The Flirtation

by Kayley Loring

  “Oh shut up, it’s boring. I’m hardly ever here.”

  “Where does Mr. Potter live?” His eyes were closed.

  “Who?”

  He opened one eye. “I think I should meet him.” He was grinning.

  “Absolutely not!” I smacked his leg.

  “I think it’s only proper if I meet your other boyfriend…I mean.”

  Other boyfriend?

  He blushed. “I mean, I assume you’re still on speaking terms with him.”

  “Yes, but it’s none of his business who I’m spending my time with now. It’s important to have boundaries with exes.”

  “So you don’t expect to be intimate with him again?”

  “Well…never say never.”

  “At least let me see it!” He sat up, like a sleepy little boy demanding a bedtime story.

  I pushed him back down. Fortunately the pizza delivery man had arrived, so I could change the subject.

  We sat on the floor around my coffee table, eating pizza. He was so tired that it seemed like me ordering pizza so we could stay in was just good manners instead of laziness. It also sort of felt like we’d been dating for a year, but I tried not to think about that. I asked him if there was good pizza in London.

  “I know a place you’d like.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. When you’re there. New York-style. Thin slice. You’ve been to London, yes?”

  “Yes, but just one time a year and a half ago, when I was looking at country houses for one of our actress clients who was obsessed with Jude Law in The Holiday. I spent two days being driven around by a realtor named Agnes and it rained the whole time.”

  “Did you find a country house for your client?”

  “There was nothing within her budget, so I had a DVD of Cold Mountain sent to her and recommended a summer home in North Carolina.”

  “My goodness, you are good at your job. I hope you have a better time in London the next time you visit.”

  “So do I. I really want to ride on top of one of those double decker tour buses.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “You do?”

  I nodded. It was something my mother had once talked about wanting to do. Unfortunately, she never made it off the North American continent.

  “You are full of surprises. I’ve never done that.”

  “Maybe you’ll go with me.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.” He polished off his slice of pizza and wiped his fingers. “Now will you introduce me to Mr. Potter?”

  I shook my head. “What about you? Do you have any significant lady friends that I should know about?”

  He didn’t look away, he just smiled and held my gaze. “I don’t. There hasn’t been anything serious for quite some time.”

  “Just ladies you’ve been out with a few times?”

  “Indeed, yes.”

  “And how does that work, exactly? Do you go out with them a few times and then decide it’s not a match and part ways, amicably? Do you leave it open-ended?”

  “It’s always amicable. On my part, anyway.”

  “Is that so. How nice. And these amicable women, are they from your neighborhood? Do you meet them through work, or?”

  “Oh no, I’d never date a woman that I knew through work.” He was grinning.

  “Smart man.”

  “What is it exactly that you’d like to know, Avery?”

  “Only wondering how a busy man such as yourself manages to juggle his work and social life with such…je ne sais quoi.”

  He studied my face for a minute, then took my hand. “Look, if you’re wondering whether or not I’m a bachelor—I am. If you’re wondering whether or not there’s someone special waiting for me back in London—there is not. You and I are not so unlike, believe it or not. I am very much work-focused. I must admit I’ve only been dating women who don’t live in England lately, so there would be an easy excuse for the relationship not working out.”

  My heart sank. “Oh.”

  He suddenly realized I wasn’t from England. “But that’s not what this is!”

  “No, I know, it’s not even a relationship.”

  “That’s not what I meant, I mean I’m not hoping that it won’t work out with you.”

  “You know what we don’t have to talk about it it’s fine.”

  “Avery.”

  “No really, I totally get it. That’s a brilliant strategy. You go out of town for your little mini-breaks or whatever you call it, with your out of town lady friends and then you go home to work during the week. Cut and dry, black and white. Very smart.”

  “It really is different with you.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Sorry, I know that sounds like a line. Please believe me.”

  “I don’t want to ruin things by talking about it—let’s just—hey you want to meet Mr. Potter?!”

