“Oh, yeah?” Mel asked. She sounded excited. “Please. Do tell.”
“I can’t really talk right now, Mel.” I made myself sound apologetic. “I have a date tonight. I’m trying to get ready. You know, it’s been so long since I had a nice dinner date. And I’m supposed to find the place we’re going! I don’t know what to do!”
“Oh. He put you in charge, huh? Is this the same guy? The guy who thinks I’m your assistant?”
I murmured a brief “Yes” into the phone.
“Ah, well. How exciting. He was sexy, no? Anyway. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come over for dinner with me and the boys.”
“The boys? Your husband and your baby?” I asked, laughing.
“Who else? And have you ever seen anyone more handsome?” At this point, I could tell that she was talking directly to her baby, cooing at him. I smiled, in spite of myself. “Seriously. Maybe this would be a good time for me to meet this guy. Drew, yeah?”
I thought for a moment. I certainly didn’t have any real plans for us for the rest of the evening. I pictured us whiling away at some dumb restaurant, unable to find anything to talk about—especially in the wake of such excitement the previous day. “You know. That isn’t such a bad idea,” I murmured. I still stood naked in the kitchen considering this.
“I’ll make your favorite. Spinach lasagna sound good? You know my husband’s Italian.” Already, I could hear Mel in the background, bumbling around her kitchen, pulling out pots and pans.
“Don’t work too hard,” I said, laughing languidly. I supposed it was time that I brought Drew into a small piece of my life. He had said, after all, that he wanted to know me; he wanted to understand who I was. He could make his own opinion of me. Then, he could decide on what terms he wanted to leave me.
I shivered. Mel and I decided on a time; seven-thirty, after Drew and I were able to meet up and head over, via the train (“or his Porsche!” as Mel had called out), and arrive at her apartment, positioned closer to the water. I hardly went to Mel’s apartment. I felt strange, surrounded by her perfect family and her rather quiet, rather secretive husband. Sure, her husband was attractive, sturdy. He did something that made them all quite a bit of money. But Mel—my darling good friend, only twenty-eight years old—had given up her dance career for him. Although she had always said she wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway, that there wasn’t really hope for her, I always wondered if she regretted it. And the undercurrent of regret I generally felt at their apartment was almost too much. It was like the smell of baby formula; rancid but a little sweet as well. It lingered on clothes.
I dressed myself in one of my favorite green dresses. The green always matched my eyes so well. It wrapped around my slim waistline and pulled around my breasts in such a splendid way. I brushed through my hair, then curled it a bit to give it a feminine flair. It was already six-thirty, and Drew would be here in just thirty minutes. I had to look perfect.
Finally, I sat back on my couch, glaring at the shine of the wooden door. I imagined Drew down the hallway—at his own apartment—preparing himself for our date. I imagined him splashing cologne on his neck, on his chest. I imagined him humming as he proceeded through his many steps. He lived such a glamorous, well-formed existence, so unlike my own—in which I rushed around, unable to afford anything, wearing the same dress I bought three years ago at a vintage shop in college.
But it didn’t matter anymore. It couldn’t.
I heard his sturdy footfalls outside the door, and I clung to my knees. Boomer bounced down from my lap and sauntered toward the door, ready to greet whoever arrived. He was so unused to guests, and he was wrapped up in the excitement that seemed to emanate through the room. His knuckles collapsed into the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
I touched my hair briefly before opening the door and tipping my hips to the left. I greeted Drew with bright eyes. “Hey,” I whispered.
He looked quite dapper. He was wearing a black shirt and a stunning purple tie. His smile nearly smirked at me before giving way to something deeper, something sincere. “Hey,” he said. He looked at me earnestly before clearing his throat. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, looking down at my tight dress.
“Have you decided what you want to do this evening?” Drew asked after a long pause. “It is your turn, after all.”
“And we’re a democracy, something like that?” I said it playfully.
He nodded. His chin was pointed, sturdy.
