Mister Fixit

  I’ve walked on heels since I was fifteen, but you’d never know it as I try to make my way across the room. I trip not once, but twice, on invisible bumps in the floor. For my second one, I’m just a foot away from my destination. Rob’s arm comes out to catch me, and I land against his side.

  The ice in his glass chinks around as he steadies us both. “Well, hello there,” he says, amused. “That’s one way to make an entrance.”

  “Oh my god,” I say, my face beet red. “I’ve forgotten how to walk, I guess.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just making a move on me?”

  I stand on my own power and smile, praying he can’t see my zits. I’m afraid I rubbed off some of my cream on his jacket, but the lighting is too low to know for sure. “Please. I have to believe I’m smoother than that.”

  He signals the bartender and then looks at me. “What’ll you have?”

  You in my bed?

  “Umm, how about some white wine. Whatever’s good.” My face is still flushed. Now that I’m finally here on a date with my dream-guy, it feels like I’ve left the real world and entered one of my daydreams. How many have I created over the years? A hundred? Two hundred. No, not even close. It’s probably more like a thousand.

  He orders for me and hands me the glass, lifting his own at the same time. “Here’s to first dates, as awkward as they are.”

  I touch my glass to his. “Here’s hoping I get more coordinated as the night goes on.”

  I nearly choke on my wine when he winks at me and says, “I’ll drink to that.”

  As he sips his whiskey, I look around the room in an effort to stop staring at him. Every other time in my life when I’ve stood next to him, I’ve been chatting about inane stuff, or commenting about some family matter or something my brothers might have done. But now we’re together because we’re mutually interested in seeing whether we can have any kind of relationship that doesn’t focus on or feature my brothers in any way. I feel like I’m about to have a stroke. I have no idea what to say or what to talk about.

  “You ready to sit at a table?” he asks. He’s all calm and collected, showing no sign of being freaked out. I think they taught him that skill in law school or something.

  My eyes dart around the room as I take in all the people having quiet conversations, the tall ceilings going up to forever, the waiters bustling around serving up food people will talk about for years after leaving… and I just can’t picture it. I can’t picture me sitting there with Rob and having our first date.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, putting his hand on my elbow.

  “Nothing.” My voice comes out really high, so I rein it in and try again. “Nothing. I’m fine. Why would you ask me that? Don’t I look fine?” I reach up and almost touch my chin, but stop myself just in time and touch my hair instead, patting the side of it. That’s all I need to do is call his attention to the pimple factory. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my own skin as I do right now.

  Rob touches my cheek with one finger and then pulls it away. “Jana. I’ve known you forever. I know your panicked look when I see it.”

  I war within myself over whether I should be honest and admit what I’m feeling or fake it until I make it. And in this case, make it could mean have an actual panic attack and run from the room screaming or just stumble my way through dinner the way I did my entrance. Either way, it’s not going to be pretty.

  “Come on,” he says all of a sudden. “Let’s get out of here.” He puts his drink on the bar top.

  “What?” I’m confused.

  He takes my wine glass, puts it next to his tumbler, and then throws forty bucks after it. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to eat here.” He starts leading me toward the exit.

  “What do you mean?” I look up at him, worried he’s angry or changing his mind about being with me. Were my pimples that horrible that they completely put him off the idea of being with me? I knew I should have bought more cover-up.

  “This was a bad idea. Coming here. I should have kept it more low-key.”

  “Low key, like… as friends?” I hate how weepy my voice sounds.

  He stops all of a sudden, making me crash into the back of him. When he turns around his eyes have a crazy look to them.

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  He looks as sick as I felt thinking it. I smile and squeeze his hand. “Ignore me. I’m nervous.” And now I’m flying on a cloud! Because I can tell from his expression that he wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. Or he wants to be with me as more than a friend, at least. I can build on that. Hell, I’ve built an entire imaginary life as his wife, spent years perfecting that vision. I can do this.

  “I know, and it’s my fault. This restaurant will be great for our fifth date, but not our first.” He stops at the front and retrieves our coats and scarves.

  He said fifth date! Weeee!

  “Where are we going?” I ask, excited about the change of venue. He’s right. This place is too stuffy for us right now. Not that I know the right place for us on our first date. And he said fifth date! Weeeee again!

  “Just trust me.” He stops just before walking out the door. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  I nod, taking his hand and folding my fingers through his. “Yes. I trust you with everything.”

  He leans down and kisses me just to the left of my mouth. “Good.” He turns toward the exit and lifts his hand, like he’s going to push the door open.

  I stop him with a hand on his sleeve.

  He looks down at me, a bemused smile on his face.

  “Try that again,” I say, staring at his lips.

  “Try what again?”

  “That kiss. I think you missed.”

  I can tell the exact moment that he gets what I’m after. His eyes go warm and he turns toward me, a hand coming up to touch the side of my face. He leans down and I catch a whiff of whiskey on his breath before his lips are fully pressed against mine.

