As she storms out of the restaurant, I can only think, well at least this one paid for her half of the meal.
***
This time, I don’t tell Garrett about my date debacle. The last thing I need is for Medusa to find out. Speaking of which…Vivian is unusually AWOL for the first two days of the following week. I have to wait until Tuesday night to bump into her as we’re both leaving the office—and she positively knocks the breath out of me.
I’ve seen her dressed casually before. First, at Garrett and Leslie’s engagement party, then for the date with the windbag. But tonight’s outfit is a TKO! She’s wrapped in a tight black dress that clings to her body like sin and lets me see every curve and plane. Her hair is loose over one shoulder, all glossy and wavy. And the shoes… How many stilettos does she own?
I enter the elevator after her, the familiar scent of vanilla and patchouli hitting my nostrils stronger than usual, as if she’d just sprayed herself.
In the most casual tone I can muster, I ask, “Out on a date?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Isn’t the agency’s policy to set dates on the weekends?”
If I have to skip all the Knicks games to meet strange women, why does she get to go out on a random Tuesday night?
“For first dates, sure.” Vivian flashes me a smug little smirk. “But since this is a second date, we can meet up whenever we like.”
Second date? The announcement stings, and for a reason tragically unrelated to my professional housing situation.
“So, you’ve met The One?” I ask, nervous, needing more information. “Should I start packing boxes?”
“It’s early days still. But Roger is a wonderful man.”
Roger. What kind of name is that? Fit for a rabbit at best.
“Our first date was last Saturday,” Vivian continues. “And we didn’t want to wait two weeks to meet again. This weekend I would’ve been too worried about Tegan and her visit to her father, so we said, what the heck, why not go sooner?”
“Is he a good kisser?”
I swear, I have no idea what in the hell prompted me to ask that question.
“I’d imagine so.” Vivian shrugs. “I’m probably going to find out tonight.”
“That’s a no, then. If he didn’t kiss you after a great first date, he must be a lousy kisser. Wanted to put off the inevitable.”
“Or maybe he’s just a gentleman.”
“Nah, I put my money on lousy kisser.”
“You’re insufferable. And anyway, I bet Roger is a better kisser than you.”
“Yeah?”
The elevator has almost reached the lobby, and in ten seconds she’s going to walk out and go on her wonderful date with Roger not the Rabbit, and kiss him on the way home, and I already hate this random stranger.
Before I can change my mind, I place a hand on her waist to draw her close, cup her cheek, and press my lips to hers. At first, she’s rigid in my arms, but soon one of her hands shuffles up my chest while the other grips the hair at my nape, trying to pull me closer to her. Impossible; our bodies are already fused.
The kiss deepens and becomes more heated. I’m about to move my hands to much riskier areas when the elevator doors ding open and a startled “Oh!” makes us pull apart.
In the lobby, the tall, handsome man who runs the online magazine on our floor is staring at us with a shocked expression, which quickly turns into a wicked smile. “Please, don’t stop on my account,” he says in a posh British accent.
Vivian blushes tomato red, straightens her dress—which has ridden up her thighs, uncovering more delicious skin—and marches out of the elevator. “Don’t worry,” she snaps. “We were done. Good evening.”
I follow her into the hall, and she waits until the man has left before pointing an accusing finger at me. “What did you do that for?”
“You weren’t exactly an innocent bystander,” I note.
“It was a spontaneous reaction, nothing more.”
“Well, I’m glad I could bring out your basic instincts. Anyway,” I shrug, acting a thousand shades cooler than I feel. “You bet me Roger is a better kisser than I am, how were you going to decide who wins otherwise?”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m going on my date now, and I will have fun and not think about you and your stupid bets.”
She walks away, and the way her behind is swaying in that dress and those shoes sure doesn’t help me get my head back on straight.
Yeah, go on your date, kiss Roger, I don’t care.
On impulse, I take my phone out on the off chance that the Listen to Your Heart offices are still open.
Jennifer picks up on the second ring. “This is Jennifer, a Listen to Your Heart Dating Specialist. How may I help you?”
“Hello, this is Lucas Keller.”
“Dr. Keller, good evening. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could find me another date for this week. I’m busy on the weekend, but Thursday night would work great.”
A brief pause. “What happened to ‘I need a break from meeting new people’?”
After the Flat Earther, I’d told her I needed to hit the brakes for a while.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I say.
“Any particular reason?”
“No,” I lie.
“Okay, Dr. Keller, I’ll see what I can do and let you know.”
“Fantastic.”
I hang up and, before I make any more foolish decisions, I take a long, cooling walk home.
Twenty-one
Vivian
My lips are burning. My chest is burning. My core is burning. Every cell in my body is aflame.
I flee my office building and hail the first cab I see to get uptown.
Inside the car, I sit in the back, nervously biting on a nail while trying not to ruin the polish. I won’t have that horrible man spoil the night for me.
So we made out in the elevator. Whatever. No big deal. I won’t think about it.
I. Will. Not.
But no matter how hard I try to ignore what happened, the heat of that kiss doesn’t leave me alone.