“All right, then. You’re going to meet my closest friend. My assistant. And her baby, Jackson. And her husband.” I smiled at him with assurance as his eyed grew dark for a moment. “Don’t worry about them. They’re fine. They just—they don’t get out much. And I promised I’d head over there tonight. Afterwards, we can grab a drink somewhere in Old Town?”
Drew nodded, placing one of his wide hands on his chest. “That sounds nice, actually. It’s been a long time since I had some semblance of a family dinner.”
I laughed, walking out the door and locking my room behind me. “You know. It’s been quite a while for me, as well. I never considered myself a ‘family girl,’ I suppose.”
“There’s not a lot I know about you, is there?” Drew asked me, placing his arm out beside me. I accepted his elbow as we walked toward the steps. “I don’t know what you do, how you do anything. I don’t know what you did today. I can’t even imagine it.”
I didn’t say anything as we walked down the steps. My heart nearly burst as we exited the front door and found the Porsche out front once more; ready to pounce into the Chicago night. I looked up at him with bright eyes.
“You know. You just looked so good in it last night. I had to bring it tonight,” he murmured, leaning down and kissing me directly on the cheek. I felt his large, supple lips as they bounced off me lightly.
We rushed across the city toward the lake. I watched out the window without speaking, noting the way each car rushed by us, on the way to other dinners, other drinks, other dates. I turned toward Drew as he focused, concentrating on the road with his lips firmly together. Every move he made was directed with such ease, such ready comprehension. In a way, he drove like he made love.
“Is there anything I should know about your best friend before we arrive?” Drew asked me, turning his head primly toward me.
I thought for a moment. “You know. One thing you might want to know is that she was one of the premier ballerinas throughout the country. She was the head ballerina at her university before this guy—her husband—swooped her up and promptly married her.”
“That’s tragic,” Drew said, saying exactly what I wanted him to say.
I nodded. “I think she’s happy, though.” We were stopped at a red light and the engine hummed beneath us. “She has her baby. And her lake, and her life. I don’t think she would have changed anything.” I thought for a moment. “Would you change anything about your life?”
Drew sighed through his nose. “You know. That’s a heavy question. Because—if I were to change anything, I wouldn’t be here, with you, right now.”
I smiled, flashing him my white smile. I brought my blonde locks around to my front and played with the ends, a bit nervous with the energy, the vibrant way Drew and I spoke to each other—as if we had something here. As if we were more than just hooking up.
Finally, we arrived to the other side of the city. We parked in the parking garage beneath Mel’s apartment building. We walked outside of the garage to look at the angry lake in the evening air. We could hear the waves crashing into the sand. I watched as a single, lonely runner rushed down the boardwalk, south, toward the bright lights of downtown. A single red hat wrapped around his ears, shielding himself from the angry autumn air.
“Shall we?” Drew asked me, placing a tender hand at the base of my back.
I nodded, turning back around. We walked toward the elevator in the foyer, and rushed to the top of the building, where I knew Mel an
d her husband had the entire top floor. I tucked myself close to Drew, feeling a bit afraid of the evening ahead. Would Mel approve of this man? Would she chide me for bringing home such a player, such a man who would surely ruin my life, my mentality?
Deep in my heart, I knew nothing mattered anyway. I would probably have to rush back home, to Indianapolis, and admit that I had messed up my life, that I didn’t have what it took to remain. I knew this would happen. So I decided to enjoy my time, no matter what.
We walked toward her large door after the great elevator doors opened before us. “Now. This wouldn’t be too bad,” Drew laughed as we looked at the automatic grandeur of their foyer. A large painting hung on the wall; a beautiful rug swooped along the floor. “I should look into a place like this.”
“I thought you wanted to live in Wicker Park?” I asked him, my eyes flashing. In my head, nothing was better than Wicker Park. Nothing.
“I do, of course. But later. Wouldn’t it be nice to live by the lake?” He wrapped me in an embrace, there in front of the door. I felt, again, like we were a part of something bigger—something stronger.
Finally, I struck my finger against the doorbell and waited. On the other side of the thick door, I could hear a baby crying; I could hear a woman—Mel?—calling to the baby. “It’s okay! It’s okay!”
