The Black & The White (31 page)

“
No way!” I said
emphatically. I wanted to make it clear that I was single. “He’s
just a good friend. That other guy is my boss, and that other guy
is a friend of that guy,” I said, pointing to every man at the
table. “That’s one of my best friends, Carin.” Carin waved as I
pointed to her.

“
Well, so, what do you do?”
he asked.

“
I work in finance,” I
responded humbly. “And you? You work in finance too?” I pretended
not to know who he was. I wanted to separate myself from the girls
I was sure were just interested him because he was famous. It was
true. Although there was part celebrity intrigue, I was genuinely
attracted to him.

“
Wow! I wouldn’t have
guessed you work in finance. I thought you were a model,” he
said.

Andrew had gotten up and left, not
waving goodbye to me. I knew he had to go back to work and close
out the books.

“
You’re sweet. Thanks.” I
felt myself blushing again. “You? Are you from here?” I
asked.

“
For now, I guess. I’m here
filming a movie. I live in LA, but love New York. But listen. Your
friends are boring a hole in my back. You probably should get back
to the table. Call me. Actually, can I get your number?” he
asked.

“
Oh, yeah. Well, right.” I
paused. “Why don’t I just call you?” I said.

David took the postcard from my hand
and pointed to his number. “It’s my personal number. Call me
sometime.”

“
You have more than one
number?” I asked, flirtatiously.

David smiled. “You don’t want the
other number. You won’t get ahold of me.”

He leaned over to give me a kiss on
the cheek. “I’ll just wait to hear from you. It was nice to meet
you, Isabelle.”

I had admired celebrities in clubs
with Kim, at the movies, walking on the streets of New York, in
restaurants. They were everywhere. But none of them had ever paid
any attention to me. He had given me his number! I wanted to jump
up and down.

“
That guy is a fucking
loser!” Stephen’s said when I got back to the table. He leaned back
in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe
it!” Stephen said, taking a sip from his vodka. “He even has a big
nose!”

“
He’s got a cool job too,” I
said, smirking.

“
God, Isabelle. I wish I was
twenty-two years old and excited about the world like you,” Carin
said as she poured the last drops of champagne into her
mouth.

“
What are you talking about,
Carin?” I asked.

“
I used to give a shit about
these people. Now, I’m either too old to care or just too ugly to
bother.” She chortled.

“
Or hardened by New York,” I
said.

“
Oh, God, no!” Carin said.
“But you’re probably right. It happens to the best of us. Live here
long enough and you won’t give a shit about anything anymore. I
used to though.”

Stephen paid the bill. “I thought we
had more Bellinis than that,” he said, looking at the
tab.”

“
This is awesome,” Carin
said, looking at the bill. “A lunch bill with a comma.”

“
Only for you, baby,” I
smiled at Carin. I had seen larger lunch tabs. I continued to sip a
Bellini.

Stephen had already called for a car
service to come to pick us up and take us all to our next
destination, a place called SoHo House. It was a private social
club in the trendy Meatpacking District, whose members were mostly
celebrities and people in film.

“
I better not lose you to
him,” Stephen said to me as we pulled away from West Broadway in
SoHo.

“
What’s this ‘lose me’ crap,
Stephen?” I asked.

I didn’t want to tell him that I found
him more attractive than David—that I had a crush on him, not on
David.

Our car pulled up to the
club.

“
Holy shit!” Carin said as
she took inventory of the crowd at the club. “Who would have
thought this little jewel could exist in New York,
right?”

Carin had worked very hard her first
few years in the city and had never had the chance to explore many
of New York’s hidden gems. Right then, I felt fortunate to have
known Stephen. He had provided a social life for me I wouldn’t have
otherwise experienced.

Giovanni and his girlfriend pulled up
in a taxi, yelling, “Dude, wait for us!”

We all walked past the front desk with
ease. One of the female attendants greeted Stephen by name. Stephen
signed the guest book and added three guests. Then we made our way
to the elevator, which was padded with green cushions.

“
They must have known a
crazy group was coming. Padded walls.” I said teasingly as I
slapped the walls with the palm of my hand.

Giovanni started to throw his body
around, banging himself against the padded walls of the elevator. I
hoped he would injure himself.

The club was decorated in retro,
tastefully kitschy modern 1970s style. Chandeliers made from a
collection of bendable desk lamps were creatively hooked together
to form a larger centerpiece of a chandelier. The poolroom in the
far back was dark and smoky, reserved for the nicotine
inhalers.

Stephen came to sit down next to me on
the Chesterfield sofa next to the bar with drinks in each hand. He
seemed indifferent to the celebrity crowd around us.

Keanu Reeves and a few, fellow costars
from his recent movie hovered around the bar. The exclusive,
private club was famous for having celebrities as
patrons.

Stephen ordered a bottle of Cristal
champagne as we waited for Andrew to arrive from work. I had hoped
he wouldn’t come, but Carin was insistent on his presence. When he
did arrive, Andrew and Carin immediately began talking and
flirting.

Carin left to go to the ladies room
and I followed. I wanted to see if she was okay with Andrew talking
to her incessantly. Carin gestured a fainting motion. “Andrew is
talking dirty to me. He’s got me all hot and bothered,” she
said.

I didn’t know what to say, except to
tell her to be careful.

Her response was to say, “Worry about
yourself…Stephen is dangerous. Danger boy.”

I wondered what she meant by
that.

“
I know what is going on
there. And don’t lie, Isabelle. It’s different when emotions are
involved.”

When we got back to the table Stephen
gestured for me to sit next to him. When I did, he wrapped his arms
around my shoulders.