  In an attempt to evade a discussion regarding the future of our relationship, I brought out the Magic Wand. I had only intended to hold it up so Luke could see what it looked like, but Luke had something else in mind…I almost passed out…From laughing so hard.

  I unplugged Mr. Potter, hid him in the back of my closet, and was about to let Luke give me an orgasm the old-fashioned way when I realized I’d left my laptop at the office. I’d never been without my laptop before. It was like losing a limb. A limb that contained all of my most important documents and contact information for our wealthy clients.

  I had only been sleeping with Luke for a few days and I’d already lost my mind.

  I was so panicked I couldn’t form sentences. “Nuh! Laptop…office! Ommigod.” I jumped up and ran around like a maniac, putting on my heavy coat, my snow boots. It was still snowing. I was trying to decide if I should order a car or take the subway. “Can’t…you stay. Sleep. I go.”

  “You left your laptop at the office? God. I’ll go with you.”

  “No! You stay and sleep! I’ll order a car, I’ll be like half an hour.”

  “Of course I’m coming with you. I’m fine. I feel rejuvenated in your presence. I’m positively buzzing with energy, just like Mr. Potter.”

  “Oh no you didn’t.”

  He took my hand. “Oh yes, darling. I did.” He pulled on his coat, wrapped his beautiful grey cashmere scarf around his neck and suddenly I didn’t feel panicky anymore.

  The city was quiet and blanketed in snow and I walked my favorite route to my office hand-in-hand with Luke, because he wanted to walk around town with me. It was romantic and cold, but cozy too—like sharing a hot fudge sundae with your sweetheart. I was so happy and it was easy to imagine what it would be like if he lived there, but it made me nervous to even allow my brain to form those images. Luke always seemed to notice when I was starting to tense up. He’d squeeze my hand, wordlessly reassuring me that all was well.

  He was even more excited to see my office than he was to meet Mr. Potter. He said he’d imagined what it might look like, having only ever seen the scene behind my desktop computer. When he saw my sofa, his eyebrow raised. He removed his coat and scarf, removed mine, put his cold hands under my sweater, and said he would do all the things he’d fantasized about doing to me on my office sofa…after he had a quick nap. He could barely see straight, the poor chap. We both managed to lay down on the sofa—spooning.

  It was around four-thirty in the morning when we were awoken by Magda the cleaning lady. She had turned on the overhead light and gasped. “Oh thank God! Yes! Thank God!”

  We were not naked—we had much more than a quick nap. There was nap drool involved. Fortunately, I was able to wipe it away before Luke could see my face. Regardless, I think Magda was even happier to see me with a man than my sister would be.

  “This is what I have wanted for you, Avery Davis! Yes. This is good. Hello. I leave now, sorry to wake.”

  “No no, it’s very good that you’ve woken us, thank you.” Luke’s voice was gravelly from sleep, but still somehow delicious. He stood up, ran his fingers through his hair
while walking towards Magda, and held out his hand. “Hullo, I’m Luke Mason. Avery and I work together.”

  “Ohhhh.” Magda giggled. “I see, okay. Hello, yes, good.”

  “Luke, this is my friend Magda. Luke is just in town for a couple of days.”

  “Oh? You are English?”

  “Yes. I live in London.”

  “London?....Ohhhhhh!” I could see her remembering that I’d mentioned being at the office to Skype with London. I could see her understanding why I was so excited about it, and I could see that Magda was about to ask Luke to marry me.

  I jumped up, put my hands on Magda’s shoulders, and gently ushered her out of the room. “Hey Magda, we actually have some more business to discuss, so…”

  “Happy Valentines Day, Magda!” Luke called out. What a suck-up.

  She clutched her chest and gave me the thumbs up as I shut the door in her sweet hopeful face.

  Chapter 17

  Luke

  After Magda left the room, I turned to Avery and said: “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.”