Drew and I exchanged glances, both of us at once happy that we hadn’t had children yet—that we hadn’t reached this state of apparent “bliss” that included screaming and baby poop.
Finally, Mel appeared on the other side of the door, baby Jackson strewn across her left shoulder. “Darling,” Mel said, leaning toward me. I grabbed her in a big hug and placed my lips on baby Jackson’s head.
“Is he all right? He’s crying?” I whispered with great emotion. I was never sure how to be around babies.
“Oh, he’s fine. He just was hungry. But we’re taking care of it.” Mel grinned, showing all of her wide, white teeth. “And you’ve brought a friend?” Suddenly, I watched Mel’s jaw drop. I assumed, in that moment, that she thought he was so gorgeous, so perfect, perhaps too perfect for me. But instead, she screamed into the hallway; “ANDREW?”
My eyebrows arched over my eyes. “What?”
But Drew, beside me, had wrapped Mel into a broad hug, as if they had known each other all their lives. I looked from head to head, at the way their eyes closed as they embraced.
“Oh, god. It’s been years!” Mel cried. “Hank! It’s Andrew!”
“New York Andrew?” This was the voice from the other room. Hank, Mel’s husband, turned the corner and approached them, a bit of pasta sauce on his shirt. He shook his head, reaching his hand out to Drew. “God, buddy. It’s good to see you again. You been in the city long?”
Finally, Drew spoke. “Just a few weeks, actually. I was meaning to call you both. God. I did NOT think this was where we were coming. I thought you guys still lived in Old Town.”
Hank shook his head. He placed his hand across the back of his neck. “Nope. Nope. We moved here a bit before the baby was born.”
“That’s right. You know, my mom mentioned you had a baby. But I didn’t know he was this adorable. Or small.”
Mel leaned across and handed baby Jackson to Drew. My eyes were wide as I watched the interaction take place. “What’s going on?” I finally sputtered. Everyone seemed to know each other so well. “How do you guys know each other?” I tried to calm my face down. I felt, suddenly, like I was the stranger in the room—like I should be the one to leave to let everyone catch up.
Drew turned toward me, bobbing Jackson like a natural pro in his left hand. “Oh, gosh. Molly. I didn’t know we were coming to see Melanie.”
“And I didn’t know you were bringing Andrew over!” Mel called out, clapping her hands together. Her eyes were bright, happy. She didn’t look like the normally tired, aging ballerina she normally did. “Andrew’s my nephew.”
I looked from Mel to Drew and back. “Nephew?” I asked. Drew was clearly many years older than Mel. I knew he was thirty-three, and Mel was only twenty-eight.
But Mel just waved her hand in the air. “You know. My mother had me like—what? Twenty-two years after she had your dad, my brother?” She turned back toward me. “Anyway. My brother had already had this little guy over here by the time I was born. We grew up together, him and me.”
“I went to see you perform so many times at Loyola. You were the perfect prima ballerina. I can’t believe this.” Drew was shaking his head, peering down at the small baby in his arms. “What a wonderful thing. I heard you were a dance instructor these days, keeping the dance in the family?”
And because Mel hadn’t been trained, because she didn’t know, she casually spouted these words, giving away my entire cultivation; “Oh, yes. I’m just Molly’s assistant at Molly Says Dance. You know, she’s a marvelous dancer.”
Drew’s eyes were suddenly on me. He looked at me earnestly, still bobbing the baby. “I see. I didn’t know you were a dancer.”
I nodded, feeling naked. I swallowed slowly.
But it didn’t seem to matter. Not then. This was suddenly a family gathering. Hank rushed us into the dining room, where he had set out a giant platter of spinach lasagna. He picked Jackson up out of Drew’s arms and swept him to the back nursery.
“He’s getting so big,” Drew offered to Mel. I felt strange, thinking I should have said these words to her, instead.
“Oh, gosh. It’s going too fast. But now that I don’t have work these days, I’ve been able to catch every little thing he does. He actually tried to crawl the other day, can you believe it?”
