminds me of when I graduated high school. The pride there pierces my heart because I know it’s undeserved. Even if I agreed to see Reed on the weekend, I can’t do
what she wants me to do. I can’t open my still-withered heart to Reed.
Chapter Ten
“How’s the steak?” Chelsea throws herself down into the seat in front of me.
“Stop it with the steak analogy. I’m trying to imagine him more like liver.” I finish typing an email to the company doing our favors for the gala and give her my attention.
“Maybe just gouge your eyes out so you don’t have to see him anymore?”
“I’ll have to try that. Thanks for the suggestion.” I dismiss her by looking back at my computer screen.
“Jeez, I was about to tell you about a date I went on last night.”
Now she has my attention.
“Mid-week?” She nods, and I wonder what kind of guy was worth her time during the week. Chelsea is fanatical about her schedule during the week. Every day after work, she goes to work out, heads home, makes dinner and then binge watches Netflix while she probably color codes her panty drawer.
“Yeah, but sadly I totally missed the signs.” She digs into her bag and retrieves her phone, pulling up a picture and shoving the phone in my face. “Check out his profile.”
“Whoa. Talk about steak dinner. He’s aged to perfection.”
“Yeah and he’s a model.”
“Jeez, Chels, a model?” I enlarge the picture. “His abs look like they were drawn on.” I take in the fine specimen for another second. “Don’t you find it weird that he’s not wearing a shirt?”
She grabs the phone from my clasp. “He was supposed to be on a beach.”
“Still, why would you choose that picture?”
“Vic, the lack of shirt isn’t the problem.”
I wait for her to fill me in.
“It’s the fact that when I showed up at the restaurant, this was him.” She shoves the phone back in my face where a picture of an average looking guy is on the screen, not nearly as well groomed as the previous man. I’m thankful that he’s chosen to wear a shirt to cover up his beer gut.
I purse my lips to try to stop my smile that’s tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Oh, man.”
“Yeah. He told me he thought I knew the picture was a joke because the guy is some famous model.”
“Who?”
“I Google image searched the picture and it’s a model for a sunscreen company. It’s not like we’re talking Gandy or Tyson here. How was I supposed to know?” She stares at the photo again.
“How did you handle it?” I cringe, wondering how harsh Chelsea got.
“At first, I just left, but once I got outside, I composed myself and decided that after I went to all the trouble of getting ready and taking a cab there, this guy is going to pay for me to eat at Alinea.”
“Alinea says something positive about him, don’t you think?” You’re not getting out of there for less than a few hundred dollars a plate.
She nods. “I guess. He might not have washboard abs, but he can swim in a pool of hundreds.”
“So?”
“So, nothing.” She shrugs. “He was a nice guy. Polite, listened to me ramble on about my cousin’s upcoming wedding. I even broke the cardinal rule and talked about my ex. Which was probably good because he didn’t even try to kiss me after.” She looks as confused as she sounds. “It was a weird night but I’m thinking that’s what I need.”
“To catfish someone?” I chuckle.
“No! I need to date only nice guys. Exclusively nice guys who aren’t all about themselves and how much pussy they can get.”
“You’re going to narrow it down to one flavor?”
“Yes, vanilla. But there are still variations within vanilla. You can have homemade vanilla, natural vanilla, French vanilla, vanilla bean...”
I smile while she tucks her phone back into her purse. “Don’t. You know me. I’ll probably go on two vanilla dates before I crave that chocolate covered ganache bad boy again.” She stands up. “Come on. Hannah said the car is pulling up in a few minutes.”
Just then the office phone chimes and I recognize Hannah’s cell.
I pick up the phone. “On our way down.”
Chelsea waits at the door while I pack up my stuff quickly and lock up behind us. A few minutes later, we climb into a limo to make our way up north to try and secure the gala location.
* * *
Three hours later the contract is signed and we’re on our way back to the city.
Hannah lays her head against the back of the seat. “Thank goodness that’s over.”
“Yeah, and your ex can shove it up his ass because this venue is so much better.” Leave it to Chelsea to bring up a touchy subject.
Hannah nods but doesn’t say anything. After a few minutes, she sits up and presses the button on the partition. “Jacob, can you drop us off at the corner of State and Madison?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He nods, and Hannah leaves the partition down.
“Victoria, is your mom okay to watch Jade tonight?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure when we’d get back, so I already made arrangements.”
