Just Friends With Benefits (15 page)

“I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he said.

As long as it doesn’t involve our mutual ‘friend’ Paul.
“Sure. What’s up?”

“I’m trying to gather information about the management of IT groups at other firms.”

“Why?”

Hille laughed and said, “Don’t sound so disgusted! It’s not for fun, Steph. I’m trying to compare how other large firms are dealing with the economy and whether they’re laying anyone off, outsourcing, cutting salaries. That sort of thing. Can you help me out?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I couldn’t believe Hille was so nonchalant.

“Thanks, kid.”

“So, uh, have you seen the pictures from New Year’s Eve?” I muttered ‘loser’ under my breath when it occurred to me that, of course, Hille had seen the pictures. It was his album.

“Yeah, they came out pretty good. I especially liked the ones with Corky. Although the pictures didn’t do justice to his performance with the hula hoop. Eric should’ve used his video camera. The rest of the pictures were pretty boring. Not my best album.”

Flashing back to the lust-struck look on my face in one picture in particular, I said, “Definitely not!” I bit my lip as I realized that probably came out wrong. Quickly correcting myself, I said, “I mean, uh, it was an okay album.”

“Paul looked fat. I’ll be sure to bring that to his attention,” Hille said.

Figuring Hille’s phone call was his way of telling me not to sweat the picture, I giggled and said, “Please do. Would serve him right.” I didn’t think I needed to specify why. “Thanks, Craig.” I wished I could kiss him through the phone.

“So, you’ll get me that information about your firm’s IT group?”

“Huh? Oh, that. Of course I will. No problem.” If Hille was sweet enough to come up with such a lame excuse to call me, I could at least pretend to go along with it.

“Shit, Stephanie. I gotta get back to work. Thanks again for helping me out.”

“Back at you. I feel so much better now, you have no idea.”

I waited for a response but Hille was already gone and I was left staring at the phone.

After we hung up, I went to make copies of a corporate binder for a client. As I unstapled the documents and ran them through the copier, I hoped the paper wouldn’t jam. And I thought about how nice it was of Hille to make up a lie just so he could call and make me feel better about Paul’s obnoxious email. I smiled as I recalled our dinner in New York and how the cleft in his chin became more defined when I made him laugh.

Copies finished, I went to grab an empty black binder and a three-hole puncher. The small supply closet reminded me of the half bath in Eric and Jess’s house where Hille and I had sex and I remembered how he poured my coffee the next morning.

One of the other paralegals at work did the ‘with benefits’ thing. She talked about drunk text messages and late night booty calls, but as far as I knew, there was never any coffee involved. And she never mentioned anything about the guy going out of his way to protect her from an insufferable ex-boyfriend.

After work that night, I walked through the front door of my apartment, threw my keys on the kitchen table and removed my cell phone from inside my pocketbook. Pacing the length of my living room, I hit number three on my speed dial.

“What did you mean when you said Hille could be a challenge?” I asked.

“Huh?”

Exasperated, I raised my voice and repeated, “When you said Craig could be a challenge, what did you mean?”

“Relax, Stephanie Lynn Cohen. Don’t get touchy with me.”

“Sorry, Eric.”

“What is this about?”

“On New Year’s Eve, we were outside and you were smoking and grilling burgers. By the way, you really shouldn’t smoke and cook at the same time. I think I tasted ashes in my burger. Anyway, I told you I sort of liked Hille and you said he could be a challenge.”

“Perhaps I gave you one of the hashburgers—could explain your sex with Hille in the bathroom later than night.”

“Haha, Eric. Seriously, what did you mean?”

“I just threw the word ‘challenge’ out there. I don’t really know what I was thinking at the time.”

“You must have been thinking something, Eric.” Tired from pacing, I sat down in my reclining chair and with my free hand, began twirling pieces of hair around my index finger. “Is there something I should know about him? Beyond his quiet reserve, is Hille a bastard to women? Or a player? Does he have some sexually transmitted disease?”

Laughing, Eric responded, “No! Not at all. It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve never seen him ga-ga over a chick. In fact, I’ve never seen him make much effort at all for a girl. In fifteen or so years of friendship, wouldn’t you think I’d see that?”

Practically ripping the hair from my scalp, I said, “Maybe he just hasn’t met a girl worthy of being ga-ga over. Doesn’t mean he’s not capable, does it?”

“Are you saying you want to be that girl, Stephanie?”

Of course I did, but hoping I sounded convincing, I said, “No, I just wondered what you meant by ‘challenge,’ that’s all.”

“Look, Steph, if Hille does it for you, by all means, have fun. Just be safe.”

Laughing at Eric’s mature advice, I said, “Yes, Dad!”

“And be careful.”

“Careful? Is that different from ‘safe’?”

Eric simply repeated, “Just be careful.”

“Aw! You love me, don’t you – you big sap!”