  My heart soars and my head nearly explodes with the feelings that rush through me the moment we touch. His lips fit so perfectly against mine. I expected awkwardness. Fumbling around. A banging of noses and teeth. But none of that happens. Instead, his tongue comes out to slide across my bottom lip a second before he pulls away. It’s way more amazing than I ever dreamed it could be.

  “That better?” he asks me.

  I nod dumbly afraid if I try to speak it’ll just come out as a disjointed flow of random syllables.

  He frowns. “I can do better. I promise.”

  I smile as he pushes the door open and a blast of winter air hits us. I can’t feel the cold right now, though. I’m impervious to its effects. Rob’s kiss has warmed me all the way down to my toes, and I’m pretty sure I’m not even walking on the pavement right now. Every step I take feels like I’m floating an inch above everyone else’s feet. No man’s kiss has ever made me feel this way. I’m almost afraid of what will happen when he really gets his hands on me.

  Sex with Rob! Ahhh! I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole and I never want to come out!

  “Taxi!” Rob adds a whistle to his call and a cab zooms from the other lane to reach us.

  As we settle into our seats, the cabbie looks into his mirror. “Where to?”

  Rob speaks up without hesitation. “Times Square. Stardust Diner.”

  I sit back in the seat, eagerly awaiting my first adventure with Rob. I have no idea what this diner is all about, but so long as he’s there and he kisses me again, I’m all for it.

  Rob’s fingers weave in with mine and we rest our hands on the seat between us. I cannot stop grinning the entire way across the city.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THERE’S A LINE OUTSIDE THE Stardust diner that looks like any other restaurant of its kind. Usually when I see a group of people waiting to get inside a place, I turn around and head the other direction, especially when it’s cold out. Tonight, it’s a different matter altogether. Time spent in line
is more time for Rob to kiss me. We take our places at the back of the group and stand, face to face. Rob wraps his arms around my waist and smiles at me.

  “Have you ever been here before?”

  “No.” I glance at the people next to me. They seem pretty excited, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because of the restaurant or the fact that they’re tourists seeing Times Square for the first time.

  “I think you’ll like it.”

  The way he says it makes me suspicious. “Are there Chippendale dancers in there or something?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “What makes you think I frequent a diner that has half-naked men dancing around inside it?”

  “Good point. But the way you said it… the way you asked me. You looked sneaky.”

  He adjusts his arms around me, bringing me a little closer. “Sneaky. I’m not sneaky. I’m the opposite of sneaky.”

  “Says who?” A glimmer of our recent history tries to sneak into my brain, but I tamp it down. I can’t think of Cassie tonight; it’ll ruin everything.

  “Says anyone who’s ever known me. I’ve tried my whole life to keep secrets and it never works. The truth is always written all over my face. That’s why I mostly do contract law. I’d be slain in court.”

  I stare at that face he claims is an open book and shake my head. “Sorry. Nope. I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.”

  His expression changes to something more serious. “Why is it that the person who’s actually seen my face more than almost anyone else is the one least able to read it?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea. Maybe I’m just bad at it.”

  He sighs. “Or maybe I’ve spent way too much energy trying to keep things from you over the years and I’ve gotten really good at it.”

  “What do you mean?” My voice has gone soft because it feels like I’m about to hear a confession of sorts. I don’t want to discourage him; we both need to clear the air about a few things before we can move forward. I’m just not sure the line for the Stardust Diner is the best place for all of that. A glance to my left tells me we’re about two parties behind the front of the line.

  “Do you remember when we first met?” he asks.

  “How could I forget?” My cheeks start to burn with the admission, but I can’t stop smiling. Tonight will be a night of taking risks, telling truths that have stayed hidden for a really long time.

  “I came back with your brother for Christmas break.”

  “Oh, believe me, I remember every detail.” My heart grows full with memories of myself dreaming of him over the years. That first day I saw him, I knew. I knew he’d play the starring role in my dreams forever.

  “So do I. You were wearing shorts and a rainbow unicorn T-shirt. You were just a kid.”

  I frown. “Shorts? It was winter time.”

  “I know. You were dancing around in your room or something. You came running down the stairs in shorts and a T-shirt, with your hair in a ponytail. You told James you were going to be a cheerleader when you were older and you had to start learning the moves now.”

  “Oh my god, I forgot that part.” A flash of Rob at the bottom of the stairs comes to me. “I was so mad at James for not warning me you were coming.”

  The corner of Rob’s mouth quirks up in a smile. “You were mad at him? Why?”

  I sigh, trying not to grin but finding it impossible. “He sent a picture of the two of you home with one of his letters. I’m afraid to admit I got a little nuts over that thing.”

  “Reeeally? When you were that young? Tell me more.”

