Prude

by Hilaria Alexander

  There’s a little Q&A, and the three of us joke with each other and the readers.

  Rebecca and Anya both have irresistible, bubbly southern personalities, while I’m a little more reserved. When we start signing books, it’s evident maybe ninety percent of the people are here for the two of them. I’m disappointed, but I try not to show it. I don’t want to ruin this for my friends. The publisher flew them all the way out here because they are so popular and their readers are delighted to see them. Thankfully, I do have some fans of my own showing up. The rest of the time I try to just sit here and hope I have mastered the perfect smile for awkward situations.

  Chapter 2

  A COUPLE of hours later we are finally done. We grab our things and take pictures with the readers who stayed. I go use the restroom and when I come out, I hear commotion and laughter. Rebecca and Anya, along with some other women, are surrounding a guy.

  I hear his voice and . . . Oh no. I don’t need to see his face to know who he is. And by looking at his back now, I know for certain that’s it’s him. As a matter of fact, one of the last times I saw him I completely embarrassed myself.

  He is not in a suit, but in shorts and an untucked chambray shirt. His long blonde hair is tucked in a little knot at the nape of his neck. He looks like he just came from the beach. I approach the group of women slowly. If I could get away with it, I would rather walk out of here unnoticed than have to see him.

  Rebecca spots me and says rather excitedly, “There she is!”

  There she is? Were they talking about me? He turns around and his face breaks into a smile when he sees me. This is . . . unexpected. Why would Ben Hallstrom be happy to see me?

  “Prudence! I was looking for you!”

  “Hey Ben,” I say sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He looks good, even better than I remember. He has a light tan that makes his blue eyes stand out even more. He is sporting a short beard which, when paired with his casual attire, makes him look more like a slacker than a successful book agent.

  “I need to talk to you,” he says, lowering his voice and getting closer to me, like he’s got a secret to tell. “In private.” He turns around and says, “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.” He waves at them and grabs my arm, guiding me a few steps away from the group of women.

  “Ben, what’s going on?” For a moment I think this has something to do with James, and then I remember he cut ties with Ben too.

  “I heard you and the girls were going to be in town, so I decided to stop by.”

  “Stop by?” I ask, surprised. It’s not like the Hamptons is right around the corner; it’s three hours away from New York City.

  “Yeah, I used to live here, and my mother still does. I come here almost every weekend so I can surf and spend some time with her.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say, dumbfounded. I had no idea. That’s how little I know him, even though we were in the same year and had a couple classes together at NYU.

  “So, I was wondering, would you like to go to dinner?” he asks.

  I zone out for a second, replaying his question in my head. I don't think I heard him correctly.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Dinner. Tonight? Let’s say about eight? I can come pick you up at the hotel.”

  “Hmmm, why?” I ask, perplexed.

  He laughs and places a hand on the back of his head, tugging on his hair knot. He looks nervous. I made him nervous. This is getting interesting. Who knew I could make Ben Hallstrom nervous?

  “Well, why not? Don’t you need to eat?” he says, smiling awkwardly. That makes me smile too, and I bite my lip.

  He is not used to having to ask twice. I have seen him in action enough to know how it goes. When he asks a girl out, she’ll usually say yes. No one can resist his charm, and apparently that’s one of the reasons why he is so successful. They say he got where he is by befriending the right people and sleeping around. There are lots of rumors, and I happen to know a few of his conquests. I’ve heard he doesn’t like anything too serious, just casual stuff. He also seems to be good friends with Mr. Hunter, the owner of Biblio. Of course, I’ve also heard the rumor that they are lovers, but I think it stems from envy and not actual evidence. Mr. Hunter is a bit of a loner. Whenever I see him at some type of event, he seems to be pretty distant with everybody, but he’s always been very friendly with Ben, at least, the few times I’ve seen the two of them interact.

  “I need to talk to you. Can’t you agree to have just one meal with me?” he says, acting irritated by my refusal.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Ben.”

  He stands still, thinking about my answer, brows furrowed. No, he is definitely not used to people telling him no.

  “You aren't still mad at me because of James, right?”

  “No, of course not. I told you I was wasted that night, right? I don't blame you for anything that happened with him. That is, to this day, one of the most embarrassing nights of my life.”

  He chuckles.

  It’s been nearly two years, and I still feel so incredibly stupid about that. I had completely made a fool of myself all because of my idiot ex-boyfriend. Although I had apologized to Ben profusely afterwards—via email, because I was too chicken to talk to him face-to-face—his comment makes me believe he thought I was still mad at him.

  “Come on, Prudence. Come to dinner with me. What have you got to lose?”

  I want to tell him that I plan to make sweet love to the king-size pillow top mattress in my hotel room, but I refrain from that. I stare at him for a few seconds, trying to come up with a more credible excuse, which is hard to do without getting lost in those blue eyes.

  Rebecca, who hasn’t been too far away from the whole conversation, pushes me, not so gently, towards him. “She'll come to dinner.”

  I turn and look at her in disbelief, and she gives me a nod, with a look that says, just go!

