Love and Miss Communication (24 page)

He placed enough money on the table to cover both of their breakfasts, then reached for his coat and stood up to leave.

“So I’ll call you later to arrange a date and time, okay?”

“I’m looking forward.”

He headed toward the door but turned around suddenly.

“So before I go, can I ask you, how is it you managed to escape reading tales of my bitter divorce?” He gave her a quizzical glance.

“Oh. That.” Evie giggled. “I haven’t been on the Internet for, um, let me think. Five months and counting.”

“Ah,” he said. “Evie Rosen, I knew I liked you from the minute we met.”

“Well, thank you,” Evie said gingerly. “Now, let me ask you something,”

“What’s that?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“The heiress of a cookie company doesn’t let her child have sweets?”

“That’s correct,” Edward responded, deadpan.

“Now I’ve heard everything,” Evie responded, with a playful smile.

When he was gone, Evie spontaneously pulled out her cell phone and dialed Headmaster Thane. She thanked him for his generous offer of full-time employment but politely declined, promising to stay on until the school’s building purchase was complete. Even though she dreaded facing Jamie, her conscience dictated that she wrap up the project. She owed that much to Tracy.

Although her friendships with Paul and Stasia were teetering, sitting alone with the remains of her Truck Stop Special before her, Evie couldn’t deny that the world felt wide open. She was going out with Edward, someone she’d secretly fantasized about since probably day one of meeting. She would find employment someplace totally out of the box to which she’d historically confined her future. Maybe she could actually make a go of decorating—though an apprenticeship with Julianne Holmes-Matthews was firmly off the table. Her Mrs. Robinson days were definitely over. And so, possibly, were her lawyering days.

# # #

Jamie was gnawing on his fingernails when Evie entered the office the next day. She hoped he’d lay low for a few days—and that after a weekend had passed, what had transpired between them wouldn’t seem as big of a deal. No such luck. She sat down at her desk and immediately began to work, or at least to pretend to. Thank God the gallery purchase was set to wrap by the end of the week and she’d be done with her Brighton commitment.

“Evie,” he whispered. “Can I talk to you outside?”

She didn’t look up from her papers.

“There is nothing to talk about,” she murmured. “Let’s just forget about it.”

“At least listen to me. I’m really sorry for what I did. It was not cool of me. I get it. I just thought we sort of had something. It sounds nuts, I know. But I can usually read chicks.”

“Jamie, please, Thane is in his office. I don’t want to discuss this now. Or ever.”

“Do you still want to see my room? I could show you pictures of our apartment like you asked.” He reached into his back pocket for his phone.

“No, no, no.” My god, had she really asked for that? No wonder he made a move on her. “I think you misunderstood what I was saying. I need to work, Jamie. I’m not taking the full-time job here, but I still have to finish up this contract.”

“My mom thought you were awesome, by the way.”

“Really?” she said, perking up her head.

No, Evie, focus.

“That’s nice,” she added, less enthusiastically.

The bell rang signaling the first period was starting in three minutes. Jamie gathered his book bag.

“I’m really sorry again, Evie. Are we cool?”

“We’re cool,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. He actually was a decent guy. If he was five years older and she was five years younger . . . maybe. What a home his mother could design for them. She pinched herself.

“We’re cool,” she repeated, and gave him back one of his signature salutes. “Eleanor’s lucky to have you. I hope you guys work things out.”

# # #

Edward and Evie’s first date was at the movies. She had a queasy feeling in her stomach all day before he came to pick her up. Had she built him up too much because she thought he was unavailable? Would she suddenly notice a bulging vein in his forehead or a mole with a hair sprouting out of it on his neck? Maybe he had permanent garlic breath or dropped French expressions into casual conversation. Paul was always her go-to friend for a pep talk before an anxiety-provoking date. He’d say something like “You’re hot, he’s hot, what’s the problem?” She didn’t have the nerve to call him though, especially to ask for help. If he rebuffed her, as she expected he might, she’d never be able to enjoy the date.

