When I got back to my seat, I tilted my chair back slightly, straining my ears for what was happening at the green-eyed man’s table.
“I think I’ll turn in early tonight, Ross. Thank you for a lovely meal.”Melissa Makings deserves a gold star for listening to what I said!
I heard him drawl, “That’s strike two, Melissa. My name’s Roscoe, not Ross.”
I couldn’t resist turning my head to see what was happening. He still had his back to me, but I could see Melissa fight down her need to please him, obey his whims. “You have my number, Roscoe. I hope to hear from you again. I called a car service when I was in the restroom. Good night.” She bent down and brushed the side of his cheek with her lips. I turned around to face my parents again, feeling kind of breathless. I had won!
It’s almost as if I could feel his reaction. I think he might not hear the word ‘no’ too often. I was dying to turn around, see if that hundred-dollar bill was still on the table.
“We should head off back to Jersey, Kaye.” My dad said to Mom. “Can we give you a lift to Washington Heights, Tess? Or do you want me to call you a car?” Bless them. I know they hate driving in the City. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll take an Uber.” I pretended to take my phone out to order a car, but the moment my parents left the restaurant, I walked to his table.
“Thank you…and no hard feelings?” I said, and reached out my hand to take the bill. He grabbed my wrist. Wow. He was strong. His hands were large and slightly rough. I wonder what he does to get calluses on his hands?He didn’t look like the outdoors type. “Do you want to take her place?” he asked me straight out.
I felt myself blushing. I was angry, insulted, astonished, breathless and a bit scared, if I was honest. How dare he? But at the same time, I felt a strange compulsion to say yes. I haven’t had sex since the breakup.What am I thinking?
“That’s strike three,” I lowered my voice so that only he could hear what I was saying.
The rest of the night was a blur. I remember running out into the hotel. Maybe it was the way his green eyes followed me as I left the room, with that half humorous, half challenging expression on his face, but I felt the need to flee. Fast. The concierge began approaching me, the offer to fetch me a cab showing on his face. I shook my head, darting my eyes from the restaurant door to the exit. Then I realized he would be leaving through the street exit, not come through the hotel side. Mentally shaking my head at the ridiculousness of the thought that he would even consider following me, I managed to control my breathing. I sat down in the lobby and ordered a car. As if someone like that would ever want to be with me. He was just teasing.
* * *
Charlie takes her weekends seriously, so I know not to bother her with what happened last night until she’s had two coffees. What a bizarre way of earning a hundred dollars…
My best friend, Charlie Bailey, and I took a coin toss to see who would be the one to get the bedroom and who would have to sleep in the living area. To make it fairer, I told Charlie we would swap every year to alternate the bedroom situation. “Hopefully by then, we’ll both be millionaires and will never have to worry about paying rent ever again!” Charlie had said. She’s an optimist and believes that, somehow, I’ll make it big following my childhood dream. Even after all that has happened. Yeah, right. I appreciate her trust in me, though.
I sigh and plump up the old feather pillows behind me with a fist. I may as well take out the hundred-dollar bill and gloat over it a bit. He released my wrist the moment I snarled my refusal at him. The bill is slightly crinkled where I held it balled in my fist in the taxi on the way home. I smooth it out on my bent knees, trying to regain that sensation of victory. Then I see,Tess. Call me, DM me. You know you want to. I promise it will be fun. Roscoe.Followed by his number. In ink!
“What the…?!”
I shout the words out so loud Charlie moans and croaks out something that could be ‘shut up’. This is me, Tess Jolliffe, officially pissed off! Does the man not listen or learn? I know how he works and if he thinks his tricks are going to work on me, he has another thing coming.
I jump out of bed and begin pacing from one side of the tiny bedroom to the other. One date walks out on him, and the next thing, he’s looking around for a replacement? The man is incorrigible.
Running to the bathroom, I twist the shower faucet on to blast and then step under the head. This is what I need to clear my head of his face.
Yes, I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him handsome. But his personality is horrid. I wouldn’t call him if he was the last man alive.
Knock knock.
“Tess? How long are you going to be? I need to brush my teeth.” Yes! Finally, I have someone I can vent to.
Except… Charlie meanders into the kitchen half an hour later. “Tess, I spoke to Tim last night. He has a buddy who’s in charge of hiring at some fancy-schmancy investment firm…” she pauses to bite, chew, and swallow a piece of bagel, “…and they need someone to do their in-house brochure editing. I said you could start Monday.”
This news erases everything else swirling inside my head. After getting some more details from Charlie and giving Tim a call to get his friend’s number, I video call the guy the minute my hair’s dry to see if he needs anything from me. As I press disconnect, I hug my friend. “You never told me that you keep a copy of my resume on your phone, Charles…thank you, more than words can say. While I was eating my face off at some fancy Manhattan restaurant, you never took your eye off the prize.”
Charlie pats me on the back. “I just don’t want you paying rent using your credit cards anymore, you noodle.”
* * *
It’s my fourth day at work. Gerry Mannheimer is a cool boss.
“Bryson Bridges is taking a brief leave of absence—back surgery—so I’ll have to run you upstairs at some point to meet Roscoe. He’s running the ship until his father returns to work,” Gerry told me on my first day here. I had been up since five that morning and buzzing from caffeine. “Yes, mm-huh, alrighty then.” I was trying, and failing, to absorb as much info as I could. “Bryson, Roscoe, got it.”
Now, four days into the job that will give me a chance to start chipping away at my student debt, my boss is back to give me another assignment. “This is the website you’ll be creating the new pdf for,” Gerry is seated at the desk, moving the mouse around on the screen; I’m standing behind his chair, leaning over, reading the website words, when I’m hit by a freight train. “Oh my God!”
Gerry has just clicked on one of the Header breadcrumbs and now there he is. The man from the restaurant. Fortunately, Gerry finds my outburst entirely understandable. “Yeah. He’s one handsome S.O.B. That’s for sure. He’s got all the female—and some of the male—staff eating out of the palm of his hand.” And Gerry goes on to outline what information is needed in the brochure. I created dozens of brochures as a student. Doing the work is not the problem. My new boss is.
After putting the final flourish on the pdf, I take the one-hundred-dollar bill out of my purse and stare at it.What the hell, might as well stick his number into my phone. You never know. It might do this temporary career of mine some good having a direct line to the top. Forgive and forget and all that. All I did was cock-block him after all, and he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would struggle finding a replacement.