“Yes. I – love – you – all – over,” Eric responded robotically.

“I love you, too.”

After we hung up, I thought about what Eric said. It was true Hille didn’t have any serious girlfriends in college but, then again, neither did most of my friends. For most people I knew, college was a time for having fun. I wasn’t all that privy to details regarding his love life after college, although I knew he dated girls here and there. Although I didn’t really see a problem with the fact that, at the ripe old age of 34, Hille had not yet been “ga-ga” over someone, between his categorization of us as friends with benefits, the absence of any real behavior on his part to suggest he felt otherwise and Eric’s warning, I decided it was time to move on and focus my energies elsewhere. I decided to renew my Match.com subscription.

It was a Wednesday night, my weekly ‘Girl’s night’ with Suzanne, but we weren’t in the mood to go out and decided to just order in and watch “Criminal Minds” at my apartment. It hadn’t started yet so I muted the television and showed her my amended dating profile.

After reading it, Suzanne cocked her head to the side, gave me a puzzled look and said, “You seriously plan on posting this?”

“What? It’s not good?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far. But…”

“But what?”

Suzanne rolled her eyes. “Do me a favor. Read it out loud.”

“Okay,” I said. “Move over.” We were sitting on my couch and after Suzanne shifted to the right to give me better access to my laptop, I leaned over my glass coffee table and started reading.

Physical attraction is, obviously, very important to me as it should be to you. I don’t expect every guy to think I’m hot but I would hope my boyfriend would. Similarly, you don’t have to be a GQ model but if we meet and I have no desire to kiss you much less see you naked at some point, it won’t work. I would say my physical type is tall, dark and handsome. And brains are a turn-on. If your brain is small, the size of other parts of your body is moot. I think a guy who knows his way around a computer is hot. I prefer someone quiet and reserved over loud and obnoxious as long as you know how to have fun. I love baseball and although I’d prefer to date a Yankee fan, as long as you’re not a Red Sox fan, we might make it through a baseball season without killing each other. My friends are extremely important to me and any guy I date will need the intelligence and sense of humor to fully comprehend how awesome they are and how fortunate he is to be granted access to the fold. His friends, pending approval, are welcomed too.

I turned away from the computer and looked at Suzanne who, in the 30 seconds it took for me to read my profile, had managed to tie her curly blonde hair up in a bun without even using a ponytail holder. It always amazed me how good she was with her hair. I didn’t acquire the coordination to put my hair into a simple ponytail until I went away to college and could no longer ask my mom. “I don’t see the problem,” I said.

“You don’t think it’s a tad bit specific?”

“I’m not sure I follow you,” I said.

Suzanne got up from the couch and stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. Then she held up one finger and said, “Tall, dark and handsome, huh?”

I nodded and said, “Yeah, so?”

Holding up two fingers, Suzanne said, “Knows his way around a computer, huh?”

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I’m technically-challenged. It might be convenient to date a computer geek!”

Three fingers up, she said, “Quiet and reserved?”

I pursed my lips and remained silent.

Very loudly, Suzanne said, “Stephanie. Unless Hille or his doppelganger subscribes to Match.com, I don’t think you need to join Match to find this person.”

I crossed my arms defensively and said, “Not true!”

“Name one thing on this profile that doesn’t describe Hille to a T.”

I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head and felt the color rise in my cheeks. Determined, I read the profile again. “Got it!” I wrote that I
preferred
a Yankee fan but anything except a Sox fan would be fine! That doesn’t limit it to Hille!”

Suzanne shook her head at me, turned around and walked towards my kitchen.

I knew she was right and followed her. Sitting at my kitchen table, I said, “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just have Hille on my mind, I guess.”

“If you’re gonna move on from this infatuation with Hille, you need to really move on,” Suzanne insisted. “He’s not the only guy in the world!”

I put my elbows on the table and covered my eyes with the palms of my hands for a few moments as I contemplated Suzanne’s statement. A few seconds later, I looked up and said, “You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right. And you’re right. Time to move on. If Hille wanted me to be his girlfriend, he would do something about it. But he hasn’t and so I must assume he’s not interested.”

Suzanne nodded in approval and I followed her back to the living room. “And, if he is interested, he needs to up his game,” she said. “Shit or get off the pot, ya know?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Except it couldn’t be just a coincidence that Hille called me just moments after Paul’s email. Why would he play hero like that and make me feel better if he didn’t like me? And besides, he was the one who suggested hooking up again. I had no intention of making two moves in a row and had resigned myself to just being friends until he offered to give me another orgasm!”

I waited for Suzanne to offer up an explanation that might make sense out of all of this, but she had turned the volume up on the TV and was no longer listening to me. That’s when I realized even the psycho-killing ‘un-sub’ of the week on “Criminal Minds” was probably thinking more clearly and I promised to change my profile again and renew my subscription as soon as possible.

And then my phone rang.