When she went down to the lobby to meet Edward, she recognized what a runaway train her mind had been on. Seeing him standing comfortably in his date attire, looking absolutely perfect, she actually did a double-take. His faded jeans hit his suede driving loafers at just the right spot. Under his three-quarter-length overcoat Evie could see a checked button-down shirt layered beneath a gray V-neck sweater. She was pleased to see he was wearing his horn-rimmed glasses. They kissed on the cheek.

“Hi there,” she said, feeling genuinely, butterflies-in-her-stomach, excited.

“Hi there,” he repeated. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Evie said casually, as though her black jeans, riding boots, and turquoise cowl-neck sweater weren’t the tenth outfit she tried on that day.

“Ready to go? I want to make sure we have time to get popcorn,” Edward said, touching her back.

“If we can’t have popcorn we might as well not even go,” Evie joked, feeling the tension melt from her shoulders. What a pleasure to be on a first date that wasn’t essentially an after-dark job interview.

The movie was a romantic comedy, as fluffy as cotton candy. Their fingers kept touching when they reached for popcorn at the same time until Edward finally grabbed her hand and teased, “Hey, stop taking my popcorn.” He didn’t let go for the rest of the movie, resting their clasped hands on his left thigh.

“Want to get some dinner?” he asked, when they were walking out of the theater.

“Definitely,” Evie said, stuffed from the popcorn. They wandered off hand in hand down Broadway until they found a sushi restaurant.

“So, are we telling Bette about this? The fact that we’re out on a date?” Evie asked as she lifted a piece of spicy tuna to her mouth. “I saw her twice this week but didn’t mention it. I guess I wanted to make sure we had some traction first.” She had, in fact, been dying to share the news of her date with Edward and it was taking tremendous restraint to keep it in.

“Traction, huh? I like the way you phrased that. It’s really up to you about telling Bette. But I’m pretty sure your grandmother will be quite pleased with herself,” Edward said, leaving Evie to question his meaning. Was he saying that her grandmother would be glad that her illness brought them together? That was almost definitely true.

“I’m going to tell her when I see her for lunch tomorrow. It’s
basically criminal to hide dating a doctor from a Jewish grandmother, really.”

“I think I learned that in Hebrew school.”

“Temple Israel? That’s where I learned to French kiss.” She popped an edamame into her mouth, loving the way she made Edward smile. She could get used to seeing that dimple every day. “After class, anyway.”

“Hebrew school must have a universal curriculum.”

“So, now that we’ve bonded over Hebrew school, you can tell me the truth. Have you ever left anything inside someone while doing surgery?”

“Not that I know of,” Edward said. “I did lose my cell phone once during a surgery. But I figure my patient would have complained if she woke up in the recovery room and her chest was ringing.”

Evie burst out laughing, an edamame bean nearly lodging in her throat.

“Ever commit malpractice?” he asked.

“Only once,” she said, after a few sips of water. “But the client really deserved it.”

“I’m sure you were totally justified.” Edward expertly lifted a biteful of seaweed salad with his chopsticks. Evie liked watching his surgical hands at work. “I have to say, I feel a little guilty having such a great time right now with all the craziness in the news today. I don’t think the cease-fire lasted more than two hours. Terrible, isn’t it? Over one hundred civilian casualities.”

Israel? Russia? Iraq? Evie didn’t even know which continent had a war going on. Without her morning perusal of
theSkimm,
she was utterly lost. She really needed to subscribe to an actual newspaper.

“Terrible,” she said, nodding vigorously. “I can’t even begin to talk about it.”

That bullet dodged, the rest of the date was sublime. They both agreed that desserts at Japanese restaurants were terrible, so after dinner they set out in search of ice cream in the crisp November weather. Thanksgiving was just a week away. She wondered what his plans were. Fran and Winston announced they were going on a one-week Galapagos cruise while the TWASPs celebrated with their mom. They invited Evie to join them, but she didn’t feel comfortable tagging along. Even Bette, a visitor in New York, had plans. An old friend of hers from the Baltimore Hadassah, now living in Brooklyn, had invited Bette to Thanksgiving dinner with her bridge group. Evie would probably join Caroline’s family for their Thanksgiving feast, where the food—all imported (even, inexplicably, the turkey)—had a shot of being as delicious as her last Turkey Day meal, which Jack cooked for the two of them. She was already dreading dinner at the Michaels’, knowing she would feel like an interloper, but it still beat sitting home alone.

