Read Online Between Friends by Amanda Cowen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amanda Cowen
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the eyes anymore!
This is the same guy I used to have intense staring contests with
so I could win the last handful of chips (corner crumbs are hands
down the best part of the bag. Who wouldn’t want to win that stare
down?). So I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness mixed with sheer
fondness, when I think of the last Saturday before we slept
together.
It was around four o’clock, and I had
just finished showing a cute two-bedroom condo in Old Town. I had
to run a few errands, and by errands I mean I stopped into Nicole
Miller. I was browsing around, enjoying my moments of solitude and
contemplating a purchase of a new little black dress when my phone
rang.
“ What’s up?” Ben’s chipper
voice beamed through the phone.
“ Just running some errands”
I lied, looked at the price tag on the dress and immediately shoved
it back on the rack.
“ Where are you?”
“ In Old Town. I just
finished showing that great two-bedroom condo about an hour
ago.”
“ Yeah, that thing will sell
itself in a day or two.” Ben said, but quickly added, “I am about
twenty minutes away. What store are you in?”
“ Nicole Miller.” I winced,
embarrassed of my priorities. I still had yet to re-stock my toilet
paper and toothpaste, but I was shopping for a dress I didn’t
need.
“ Okay, I will be right
there. Don’t leave.” Ben said and hung up the phone. I paced around
the store and eventually bought a less expensive version of the
first dress I had found.
Twenty minutes later, Ben whisked
through the doors just like he had said. I remember all the women
who worked there drooling over his presence when he waltzed in. It
wasn’t unusual for women to become immediately smitten by Ben. I
attributed it to a combination of his rugged good looks, paired
with his noble confidence, and his ability to rock a smart and sexy
grey pin-stripped suit (like the one he was wearing that day). He
scanned the perimeters of the store with his soft dark eyes. When
he spotted me, and a smile spread across his face showing off his
bright white grin.
“ What did you buy?” He
asked and tried to snatch my bag to peek inside.
“ None of your business” I
said and shoved my bag under my armpit. Ben rolled his eyes and
followed me out of the store.
When we made it out to the street, he
immediately divulged into a plan. He suggested we go out for dinner
then go back to his place to finish off our “Seinfeld” marathon for
the ninth weekend in a row. I playfully moaned, but was secretly
excited that the final season would come to an end. That way, we
could pick a new series (my pick, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, Ben’s
pick, “Dexter”) to continue our weekend tradition.
“ So do you want to go
somewhere around here to eat? Or somewhere close to my place?” Ben
asked.
“ Do we have to go out for
dinner? Can’t we just get take out? I have been out all day and I
really want to get out of these awful work clothes.” I
said.
That’s when a flickering gleam lit up
in Ben’s eyes, and with much enthusiasm, he suggested we go back to
his place and cook a delicious dinner instead.
As a light rain sprinkled in the air,
Ben and I ran to the Super Market and Wine Cellar on North Clark
Street. Ben took over, whizzing around the store, selecting
different vegetables, whole-wheat noodles, spices, and our favorite
choice of meat (chicken). He would occasionally look at me and
smile from ear to ear, delighted with his idea of becoming Chef
Benjamin Romano for the night. While Ben checked out at the till,
he asked me to go select a bottle of wine. I flashed him a few
choices, but he ended up deciding on a forty-dollar Italian red
wine called Bava Barolo. He insisted it was fantastic, and I
laughed because he was always so serious about his wine. Unlike
him, I would choose the cheapest bottle and go with
that.
We made our way back to Ben’s swanky
condo, overlooking the magnificent Grant Park and he started
pulling out the groceries
This is the same guy I used to have intense staring contests with
so I could win the last handful of chips (corner crumbs are hands
down the best part of the bag. Who wouldn’t want to win that stare
down?). So I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness mixed with sheer
fondness, when I think of the last Saturday before we slept
together.
It was around four o’clock, and I had
just finished showing a cute two-bedroom condo in Old Town. I had
to run a few errands, and by errands I mean I stopped into Nicole
Miller. I was browsing around, enjoying my moments of solitude and
contemplating a purchase of a new little black dress when my phone
rang.
“ What’s up?” Ben’s chipper
voice beamed through the phone.
“ Just running some errands”
I lied, looked at the price tag on the dress and immediately shoved
it back on the rack.
“ Where are you?”
“ In Old Town. I just
finished showing that great two-bedroom condo about an hour
ago.”
“ Yeah, that thing will sell
itself in a day or two.” Ben said, but quickly added, “I am about
twenty minutes away. What store are you in?”
“ Nicole Miller.” I winced,
embarrassed of my priorities. I still had yet to re-stock my toilet
paper and toothpaste, but I was shopping for a dress I didn’t
need.
“ Okay, I will be right
there. Don’t leave.” Ben said and hung up the phone. I paced around
the store and eventually bought a less expensive version of the
first dress I had found.
Twenty minutes later, Ben whisked
through the doors just like he had said. I remember all the women
who worked there drooling over his presence when he waltzed in. It
wasn’t unusual for women to become immediately smitten by Ben. I
attributed it to a combination of his rugged good looks, paired
with his noble confidence, and his ability to rock a smart and sexy
grey pin-stripped suit (like the one he was wearing that day). He
scanned the perimeters of the store with his soft dark eyes. When
he spotted me, and a smile spread across his face showing off his
bright white grin.
“ What did you buy?” He
asked and tried to snatch my bag to peek inside.
“ None of your business” I
said and shoved my bag under my armpit. Ben rolled his eyes and
followed me out of the store.
When we made it out to the street, he
immediately divulged into a plan. He suggested we go out for dinner
then go back to his place to finish off our “Seinfeld” marathon for
the ninth weekend in a row. I playfully moaned, but was secretly
excited that the final season would come to an end. That way, we
could pick a new series (my pick, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, Ben’s
pick, “Dexter”) to continue our weekend tradition.
“ So do you want to go
somewhere around here to eat? Or somewhere close to my place?” Ben
asked.
“ Do we have to go out for
dinner? Can’t we just get take out? I have been out all day and I
really want to get out of these awful work clothes.” I
said.
That’s when a flickering gleam lit up
in Ben’s eyes, and with much enthusiasm, he suggested we go back to
his place and cook a delicious dinner instead.
As a light rain sprinkled in the air,
Ben and I ran to the Super Market and Wine Cellar on North Clark
Street. Ben took over, whizzing around the store, selecting
different vegetables, whole-wheat noodles, spices, and our favorite
choice of meat (chicken). He would occasionally look at me and
smile from ear to ear, delighted with his idea of becoming Chef
Benjamin Romano for the night. While Ben checked out at the till,
he asked me to go select a bottle of wine. I flashed him a few
choices, but he ended up deciding on a forty-dollar Italian red
wine called Bava Barolo. He insisted it was fantastic, and I
laughed because he was always so serious about his wine. Unlike
him, I would choose the cheapest bottle and go with
that.
We made our way back to Ben’s swanky
condo, overlooking the magnificent Grant Park and he started
pulling out the groceries
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