  His silly grin makes me want to smack him or kiss him, I can’t decide which. I keep talking instead of choosing between the two. “I don’t know. I just saw you and you were wearing that crew shirt and you guys had your arms around each other and…” I shrug. It seems silly to say it out loud.

  “What? Tell me.” He leans in closer, shutting out the world. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I thought you said you were terrible at keep secrets.”

  “Not all secrets. Just the ones that should be shared.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Stop stalling and tell me the rest of the story about how you fell in love with my picture.”

  “Hey! I didn’t say I fell in love with your picture.” I try to push him away, but he stays put, holding me tighter. I feel silly with him smiling at me like that.

  “Come on, just admit it,” he says.

  “No. I’m not admitting anything.” I pout, trying to move past my silly emotions. He could devastate me so easily. One wrong word and I could go from happy and confident to destroyed. I feel like I’m standing near the edge of a cliff being urged to move a little closer to it.

  “Okay, I’ll start.” He leans down and kisses me briefly on the lips, pulling away before we can really get into it. “The first time I saw you, I thought of you like a kid sister. That vacation, you were with us everywhere. James was annoyed, but I thought it was cute. I didn’t have any siblings, as you know, so having a little girl running around bugging us was funny to me. And you were so comical. I was constantly laughing at the things you were saying, but James just got madder and madder. I didn’t care that you were always there. I liked it.”

  My heart lurches, like it’s flipped over in my chest cavity. The smile on my face gets even bigger. “Really?” That he had the patience for a little girl as an eighteen year old teenager is amazing. I remember my brother trying to shut me out of his bedroom and our mother forcing him to let me stay.

  “Really. James hated that I liked having you around. I think he was jealous or something. Not that he was in love with me or anything, but I think he had more exciting things planned for our break than babysitting his annoying little sister. After the first week, he did everything he could to keep me away from you.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  He laughs. “Of course you didn’t. Because no matter what he did, you showed up anyway.”

  I can’t look Rob in the eyes now. I remember hounding them over the years like some kind of crazy hunting dog on a scent. When I got to my pre-teen and early teen years, I’d ask my parents where James was going, they’d tell me, and I’d pretend like I was planning to go there too and get my mom or my dad to drop me off or force James to chaperone me.

  “The country club, the mall, the golf course, even.”

  “And I hated golf too,” I add, kind of proud of my determination at such a young age. I’m going to try and convince myself it was that and not the early budding stage of a stalker.

  “You were terrible at it, I remember that.”

  “Hey!” I play smack him on the chest. “I wasn’t that bad.”

  “You hit the side of our cart with a ball from the tee.

  “It was a bad slice.”

  “James was convinced you were trying to put him in the hospital.”

  “He was always overly dramatic.”

  “Your brother? Overly dramatic? On what planet?”

  “Whatever. He just didn’t want to share you, but I did.” I shrug. “Not my problem.”

  “I’m glad you made him share. Over the years we both got used to it. And after I saw you in your bathing suit when you were seventeen, I didn’t want to hang out with him anymore anyway.”

  “What? You’re crazy.” I want to jump out from his arms and dance and sing, but I restrain myself. Barely.

  “It was yellow and pink. Bright colors. And each side had this tassel thing hanging down. You were way too young for me, but I couldn’t help staring.”

  “Wow, your attention to detail is amazing.”

  He leans in and whispers in my ear. “I remember other things about you in that suit too, but I’m keeping it clean since we’re in public.” His lips touch my neck and he kisses me. A shiver moves out from there to cover my entire body.

  “Next!” a voice from off to my left says loudly.

  We both look up suddenly, as if we’ve been caught doin
g something we shouldn’t have.

  A lady is standing there with a clipboard in both hands. “You coming in or staying out here?” She smiles.

  “On our way.” Rob takes my hand in his and guides me into the restaurant. I’m glad for the support because otherwise, I’d probably just float right up into the ether and set the sky on fire.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE PLACE IS HOPPING. THERE must be three hundred people inside, from all walks of life. It’s impossible to tell how many are tourists and how many are locals. We get a seat right in the center of everything, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with other people at tables so close I could reach over and sneak french fries from their plates.

  “You’ve been here before?” I ask.

  “Once.” He looks down at his menu.

  “Was it a date?”

  “Yes.” He doesn’t look up.

  Jealousy like I’ve never known comes rising up from the depths and feels like it’s strangling me. I want to kill this woman, whoever she is. Obviously, I’ve gone completely mental, now that I have my prize nearly in my grasp. I should probably stop asking questions and convince myself that jealously like this is a bad idea, but I don’t. Of course I don’t.

  “Do I know her? What’s her name?”

  “Yes, you know her.” He frowns at the menu, like he’s concentrating really hard on it.

  I lift my own menu a little and move it across the table to tap on his with it. He finally looks up, acting all innocent like he wasn’t just trying to hide from me.