“
Dude, everyone here is
fucking hot. You always know where to find the hot chicks,”
Giovanni said to Stephen. His arms were wrapped around his
girlfriend, who seemed bored.

As the evening progressed, Giovanni,
as usual, became increasingly belligerent. “How much you pay for
that rack?” He asked the waitress. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”
Giovanni screamed as the waitress turned around and ignored
him.

I looked at Stephen. It was time for
everyone to leave.

Giovanni threw his body against the
leather-padded elevator walls for several floors. Then, in his
stupor, he unzipped his fly and began to pee on the elevator
wall.

Stephen tried to stop him. “Dude, put
that away! You’ll have us thrown in jail,” but it was too
late.

As the crowd left the elevator, I
gestured to Stephen that I was going upstairs to use the ladies
room and would meet him outside. I did not want to be associated
with Giovanni or be seen in his company. I went upstairs and did a
few lines of coke. I always felt better when I did them.

When I stepped outside, Giovanni and
his girlfriend were nowhere to be found. They had left in their
broker-sponsored town car. Carin and Andrew had also
left.

“
Everyone left me,” Stephen
said, wearing an exaggerated frown on his face. “Want to grab a
drink or do you want me to take you home?”

We had been drinking for nearly nine
hours. I was curious where everyone had gone but didn’t really care
because I was with Stephen. Meanwhile, Jeffrey had called four
times and left two voicemails. I told myself I would call him
later.

“
We’ll grab one drink, but
then I need to go home. You do too, Stephen,” I said.

“
Don’t tell me you’re going
to talk to that loser, David, after you ditch me,” Stephen replied.
I like that I had affected him so much, but by then I had nearly
forgotten I had met the actor.

When the Mercedes car service pulled
up, Stephen opened my car door to let me in.

“
Aww, thanks, sweetie,” I
said affectionately.

“
See, I learn fast.” He
seemed proud of himself.

“
You’re so pretty.” He
leaned his head back against the leather headrest. He tilted his
head toward me and gave me a soft kiss on the lips.

“
You’re really not going to
call David, are you?” he asked.

At that moment, all I wanted to do was
take him in my arms. Instead, I replied, “I don’t know. We’ll see
how I feel tomorrow.”

“
Want to see something?”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he turned on the car light
and rolled up one sleeve of his salmon-colored button-down shirt.
Prominently displayed on his upper arm was a big bruise.

“
Oh no! What happened? Your
wife really has a good left hook,” I said, smirking.

“
Mazzochi wrestled me in a
restaurant yesterday. He tackled me and I fell back on the chair.
We got kicked out of that place.”

We headed to a bar in midtown called
Tao. In the center of the barroom, surrounded by water and plants,
was a large display of a gold Buddha that sat approximately fifteen
feet high, further lit by lamps to increase its prominent display.
Although I was Christian, my grandmother was Buddhist. I remembered
going to temple with her, burning incense and bowing our heads down
to the golden Buddha encased in glass. Candles, flowers, incense,
and monks surrounded the temple. Periodic gongs would sound, often
startling me. There was something about going to temple that was
cathartic, peaceful, and wholesome. Then I thought of Kim and the
ashes of the incense I had seen next to her statue of Buddha. I
started to feel vacuous, devoid of spirituality. Although the
Buddha in front of me there was decorative, it stirred something in
me that wasn’t pleasant.

Stephen held my hand all the way to
the top of the stairs as I considered my thoughts. I felt
comfortable with him holding my hand as he escorted me to the bar
in the back of the restaurant. The loft of the bar overlooked the
patrons who ate below.

“
I love your hair!” Stephen
said as he ran his fingers through my straight hair before pausing
to smell it.

“
Thanks baby,” I replied and
gave him a hug. I felt my body warm up inside, excited at the
thought of touching his lips again.

“
Did I tell you that you
kiss really well?” Stephen said. I was increasingly turned on.
Stephen brushed my hair out of the way and then covertly and gently
kissed my neck.

I excused myself to the bathroom.
“Where is it again?” I asked. I wanted to stay out longer and knew
that I needed a bump to keep me up.

Stephen finished the last drop of wine
from his glass. “I’ll take you there. I have to go also.” He
wrapped his fingers around mine and escorted me downstairs. “Wait,”
Stephen stopped me on the wooden steps. “I just want you to know
that I think you are perfect.” He then took my hand and kissed
it.

“
You want to kiss me again,
don’t you?” I said teasingly.

“
I always want to,” he said.
I hadn’t quite been prepared for that answer.

We both went into the ladies room, and
he pushed me into one of the stalls and closed the door. He pinned
me against the wall with my hands above my head and tried to kiss
me, but we were both so drunk, we missed each other’s mouths at
first. He let go of my arms and grabbed my head under my hair with
one hand and placed his other down the back of my pants. He moved
me closer to his body with his left hand. I felt him erect against
my thigh. He then tilted my head and began to tickle my ears with
his tongue as he traced every fold.

Suddenly, I heard someone run into the
stall next to us. It was only when it was clear that she had
diarrhea that we stopped kissing.

“
That’s so funny!” we
whispered as we laughed together at the crudeness of the
lady.

“
Ahhhh,” she said in
relief.

More thundering noises were audible.
Neither Stephen nor I could stop laughing, as we tried to control
ourselves. We didn’t want to make the lady aware of us in the stall
adjacent to hers.

A second sound of relief—”Ahhhh”—was
followed by a strange squeaking sound.

“
On the count of three,”
Stephen whispered in my ear, “let’s run out of here before she
does.”

We counted to three and darted out of
the bathroom. The attendant had returned from her break and stood
outside of the bathroom. Still holding my hand, he escorted me up
the staircase. We continued to laugh as we walked back to our
seats.