  She laughed, harder than I’d ever seen her laugh before. She said that I’d just given her and Magda the best Valentine’s gift either of them had gotten in a long time. I’d a feeling that Magda was some sort of maternal figure for her. She picked up her laptop and looked around her office. “I’ve never slept here with someone else before.”

  “I’m pleased to have been your first. Sorry we didn’t get to do more than sleep.”

  “Yeah, well. Another time. We should head back to my place now so you can shower. When’s your first meeting?”

  “Ten o’clock. Plenty of time to change and go for a run before we shower.”

  “Please tell me your joking. It’s like a thousand below zero out. You’ll get icicles in your nostrils.”

  “I run every morning. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. It’ll just be me and the supermodels jogging around the park, I imagine.”

  She came running with me. Neither of us in fact produced icicles in our nostrils, but we could see our breath, especially when Avery was panting and yelling and cursing at me to slow down or stop. We only ran about a mile before heading back to her flat, but I gave her top marks for effort.

  The steamy shower for two was a reward for both of us. We had to get breakfast at the nearby Starbucks because all she had in her fridge was some limp organic kale and moldy yogurt, though she assured me that she was an excellent cook and enjoyed preparing healthy meals at home. We must have kissed each other about twenty times before finally parting ways at the subway station. I wasn’t usually one for public displays of affection, but for some reason my lips just did not want to leave hers. As I was purchasing my train tickets, I received a text message from her telling me that she missed me already. I responded with an emoticon. An emoticon! I don’t do emoticons. What is happening to me? I could easily see what day-to-day life with Avery would be like if I lived here. It could be blissful. I kept waiting for it to scare me, but I just felt good.

  Just as I’d reached the downtown office building for my morning meeting, Avery rang to thank me for the stunning bouquet of flowers I’d had sent to her. For a moment I’d forgotten that I’d arranged to have flowers sent to her while we were still at the villa. It was during the same post-sex haze wherein I had arranged our island outing. I was spoiling her.

  In my line of work, it’s important to define a “desired end state” when executing a merger. What was my desired end state with Avery? Was I really okay with simply enjoying this fling with her? A fling that would end as soon as I returned to London? Was I willing to be in an exclusive long-term long-distance relationship with her? Would I ultimately be willing to move to New York to be with her? Or did I want her to give up everything to come to London to be with me?

  Before I stepped into the lift, my personal phone vibrated. I was expecting another text from Avery, but it was from Chiara. She wrote to thank me for the flowers, but stressed that she was still angry with me. I had also forgotten that I’d arranged to have Valentine’s Day flowers sent to Chiara before the Bahamas trip came up. “Thinking of you,” the note was supposed to say.

  I did not respond. I deleted the message. I had no reason to feel guilty about it since it had been arranged before I got together with Avery, but since I’d be staying in her flat again that night, it seemed risky to have a message like that on my phone. Not that Avery seemed like the sort of woman who’d go through a man’s phone—although none of my lovely sisters seem the sort either and I know for a fact that they have all tried to hack into their boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or husband’s email accounts at one time or another.

  I was glad I had back-to-back meetings scheduled for the rest of the day so I was too busy to think about any of that stuff. When I got back to Avery’s, she had her small dining table set up with candles and fine china, which she admitted was on loan from her client’s restaurant. She had re-heated the lobster bisque and warm steak salads in the takeout containers, in the microwave, because she only had one pan and she had used that to heat up the salmon entrees. Most of the salmon had stuck to the pan because, but I assured her that it would be delicious if we ate it directly from the pan and scraped off the charred bits, and I was right. It was delicious.

  We didn’t end up eating at the dining table; we sat on the floor by her coffee table again.

  She kept checking her phone.

  “How was work today?”

  “Fine, I mean. I hate having to play catch-up. I’ve never been away from the office for so long, it’s weird. I’m out of sync, I don’t have my usual rhythm.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” I did. I was getting antsy myself, but my desire to enjoy my last full day with Avery trumped my neurosis.