  We aren’t subtle during this whole exchange, and he says, “Seriously? I have never had to beg so much to get a girl to come to dinner with me!”

  I bet you haven’t, I want to say.

  He looks slightly annoyed, but I see a small smile starting to spread across his face. That makes me smile too, and I relax a little.

  “Ben, it's not personal. I just don't like changing plans. I was dead set on not doing much of anything tonight and getting acquainted with the king-size mattress in my room, that's all. And I was planning on a night of shenanigans with those two crazy ladies over there,” I say, gesturing towards the two nutbags behind me.

  Yes, I know, I’m charming the pants off him. A handsome guy stands in front of me and I can only make loser small talk. I try to fix it, but I only make it worse. “But, you know, all things considered, it would immensely help my obviously rusty social skills if we did go out to dinner and I could have an actual conversation with someone other than my cat or the TV for once. Please stop me before I embarrass myself any further,” I add, lowering my eyes.

  When I look back at him, I see an amused smile on his face.

  “I'll pick you up in an hour,” he says, turning around to leave as he waves to Rebecca and Anya. My eyes follow him as he leaves the bookstore, and I watch him walk away through the store's windows.

  What just happened? Did I really just agree to go out with him? What could this be about? Has he heard the news about me parting ways with Biblio? Already? It's only been a few days. One thing Ben has always been good at is intercepting gossip. He always has the latest scoop, knows which authors are looking for a new agent, and who out there will be the next to make the bestseller’s list. The thing is, people—and by people, I mean women—tend to open up and give him all the information he wants. He is damn charming and smooth as hell. Women just love to blabber when he is around, and I’m just now realizing I was acting like such a nerd in front of him. Plus, I just agreed to have dinner with him. Dammit. I can’t cancel, because for one, I don’t even think I have his number. And two, I don’t
think those two crazy chicks are going to let me live if I try to cancel.

  The ladies and I go back to our adjacent hotel rooms. They change and get ready to go out to dinner, and I freshen up as well. I redo my make-up and amp it up a little bit, applying some red lipstick. I don’t change my dress; I don’t want to give him the idea that I put much effort in going out with him. Besides, this dress works pretty well anyway. It’s dressy without being too much. Those two want to jet out of the door before he picks me up and I stop them, plastering myself against the room’s door.

  “You are not walking out on me! What if he doesn’t show up?”

  “Oh, Prudence, come on! Why would he not show up? He asked you out!’

  “I’m just saying, I have known this guy for about ten years, why would he ask me out now?”

  They don’t have time to answer, because someone knocks on the door.

  “Anya, did you have to give him the room number? Couldn't he just have the front desk call?” I whisper as quietly as I can. Anya shrugs like she didn't do anything wrong and just winks at me.

  I open the door and there he is, wearing a white long-sleeved button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of dark-wash blue jeans. I’m so used to seeing him in a suit that he almost looks like a different person. His hands are tucked in his pockets and he flashes smiles at me.

  “Hey. Are you ready to go?”

  I’m still a little stunned by the absurdity of this situation. I nod and say, “Yeah, I guess I am. Let’s go.”

  “Well don’t look so excited. Ladies, I’ll have her back by midnight so you can party all night!” he says, waving at Rebecca and Anya, who are peeking from the doorway like a couple of moms. We take the elevator but don’t say a word to each other the entire way down. I catch him staring at me, and he quickly looks away. A moment later, he catches me doing the exact same thing. When we step out of the hotel, he places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me outside.

  “This way. Let’s take my car.” There are restaurants all around the hotel where we are staying, so why do we need to go somewhere else?

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to a restaurant in Montauk. The view is spectacular. Too bad we are going to miss the sunset though.”

  I’ve had just about enough of this. It might be true that I don’t really know Ben, but this doesn’t even sound like something that would come out of his mouth. As soon as we get in the car, I can’t hold back the words.

  “Okay, really, what’s going on? Why all at sudden do you track me down and insist we go out for dinner to a romantic place by the ocean?”

  He shakes his head and smiles.

  “First off, I never said this place is romantic. It might be a shack on the beach where there’s an amazing view. Second, I already knew all three of you were going to be in town. I talked to Anya a few days ago and told her I was thinking of stopping by. Maybe you forgot that Anya is my client.”

  Shit, he is right.

  “But then, why are we not all going out to dinner?”

  He sighs. “I was getting there.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Like I said, I talked to Anya about all of us going out to dinner, but then this week something else happened. Which brings us to point three. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?” I say, pretending I don’t know what he’s hinting at. I knew that he knew already, son of a gun.

  “What happened with Cora at Biblio, Prudence?”

  “What have you heard?” I ask defensively, narrowing my eyes. “You probably know all about it anyway. Why are you asking me the details? I’m sure you must have heard everything first hand.”

  “Not quite. Everyone is either being tight-lipped, or they really don’t know, which is why I’m asking you. All I heard is that you and Cora had a disagreement and you walked out on her. People in the office say they saw you arguing.”

