“You still look gorgeous,” I said, and led her back to her car, waiting for her to get in and drive away.
As I got into my own car, I glanced toward the Bean and caught Audrey and Roderick ducking away from the window. Knowing they’d been watching, I had to chuckle. It didn’t bother me a bit.
14
Murphy
“See ya on Saturday,” I said on Thursday while walking out of the Bean, too jumpy with nerves to even let the ya bother me. The old Murphy would have never used such slang. Good old Mom would have been sitting on my shoulder, shaking her head.
With anxiety rattling through every bone in my body, I tried to still my mind. Perhaps the latte in my hand was a bad idea, but Ben was picking me up later, and I couldn’t recall being this nervous in a long time. It was hard not to keep thinking about high school, because that was the only reference point I had when it came to him.
During those years, our relationship came easy. But then again, it was mostly behind closed doors.
Sliding into my car, wedging my newly minted, limited-release Busy Bean Yeti into my cracked cup holder, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Scolding myself for wasting time, I sped home to work on a few advance posts for Hunnie. She’d loved the family-based slogans I’d been doing, and apparently, her clicks and sales were starting to climb.
After downing my coffee, jumping in the shower, and curling up in my robe on my bed, I wrote three new story lines for Hunnie’s social media, and then made the mistake of spending some time on my own.
Like an idiot, I clicked on a link for an article in the society section of the New York Post.
landon family moving on and about the city without their daughter
Former State Representative Marshall Landon and his wife, Lyssa, were seen last week at the annual Firefighters Benefit sans their daughter.
The couple’s only child, Murphy Landon, usually attended the event each year with her parents, and was a boon to Landon during his last run for office. Parading Ms. Landon and her undeniable wealth of community service plus her fluff job in the Ivy League around town was a tactic Mr. Landon used for years. The father-daughter duo were photographed more than any other pair. Always smiling, Ms. Landon never let the crowd down.
Last year, we reported about her illicit relationship with a twenty-five-year-old graduate student at the Ivy League university where she worked as a student advisor, and we have learned that Ms. Landon has recently left her position. When interviewed last year, Ms. Landon maintained that she didn’t know he was a student at the school where she worked, and that the pair only went on a few dates and were not intimate. Her parents have been surprisingly quiet on the issue, stating ‘it’s nonsense’ and ‘no comment.’
It’s rumored that Mr. and Mrs. Landon have sent their daughter away to repair her image.
I didn’t read any more, quickly clicking off the page and sitting up in bed. More than anything, I hated that the media insinuated that it was my parents who sent me away. I left of my own volition, wanting to be someone different, better, a whole person dedicated to a new cause. Shaking my head, I stood to get dressed for my date, wondering what someone wore to a drive-in. I was determined not to let the bad press ruin my evening.
By the time Ben knocked on my door, I was in my third outfit. Skinny jean capris, a lightweight gray off-the-shoulder T-shirt, and a loose pale pink sweater over my arm in case I got cold.
“Hi,” I said as I opened the door.
“Hi, there.” Ben walked inside, seemingly taking command of an empty room.
Right then, it clicked with me that our roles had reversed. In prep school, I had all the perceived confidence and power, and now Ben did. Was that why he liked me now?
“You look great,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss on the cheek, distracting me from my negative thoughts.
“I hate to say it, but I didn’t want to look like an outsider like I did at the market.”
“Never. You look like you . . . but better. Less makeup, more natural. It’s a perfect look on you, Murph.”
I ducked my head, my cheeks hot.
“Hey.” Ben brought a finger under my chin and tipped my gaze up to his. “Don’t hide from me.”
Stepping away, letting my sweater fall on the couch and pretending to look through a pile of shoes, I mumbled, “It’s so embarrassing, I’ve never been to one. I’ve been to Broadway premieres and award shows at Carnegie Hall, but not a drive-in. Isn’t that ludicrous?”
“Those,” Ben said, changing the subject when my hand rested on an Adidas sneaker.
“Really?” I stood up holding them. “I’ve never worn these on a date. If that’s what this is.”
“Murph, it’s a date. The shoes are perfect. Look at mine,” he said, and I glanced down, relieved to find Ben wearing a pair of running shoes. “And I’m kind of glad you’ve never been to a drive-in.”
“Why is that?” I asked, plopping down onto the worn sofa to slip on and tie my shoes.
“Because back at Pressman, I didn’t think there would be anything I could offer you.” He sat down next to me. “Something different from what you already had, more exciting than what you’d already done in life. And now I am.”
Speechless, I nodded.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to take you to a nice dinner, something farm-to-table with a good bottle of wine to share, but this is fun too, I think. New experiences.”
I turned on the couch to take all of Ben in, with his flat-front khaki shorts, navy T-shirt, tousled hair, and running shoes. No watch, no jewelry, no airs about him, just pure goodness.
“This is what I thought about after I stalked you
