Last-Minute Love (Year of the Chick series) (3 page)

I pushed the paper away and glared at Neema. “You know I’m going to
be working this whole time...right?”

She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of tea. “You’ll have plenty of time once you come home from work.”

I just about growled as my rage bubbled over, but at the last second switched it to a cough. Calmer now, I cleared my throat to speak. “I got promoted last month and this job’s not that easy. I could be working late like twice a week...or maybe more.”

“Then learn how to multi-task,” she said casual
ly, as my fists tightly clenched into balls.

I exhaled as slowly as I could
, to expel this latest cycle of rage. And that’s when I had an idea, as my eyes suddenly filled with hope. “You should get a wedding planner!”

This was somehow the best punch-line ever, as my sister started laughing like one of those really loud drunk women in the audience of a comedy club.

My mother, sitting at the table now and frowning as usual, was kind enough to do the translation. “Wedding planning is a waste of money!  Everything is planned for free, IF the bride’s sister does a good job.” She nodded in my direction. “It’s a sign of respect.”

I almost spit out my tea as my father nodded in agreement. Sonny wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter, as he sensed my forthcoming demise.

All I could do was stare at the calendar hard until my eyes started to water, hoping all those blocks would somehow blur into nothing. When that didn’t work, I wiped my eyes and noticed one free block of time, which would quickly come and go in the next two weeks.

I quietly gasped.

Time for an emergency vacation...

Chapter Three

I
gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the planes take off.

Feeling a bit nervous, I rumma
ged through my bag until I pulled out a chocolate bar.

Then I went to town on it.

My best friend Laura was sitting across from me in the departure lounge, next to her tanned and luscious boyfriend Dave. Laura and I had survived our first jobs together after graduation, high up on the seventieth floor of a ruthless corporate monster. The only other things that could’ve brought us any closer would’ve been war...or lesbianism. At the moment my non-lesbian Laura watched me inhale the chocolate with a look of concern. “Romes, it’s nine a.m.”

“I’m stress-eating,”
I said between bites.

Laura’s
blonde curls and petite curvy body were the perfect match for Dave’s cropped dark hair and muscled frame. They were the cutest Italian-Canadian couple this side of Toronto.

They were also wearing matching blue T-shirts and jeans.

It was cute and revolting, actually.

Laura continued to look disturbed by
my now half-eaten chocolate bar. “Look, I know it’s not the best destination,” she said. “But you didn’t even give me two weeks’ notice. And I already had this planned!”

I crumpled up the wrapper
and squeezed it in my hand. “I honestly thought I could handle it...but now we’re just hours away and I’m not so sure. I mean NEW YORK? That’s me and James! I should’ve just gone somewhere alone.” I sighed.

Laura nearly leapt from
her chair and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Like where? Hawaii?! Where were you going to go with ten days notice? And how much money would you have blown when you’re supposed to be dreaming of Paris? Hmm?”
Oh right, I forgot about that pipe dream
. “Instead you’ve got four solid days in New York, with Dave’s company paying for the hotel.” She smiled. “AND you’ve got me. So maybe you don’t have James right now, but this can be our no-man trip!”

She
retreated back to her chair but I frowned. “How come YOU brought a man? Dave’s wang is a direct violation of the girls’ trip code.”

Dave,
looking slightly embarrassed, quickly rose from his chair. “I have to use the bathroom.” He walked away at a much more hurried pace than his usual swagger.

Laura shook her head at me disapprovingly.
“Don’t forget that his ‘wang’ is attached to his business trip and your free accommodations.”

I nodded
sarcastically. “Yes, yes, bow to the wang!” All I knew for sure was that this trip would need some memory-numbing alcohol.

New York, my new nemesis
...

***

A ninety-minute-and-counting delay later, we were still waiting around in the departure lounge. Dave had tuned out the world with his headphones, while Laura’s head was buried in the latest Hollywood gossip mag. Meanwhile I flipped the next page of “Eat Pray Love” with a snort. “Yeah, ‘cause you just waltz into Bali and magically find your soul-mate.”

Laura looked up from her magazine. “Isn’t that a true story?”

I rolled my eyes. “Wildly embellished, I’m sure.”