We all sat down at the table. Hank and Mel sat on opposite sides of the table, and Drew and I also sat across from each other. Hank passed around the rolls, then the lasagna. The cheese swept from the platter to my plate easily. I looked toward Mel, feeling I should speak. “This looks delicious, Mel.”
Mel nodded. Her eyes were brimming. “I can’t believe this guy—this Drew fellow you told me about—is our Andrew! My nephew! Can you believe it?”
“There’s a lot I can’t believe,” I murmured, stabbing my fork into the lasagna before me.
“So. What brings you to Chicago?” Hank asked Drew.
“I’m opening a bookstore here. I’ll still own the New York ones, of course. But this new one is my next project. I wanted to come back to my hometown. Be with family. Like you folks.” Drew held his hands on his chest. “Molly. Can I pour you some wine?”
Something in my head was buzzing. I nodded. “Of course. I’d love some wine.”
“Molly doesn’t turn down wine. She’s a smart girl,” Mel said, winking at me. My face burned for a moment.
Drew walked around the table, pouring everyone glasses of wine. I watched as Hank’s chubby face grinned up at Drew, his relative. I felt so strange. The entire dinner was feeling like an out-of-body experience.
“So. Andrew. Mel was actually telling me just last week that you’ve been wrapped up in a bit of charity work these days?” Hank stabbed some cheese lasagna into his mouth and looked at Drew with beady eyes.
Drew cleared his throat. Charity work? I wondered. He hadn’t mentioned anything like this. Here, I had thought he was so typical, just trying to peg me into a notch on his belt before moving onto another lady, anyone else.
“Right. Well, in New York, I was very much involved in Habitat for Humanity, some homeless shelters. That sort of thing. In Chicago, I’ve been looking into that, as well. I want to do good things with my money.”
Mel nodded at him, completely soaking up everything he said. My heart was beating wildly in my chest.
“Also. I want to donate to the school systems here. This was where I grew up, you know. And I got a good education. But I think—I think the way the school system is now, it doesn’t give children a good chance to move up in the world. I actually sat down with the school board of Chicago this past week, and we worked out a payment structure—how much they need, all that.”<
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“I certainly feel a lot better about sending Jack to school here, knowing there are people out there looking out for him and his peers,” Hank said. Mel, on my other side, nodded her head. I noticed she was nearly in tears.
“Andrew. You were always so kind-hearted.”
“Well. Being kind-hearted only goes so far,” Drew murmured, placing his fork and knife down beside his plate. “Now, I have the good fortune to go with it.”
Mel turned toward me. I could read the expression in her eyes so clearly. She wanted me to ask Drew—in that moment!—if he would lend me money to help me buy back the dance studio. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
As if on cue, Drew asked us about it then; “So. How’s the dance studio? Are you guys in an off-season, now? Melanie, you said you weren’t working lately? And Molly—do you do that alongside the PR work?”
I sputtered for a moment before answering. I noted that Mel had busied herself with her lasagna, not wanting to answer. Drew’s eyes were unwavering, so assertive, so kind. “You know. Yes. The dance studio is just taking a hiatus right now. We had a—a show recently. And so. I’m giving the girls a break.”
“I see. And you’re focusing on the PR stuff now?” Drew took another bite from his lasagna.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I mean. Dance is my real passion; it’s what I went to school for. Butler University.”
“A renowned dance program,” Drew murmured, nodding. It didn’t seem like he cared even a little bit that I was a dancer; it didn’t seem like he thought it was strange or dirty. After all, I supposed he had grown up with Mel—who had made dance her life in the years before she had met this raucous Hank sitting next to me.
“Right. Yeah. But. I didn’t make it. Not quite.”
Drew leaned his hand across the table and touched my hand. “Darling, don’t think that way. You are doing so well, teaching other children the art of dance. I think that’s wonderful work.”
I looked up at him, then, realizing the complete undercurrent of his heart, the complete good-natured way he looked at me. Had I completely misjudged him? Did I not really understand who this man was?
Hooked #2 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 2) Page 4