“Great. Girls, we’re going out for happy hour tonight.” She toes out of her heels and rubs her perfectly manicured toes against one another. No surprise since she wears fuck me pumps all day every day. Those things must hurt like a bitch.
“Don’t worry, Hannah, I’m free.”
Hannah glances to her side at Chelsea with a smile teasing her lips. “We both know you have your weeknight ritual and you didn’t already have plans. Besides, there will be guys where we’re going, and they’ll be rich.”
Chelsea pretends to rub her hands together and then drops them unexpectedly. “Rich doesn’t always mean hot.”
“Rich guys are their own breed of bad but not in the way you like them.” Hannah winks at her with a smile. “I want girl’s time anyway. We need to unwind. We’ve never been out together socially before.”
The idea is great, I love both the ladies I work with and a little adult time with the girls sounds perfect.
A while later the limo pulls up to the curb, stops and we step out. There’s no bar in sight.
Once the limo pulls away, Hannah slides in between us and links both her arms through ours and we walk in the opposite direction like Laverne and Shirley with a sidekick. A few seconds later she leads us down an alley.
“Not really in the mood to get mugged tonight.” Chelsea slows her steps which makes all of us slow down.
“There are cameras watching the alley and there’s always someone’s watching those cameras.” She pulls us farther down the alleyway. “This is the safest alley you’ve ever been down.”
When we reach a plain looking, worn black door she unhooks herself from us and knocks four times. I wait for the small window section to slide across, so someone can peer down at us and ask us the password, but disappointedly, that doesn’t happen. Movies make everything look so cool.
Instead, a large man with a barrel chest opens the door from the other side. “Ms. Crowley,” he says to Hannah.
“How are you doing tonight, Sam?”
He nods. “Haven’t seen you awhile. I was worried.”
Hannah shakes her head like she understands his line of thinking. “Uh uh. Never. I got this in the divorce.” She winks.
He tips his head and smiles.
“These are my two friends.” she turns and gestures to where we stand behind her. “Victoria and Chelsea.”
He nods. “Pleasure ladies. And I have to tell you this…don’t go telling anyone about this place, otherwise you’ll see this face on the other side of your door at home.”
“Point taken,” I say, wondering what kind of place Hannah’s bringing us to.
“Oh, and you can’t get in here without her.” He points to Hannah.
Chelsea slaps him on the shoulder. “No worries big guy.”
Sam looks over to Hannah and she giggles. Only Chelsea would do that to someone as physically imposing as this man. We enter and step through another door. The sound of clinking of glass
es and chatter makes me more comfortable about our surroundings. At least I know Hannah didn’t draw us to this place to have us murdered.
We enter the bar area and are met with dark wood-paneled walls with a matching bar. The far wall is lined with red velvet booths while small pedestal tables are strategically placed around the room with fabric backed chairs.
“Did we just warp back to the forties?” Chelsea asks.
“I love it,” I say.
Hannah swings her arm through mine. “This place is called Torrios Table because Torrio—”
“Was the one who got Capone into the mob,” I finish for her.
“Yep. See how smart you are? Once you get that degree you’re going to leave me.” She pretends to pout, and I smile in return. I’ve never seen this fun side of her before.
“Let me get my degree first then we can worry about what I’m doing. As it is I’m the oldest person ever enrolled in college.”
She leads us to one of the booths and slides herself in until she’s in the middle, so Chelsea and I take a spot on either side of her.
“No, you’re not, and just think of all the younger men you have at your disposal this time around.” She grins.
“You want her to go cub hunting?” Chelsea picks up and glances over a small menu on the table.
“I’m not old enough to be a cougar.” I lower my voice. “The thought of dating a younger guy who knows nothing about women, does nothing for me. He wouldn’t even know his way around a woman’s vagina, let alone how to get me off.”
Chelsea raises her hand in the air as if to signal ‘victory!’
“I knew you were just being nice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I lean forward and smack one of her hands down from across the table.
“It means…I knew there was a smart-ass hidden in there.”
Hannah smiles. “I agree with Victoria. Next go around I want a man who can take care of my needs. That knows his way around a woman’s body as well as he does the sports channels on television.”
We all nod in agreement.
“And I don’t care how many partners he’s had because I say the more women, the more skills he learned from them. As long as he can be faithful, we’d be good.” Hannah raises her hand to get the waiter’s attention although I’m certain he noticed her when she came in. Hannah is hard not to notice.