Laura’s expression suddenly changed. “So what did you tell your parents about this trip? It was pretty out of the blue and all.”

I smiled. “I said it was a business trip, like usual. This time they didn’t even blink; too much craziness and arguing over wedding preparations.”

“Looks like Bridezilla’s helping you out then.”

“Yeah...for now. Once I get home I’ll be her twenty-four-hour slave. Which means I better find a way to enjoy this trip.” I sighed. “Did I mention we’ll be needing alcohol?”

T
he intercom bell softly dinged, and a voice with a disturbing amount of cheer now called for us to board.

As we gathered our things
, Laura leaned in close to me when Dave wasn’t looking. “Just so you know you’re not a third wheel,” she whispered. I couldn’t tell if there was pity in her voice so I let her continue. “Seriously, he’s gonna be in meetings half the time, so what would I do without you? You’re helping ME out!”

I could tell it was real so I smiled. “
Either way, I know I’d never be a third wheel,” I calmly said. “I mean come on; you guys get four whole days of full access to this.” I waved my hands around my face and boobs and crotch as she laughed.

With that awkward display we were on our way.

One step closer to my New York nemesis…

***

Only a few hours later, we were standing inside the lobby of the Hilton in Midtown Manhattan. Everything was either shiny or plush. In both cases it felt expensive. So far I’d done a good job not comparing it to the hotel from December...where James and I had been...before we said goodbye.
Dammit!
It was way too soon in the day to forget him by getting drunk, so instead I looked around for anti-James like distractions. When I spotted the concierge my work was done.
He WISHES he could look like James.
This small man wore a boxy polyester Hilton vest, his tiny body compensated for with thick black voluminous hair. He smiled warmly at Dave. “The rooms are available, but unfortunately we couldn’t secure a corner view of the city,” he said. “They do include all the other amenities, however.”

I pushed past Dave and leaned against the counter.
I wasn’t exactly the portrait of seduction in a T-shirt and army-green capris, but it was worth a shot. “What if we waited patiently to get those rooms? How long would it take…Eduardo?” Whenever I’d seen movies of actors trying to seduce people in the service industry, they would always read the submissive maid’s or waitress’s nametag to get their way.

Eduardo smiled at me creepily, which told me the plan might work.
“If you wouldn’t mind waiting forty-five minutes…we could see.”
Yes!
I signaled for Dave to tip the guy as Laura looked on surprised.

“I already did all the work,” I whispered.
“I’m not gonna tip him too.”

I suddenly realized that not caring about meeting a new man---even if it meant feeling nostalgic for another---made me very easy-going in the moment
.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

We stepped out onto the insanely wide sidewalks made for giants (or more appropriately for masses of tourists), and spotted an entire army of food stalls. It seemed that hot dogs were the boring choice of the day, with Greek, Middle-Eastern and Italian specialties ruling the street corner.

Five minutes later we were standing in a tiny circle, devouring spicy food and emitting horrible breat
h. I finished the meal with a handful of breath mints to lessen the oral offense.
I’m not a savage, after all.

With more time to kill we strolled our way
over to FAO Schwartz, and my “man-free mini-break” began…

***

The noise of taxis honking was our Midtown soundtrack, on this hot and sunny mid-afternoon. With our bags now safely in our corner-window rooms (
thanks Eduardo!
), Dave led the way to a cab. I was too busy taking in the view to ask where we were going, but eventually I noticed all the signs for bustling Wall Street. Dave led us straight to a tall and shiny building, the world headquarters for an international investment group. It was one of those companies that had five last names in the title, which had surely resulted from an egotistical battle of the partners. Now I understood why I’d never remembered the name when Dave told me where he worked.
Five last names you can’t remember? That’s no way to advertise.

I followed Dave
and Laura through the gleaming revolving doors, having no idea what was next...

***

Fresh from a security pat-down and armed with our visitor’s badges, we stepped inside the polished brass elevator. The buttons looked at least gold-plated if not solid gold, and I seriously started to wonder if this was the cause for the American debt crisis.
Not that I’m complaining about the free hotel stay.
Maybe Dave had a reason to be here, but what was mine? As if I wanted to be around these stuffy corporate types.
I’m on vacation, dammit!