  “Sylvia handled everything while I was gone, she’s great, but I need to know everything that’s going on and I don’t feel like I have my land legs back yet. Is that the term?”

  I put my hand on her thigh. “Whatever these are, I’m very fond of them.”

  She guffawed, and then checked her phone again.

  “Are you expecting a Valentine’s Day call from Mr. Potter? I doubt he gets very good cell phone reception in the back of the closet. Shall we bring him out?”

  “No! I haven’t heard back from my sister yet, it’s weird. I texted her yesterday and called her today. I’m sure she’s busy with the kids—it’s fine. How’s your New York trip so far?”

  “Dazzling. How are you enjoying my New York trip so far?”

  “I’m tolerating it.” She smiled.

  “Glad to hear it. I look forward to returning the favor when you’re in London.”

  She took a deep breath before saying, “I look forward to that as well.” She seemed very tense all of a sudden.

  I thought things were going so well. I couldn’t quite figure this woman out. “It will be like Notting Hill except I’m better looking and more charming and masculine than Hugh Grant and you’re more beautiful and glamorous than Julia Roberts and infinitely funnier.”

  “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen that one.”

  “Intelligent decision. It’s rubbish. I should have said it’ll be like Four Weddings and a Funeral only with three fewer weddings and one less funeral. Hopefully. Well, two fewer weddings if we go to Bucket and Ingrid’s next wedding. You’re planning on attending, yes?”

  “Um. Yes. I mean, if they actually send an invitation. You?”

  “Fer sure. If they actually send an invitation…So you have nothing against weddings, but you refuse to watch romantic comedy films?”

  “Well. I’ll go to a wedding if I’m invited, of course, but I’m not crazy about weddings. I haven’t watched romantic comedies since my father left, because romantic comedies are a lie. They’re manipulative and they set up false expectations.”

  I laughed. “Of course they do, but that’s no reason not to watch them. If you don’t watch rom coms, the terrorists win.” Does that mea
n you have no intention of getting married?

  I made her watch Love Actually right then and there. I purchased it from iTunes and we watched it on my laptop. She agreed to watch it solely because of Emma Thompson and Colin Firth. By the end of it, she was trying so hard not to cry, and she was furious because she felt so manipulated.

  “I will not cry. I will not let a romantic comedy beat me. I will not let life beat me. It’s just a stupid voiceover and people hugging at airports in slow motion who cares! Why did I have to watch an entire movie just to see that?!”

  I wanted to make her watch Sense and Sensibility, because I knew she’d love it and apparently I couldn’t avoid thinking about Hugh Grant movies when I was with her, but her phone rang. It was her sister, so she took the call.

  Chapter 18

  Avery

  I hung up the phone with my sister, and said: “My nephew broke his arm. He’s home from the hospital, but I have to go to Queens.” I started running around my apartment, putting on my boots and big puffy coat.

  “Oh no that’s awful. What happened?”

  “He was inner tubing down a hill in the snow and he smashed into a tree. He has a cast. This all happened yesterday and they didn’t tell me.”

  “Oh no. Inner tubing?”

  “Yes. He was using an inner tube, like as a sled. I got it for him, for Christmas. I also got him a helmet. I can’t believe he broke his little arm. Poor guy! It’s all my fault. I can’t believe they didn’t call me as soon as it happened!”

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I broke my arm when I was a boy, it happens to most of us at some time or other. Children’s bones heal rather quickly, you know. How old is he? What’s his name?”

  “Jackson. He’s seven.”

  “Okay. And what’s an inner tube?”

  I made an exasperated sound. “It’s a thing—a big rubber donut, you’re supposed to float in it, like in a river or a lake, but you can also ride down a hill in one when it snows.”

  “Got it. Well, let’s go see Jackson. Do we take a taxi?”