think
I must have been a hundred shades of blush. I put the mike down and the
spotlights went out. The diners started up their conversations again, and I
headed back to the shitty dressing room.
Jonathan was in a booth, staring at me.
Of course that was where the cologne smell had come from. The
source. It wasn’t like he’d gotten it at Barney’s. If it wasn’t a handmade
scent, I’d eat my shoe. But I hadn’t even thought of that until I saw him in a
booth at Frontage with a gorgeous redhead sipping a cosmopolitan. He tipped his
glass to me.
He leaned toward the redhead and whispered something to her.
Right into her ear. Like tipping his glass to me and breathing on her in any
ten second interval was perfectly okay.
I was going to run and get as far from him as possible. I
couldn’t believe what I’d almost done. I wasn’t kidding myself into thinking
monogamy was on the table, but I’d think a day would pass before he’d put his
hand up someone else’s skirt, or that he’d take the trouble to not shove it
right in my face.
But instead of running away like a sensible person, I walked up
to the booth. “Hi, Jonathan.”
“Monica,” he said. “This is Teresa.”
I nodded and smiled, and she held her glass up to me. “That was
beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“You were incredible,” Jonathan said. “I’ve never heard anything
like that.” I stared at him. Something had changed in his face. I couldn’t pin
it down. Softer? Was he tired? Or did Teresa have a relaxing effect on him? His
happiness made me feel evil and sharp.
“I’ve never heard of a man trying to sandwich another woman
between fingering me and fucking me in the same day.”
Teresa, who looked as though she was one hundred percent lady,
almost spit out a mouthful of her cosmopolitan. Jonathan laughed too. I
personally didn’t find any of this funny. I stepped back, and Theresa stood as
well. Maybe she was pissed. Maybe her laugh was the nervous kind or maybe I’d
just shocked her. But she was as composed as possible as she turned to Jonathan
and said, “I’m going to the ladies’.”
He nodded, then scooted over once she was gone. “Would you like
to sit?”
“No.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to get involved, you have a way of
being involved.”
“Even I have limits.”
“She’s a natural redhead.” His look was full deadpan, and though
what he said had a hundred filthy connotations, the one non-pornographic one
became apparent with the straight-faced look.
“She’s your sister,” I said.
“Two years between us. She’d appreciate it if you assumed I was
older.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said. “I have to apologize to her.”
“Are you going to sit? Or am I just going to stare at your body
without touching you?”
I slid in next to him, and he put his arm around me, his
fingertips brushing my neck.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was having dinner with my sister. No, I was not stalking you,
though I have to say again, I think you have a gift. I think I felt a half a
tear, right here.” He touched the inside corner of his eye.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No. I promise you. You were…I don’t have a word big enough.” He
looked at my face, and I noticed his eyelashes were copper, like his hair. I
was overcome by his presence. “Now I know what you’re protecting by not getting
entangled.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that. I really do.”
He ran his finger over my collarbone with just enough pressure to
make me breathe a little more deeply. “Am I seeing you tonight?”
I tried to stay cool, but I wanted him all over again. “I don’t
think I can. I’m not avoiding you. I have something else going on. Tomorrow?”
He shrugged. He must have thought I was playing games with him,
which he’d probably be exquisitely sensitive about after the cheating wife. But
I wasn’t playing a game. Not at all.
“I have a flight out at five tomorrow. After
I must have been a hundred shades of blush. I put the mike down and the
spotlights went out. The diners started up their conversations again, and I
headed back to the shitty dressing room.
Jonathan was in a booth, staring at me.
Of course that was where the cologne smell had come from. The
source. It wasn’t like he’d gotten it at Barney’s. If it wasn’t a handmade
scent, I’d eat my shoe. But I hadn’t even thought of that until I saw him in a
booth at Frontage with a gorgeous redhead sipping a cosmopolitan. He tipped his
glass to me.
He leaned toward the redhead and whispered something to her.
Right into her ear. Like tipping his glass to me and breathing on her in any
ten second interval was perfectly okay.
I was going to run and get as far from him as possible. I
couldn’t believe what I’d almost done. I wasn’t kidding myself into thinking
monogamy was on the table, but I’d think a day would pass before he’d put his
hand up someone else’s skirt, or that he’d take the trouble to not shove it
right in my face.
But instead of running away like a sensible person, I walked up
to the booth. “Hi, Jonathan.”
“Monica,” he said. “This is Teresa.”
I nodded and smiled, and she held her glass up to me. “That was
beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“You were incredible,” Jonathan said. “I’ve never heard anything
like that.” I stared at him. Something had changed in his face. I couldn’t pin
it down. Softer? Was he tired? Or did Teresa have a relaxing effect on him? His
happiness made me feel evil and sharp.
“I’ve never heard of a man trying to sandwich another woman
between fingering me and fucking me in the same day.”
Teresa, who looked as though she was one hundred percent lady,
almost spit out a mouthful of her cosmopolitan. Jonathan laughed too. I
personally didn’t find any of this funny. I stepped back, and Theresa stood as
well. Maybe she was pissed. Maybe her laugh was the nervous kind or maybe I’d
just shocked her. But she was as composed as possible as she turned to Jonathan
and said, “I’m going to the ladies’.”
He nodded, then scooted over once she was gone. “Would you like
to sit?”
“No.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to get involved, you have a way of
being involved.”
“Even I have limits.”
“She’s a natural redhead.” His look was full deadpan, and though
what he said had a hundred filthy connotations, the one non-pornographic one
became apparent with the straight-faced look.
“She’s your sister,” I said.
“Two years between us. She’d appreciate it if you assumed I was
older.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said. “I have to apologize to her.”
“Are you going to sit? Or am I just going to stare at your body
without touching you?”
I slid in next to him, and he put his arm around me, his
fingertips brushing my neck.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was having dinner with my sister. No, I was not stalking you,
though I have to say again, I think you have a gift. I think I felt a half a
tear, right here.” He touched the inside corner of his eye.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No. I promise you. You were…I don’t have a word big enough.” He
looked at my face, and I noticed his eyelashes were copper, like his hair. I
was overcome by his presence. “Now I know what you’re protecting by not getting
entangled.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that. I really do.”
He ran his finger over my collarbone with just enough pressure to
make me breathe a little more deeply. “Am I seeing you tonight?”
I tried to stay cool, but I wanted him all over again. “I don’t
think I can. I’m not avoiding you. I have something else going on. Tomorrow?”
He shrugged. He must have thought I was playing games with him,
which he’d probably be exquisitely sensitive about after the cheating wife. But
I wasn’t playing a game. Not at all.
“I have a flight out at five tomorrow. After
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