“Do you want to see my apartment?” Edward asked, when they were walking with their ice cream cones. “I live just a few blocks from here.” He gestured beyond the triangular Apple Bank building, one of Evie’s favorite New York landmarks.

Evie busied herself licking the ice cream drips off the cone so it wouldn’t look like she was hesitating. The truth was that she wanted very badly to see where he lived and to do much more than that. But she didn’t know what was appropriate anymore on dates. She was out of the game. Besides her time with Jack, the last few years had been a string of get-to-know-you dates with total strangers, very few of which she had been inclined to take to the next level. Edward and she were already close, even though it was only now officially turning romantic.

“Sure, let’s go,” Evie said, trying to make it sound like she wasn’t vacillating.

Edward lived in a charming two-bedroom which occupied the full floor of a brownstone, located just five blocks north of Evie’s building. She liked that they shared a neighborhood. They could have passed each other countless times at the dry cleaners or pharmacy. But he probably lived someplace much fancier when he was with Georgina, and she preferred not to think about that time in his life.

His block was lined with town houses, and a few impatient owners had already put up holiday lights. New York City, with its bustling streets and infinite options for distraction, could still feel like the loneliest place in the world during the holidays. Manhattan was about to get lit up like a giant Christmas tree, and even the city’s most sensible, feet-on-the-ground inhabitants could lose themselves in the blinding lights. Evie wanted to lose herself in Edward. She hoped very much they would share the holiday season together.

“So this is it,” Edward said, taking her coat. “Let me give you a tour. Suggestions on how to improve the appearance are certainly welcome.”

He walked her through the living and dining room combo, the kitchen, his bedroom and finally Olivia’s room. With the exception of the little girl’s room, everything was neutral and lacked verve, like Edward had just ordered the pieces straight from a Pottery Barn catalogue. Olivia’s room, on the other hand, was magnificent. The carpet was wall-to-wall magenta, and the furniture was creamy lacquered wood. All the accents were done in rose-colored toile.

“This is stunning,” Evie said. “A dream room for a little girl.”

Edward blushed.

“Thanks, I tried to make it special for her. Even hired a designer to do this room. Too bad I didn’t know you then.”

“You did great, whoever you hired and whatever you did,” Evie said, reaching for his waist. She was surprised at herself for initiating physical contact in the apartment. But watching this gorgeous man exhibiting such obvious love for his daughter—it was very hot.

They started kissing. They shared soft, light pecks at first but both grew hungrier and more impatient. Edward tugged at her hand and she thought he was taking her to his bedroom. Instead he settled them on the living room couch, away from the prying eyes of Minnie Mouse and Dora the Explorer, who were perched on Olivia’s shelves.

He rubbed his hands up and down her back and she found herself hoping he would be more aggressive and reach inside her shirt. Her wish came true. He worked his hands to her chest and starting running the lace of her bra between his fingers. Evie gasped when he reached inside and began caressing her breasts.

His touch started off soft and sensual, but the pressure gradually increased until Evie felt like her breasts were melons being squeezed for ripeness.

She scooted away from him abruptly.

“Are you feeling for lumps?”

“What? No. Of course not.” He feigned shock.

Evie threw him an accusatory glance.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I was a little. It’s an occupational hazard. But I promise I’ll stop.” He raised his arms in the air like he was facing a police officer with a pistol drawn.

“Okay,” she said, and cracked a smile. It was pretty humorous, actually. A first date she’d certainly never forget. She relaxed and pulled him toward her. Edward planted a trail of gentle kisses from her collarbone to the top of her neck.

“I promise I know what I’m doing in this department,” Edward
whispered when he reached her ear. “And in checking for lumps, but I’m referring to, you know, this.” He continued to kiss her but she found herself stiffening again.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“So, did you feel anything? Lumps, I mean.”

“Nothing, I promise. But you really should go for a baseline mammogram now that you’re thirty-five.”

“I’m not thirty-five,” she exclaimed. “I’m thirty-four and a half,” she faintly added.