“I could’ve gone to the museum,” I said.

Dave pressed the button for the sixty-eighth floor. “My buddy works on this floor. He said he’ll share his office while I’m here, and the view?” He turned to me and smiled. “Just wait.”

I rolled m
y eyes. “You do realize that Laura and I used to work on the seventieth floor?” Dave’s smile quickly faded and he blushed.

As we emerged from the elevator,
I realized Dave had omitted a very important detail. He’d failed to tell me that the sixty-eighth floor was also where the CEO worked, as evidenced by another security guard. 

If you could call him that.

In reality I wasn’t exactly sure what this man would be able to “guard,” with his slow hobbled steps and seventy-five-year-old DNA. Despite all his shortcomings he offered me a nice warm smile so I smiled right back.

“Aren’t you something,
” he said.

At first I blushed. 

Then I felt a little creeped out.

B
ut mostly it was nice.

As I made my way past him I noticed two offices separated by a glass wall. One
was empty and dripped of everything CEO, from the giant mahogany desk to the shiny black leather couches.

The
other office, though smaller and a lot less grand, was nicer than any office I’d ever been in. One entire wall was glass, offering a stunning view of the best of Midtown.
So maybe Dave was right about the view.
A long sleek desk with stacks of neatly-arranged paper accounted for most of this office. There was also room for two leather chairs, as well as a man typing away at his computer. The bronzed nameplate on the door said “Erik Thomson.”
Pfft, who spells “Erik with a “K”?
My internal monologue remembered that my name was Romi and promptly shut its damn mouth. I couldn’t see much with Dave blocking my view, but the guy seemed like your typical corporate drone, only fancier in a pin-striped suit.
Investment banker? BORING.

Dave approached Erik’s desk with Lau
ra by his side, but I stayed where I was in the doorway.

“Hey Erik!” said Dave.

The man named Erik turned around in his chair, and produced the warmest smile you’d ever find in a cutthroat place like New York City. I suddenly noticed the presence of dimples in that smile...not that I cared, I was simply observant when it came to these things.

“
Ah Dave,” he said. “You made it!”

I furrowed my
brow at his voice, trying to figure out what that European accent was.
Dutch? German? Belgian?
I was clueless.

My confusion didn’t end with the accent. Erik wore glasses
which seemed like the epitome of banker nerdiness, but his light brown hair was all tousled like a rock star’s bed-head. He even had sideburns.

He rose from his chair
and buttoned his expensive-looking jacket, as his fancy cufflinks glistened in the afternoon sun. There was a time when I would’ve gotten all hot and bothered by the glisten of a cufflink, back in the days when Laura and I would hunt for wealthy bankers in the trendiest bars. But these days? All it did was remind me of what I no longer wanted to be.

Dave extended
his arm for a handshake, but Erik was having none of that. Instead it was a full-on man hug, as his frame of five-foot-eleven seemed to tower over Dave. With a perfect side view of Erik in the midst of this bromance moment, I had nothing else to do so I took a closer look. Erik’s impeccable suit was rather fitted from top to bottom. It reminded me of the way Ryan Gosling wore fitted suits at his movie premieres.
Drool...
On Erik this tailoring revealed a fit body. Like a runner.  It was nothing like James and his burly forearms, but it was nice in its own unique way. But wait: why was I comparing him to James? This guy and his never-ending man-hug were probably gay. And why on earth was James crossing my mind in this moment?
Get out, you Brit; you were only a nice idea! 

My internal struggle went on as Erik made his way to Laura. “You’re more beautiful than ever,
” he said warmly, in that still-so -mysterious accent. Their hug didn’t last quite as long as his hug with Dave.
He’s definitely gay.

When he pulled away from Lau
ra his pale blue eyes found the doorway, where I’d managed to silently lurk all this time. I shifted my gaze to the massive window, which spared me from making any eye contact. This was a no-man trip, after all.

“Oh Erik
, this is Romi!” Laura quickly pointed in my direction with both hands, in case he happened to get confused with all the other Romis wandering about the office. “We used to work together,” she continued. “But now we’re just best friends!”