  “See, you do have good informants, I knew it! What do you do to get them to open up?”

  “Easy. I usually just show up with Starbucks,” he says, smiling. “Cora has been telling people she had notes for you on a new manuscript and you didn’t take it well. Is that true?”

  I shake my head no. “It’s true that we argued, but what you heard isn’t entirely accurate. I hadn’t given her a new manuscript, so there were no notes. She had some suggestions on my writing though.”

  “What kind of suggestions?”

  “She wanted me to switch genres, mainly. She wanted me to transition into new adult. At least, that’s what I got from it. Or maybe she just wanted me to spice up my stories. The whole conversation was just so odd. I’m still not quite sure what happened.”

  It’s a good thing the inside of the car is dark, because I’m getting a little flustered revisiting the events of this week. I’m angry and embarrassed all at the same time.

  Ben is quiet and keeps his eyes on the road. I can’t read his expression because I can’t quite see his face.

  “Actually, that’s not all. She said that my writing is too safe. That it’s not hot enough. She said that even young adult nowadays should be a little more daring, and mine is not. She said people say I write like a prude.”

  He bursts out laughing and I’m a little taken aback.

  “And you had to sit through that load of crap? No wonder you walked out on her! Good for you!” he says rather enthusiastically. “I would have done the same thing. Maybe I could pay somebody to get the security footage, just so I can see Cora’s face.”

  I chuckle, but I can’t help being a little surprised by this revelation. I thought he and Cora were friendly, but from what he just said, it sounds like he can't stand her. He looks at me for a brief moment, then his eyes go back to the road.

  “I hope you didn’t believe anything she said. You know you’re a good writer, right?”

  “Well . . . yes and no . . . whatever she said was enough to make me second-guess myself.”

  “Don’t do that. Anyway, this brings us to point four, which I’ll explain in a moment. You and Biblio might be done, but I’m here to help.”

  I’m distracted and confused by his words, and it takes me a moment to realize we made it to our destination.

  He turns the engine off.“Here we are,” he says and steps out of the car.

  Chapter 3

  I HAVE known Ben since my third year at NYU. He was the kind of guy to enter a room and immediately get everyone’s attention. He was everyone’s buddy, and every girl wanted to be his girlfriend. I might have had, just for a few months, a stupid Felicity/Ben crush on him. A crush that went unaddressed, thank God.

  We were in a couple of classes together and he didn’t even know I existed. I wasn’t exactly a wallflower in college; I had many friends and a couple of paramours, but I definitely did not have his attention. I think the main reason was that I didn’t fall in the category of the unbelievably beautiful, artsy, complicated crazy girl. You know the one I’m talking about? The gorgeous girl who is oh-so-different, but who will also drive you crazy with her behavior and will not hesitate to toy with a boy’s heart. I hated those kinds of girls, and still do.

  Anyway, we never really spent any time together, even as friends. After college, we seemed to gravitate toward similar careers and ended up having more mutual friends than when we were in school. He worked at Biblio for a year or so, then a couple of other places, and later on he became a book agent, while I became a writer. So for the last eight years, we have been around each other mainly during work-related events.

  A little over two years ago, I got completely plastered at a party and lashed out at him. My loser ex-boyfriend and I had just broken up, and in my drunken stupor, I accused Ben of causing it.

  James, my ex-boyfriend, had been an unsuccessful writer for years. He was a talented, promising writer, but never seemed to get his big break. He had published a charming first novel, and was soon after dumped by his publishing company. I
was twenty-four when we met, and at first, we seemed to be so good together. We had many common interests, and we were both writers. Less than a year after we started dating, we moved in together while he was finishing his second novel, then a year later he completed it.

  He submitted it to several publishers, and they all rejected it. It wasn’t an easy time for him, and it wasn’t a good time for us as a couple. His ego was wounded, and he was starting to resent me and my career of writing silly kids’ books, as he called them. Then Ben came into the picture, and soon after he had a book deal. By the time the book got published, we had been together for three years. I thought that his career taking off meant a brighter future for us together. Yes, I know, I was naïve. I had already made the number one relationship mistake: staying in a relationship with a man who was belittling my career. Was I really in love, or just starved to be loved at all? I’m still not sure, but I did love his writing and ideas.

  I probably should have seen the breakup coming, but I didn’t.

  The months following the release of James’ book, The Greenhouse, were a whirlwind.

  The publishing company Ben got James to sign with was pushing for a lot of networking, press, and parties. It reached number one on The New York Times Bestsellers list. Magazines, websites, and social media sites were talking about him. Suddenly, everyone wanted a piece of him. Soon after, it became evident James was not craving any attention from me. He went on press tours, and even when he was in New York, started going to social events on his own. I had thought of breaking it off, but I felt I had invested so much in our relationship, I wasn’t going to throw it away. I came home from the gym one day and he was packing up all of his belongings. He said all the things I had tried to avoid saying for so long. We were growing apart, it wasn’t working. He also said he wanted to be on his own. This was his moment, and he wanted to enjoy it.