Disillusion Meets Delight (8 page)

“What’s a chocolate cake shot?”  I ask hot dark haired guy.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it. It tastes like chocolate cake.  You’ll see.”  As he reassures me, he nudges me with his shoulder.  He smells so good.  Let’s evaluate the situation here shall we?  Hot man, dark hair, good body and great hygiene: he must be a man-whore.  He is way out of my league, yet he seems interested in me.  How can this be?  This guy is never interested in me.  They usually go for Jenna because she is hot and flirty or Mya because she is cute and quirky.  I am the normal one that ends up as the ugly friend.  Yes, I know that I am not ugly, but when you are out with a group of friends it’s kind of like gym class.  Each guy picks the chick he is going to pursue.  The hottest guy of the group picks his girl first and so forth.  When the ugliest guy picks his girl, it is the “ugly friend.”  I am not throwing myself a pity party.  That’s just the way it is.  So you will understand if I am rather surprised at tonight’s turn of events.  Never mind that I am the only single girl at the table, guys don’t care about that.   

“So, you have bought us both drinks but not introduced yourselves.  Who are you?”  Mya asks as she wipes the sugar off her mouth from the chocolate cake shot.  By the way, they do taste like chocolate cake. 

“I’m Jake.”  He replies reaching out to shake our hands.  As our hands meet, he takes mine and kisses the top of it.  Holy shit what is this guy doing?  He doesn’t
seem
drunk.  We find out the other guy is originally from here but lives in Dallas and works for some high tech company.  Mya is entertained by him, which works out well for me because Jake and I are really enjoying our own conversation. 

“So, are you from here as well?”  I ask him.  By this time, he has bought me two Cosmos and a chocolate cake shot.  Any sort of nervousness I may have had has gone out the window and I think I am officially drunk. 

“I have lived here for about four years but I’m originally from Anchorage.  I like women far too much to live in a state that has a drought of them.  About a year ago I spent 6 months in Ireland working on a project for my company, which was cool but I like it here.  Do you travel?”  He asks as I lose myself in his deep brown eyes. 

“My mother is from England so we go every couple of years.  I really like it there because it’s so close to so many other countries.  When I was fourteen, my parents let me go to Austria with my two older cousins.  That was the first time I ever took a shot of anything.  I thought I was going to cry.  It was fabulous.”  Oh my god I am so drunk.

The last call bell rings and Mya and I realize that it is time for us to leave.  I don’t want to leave though.  I have had such an amazing conversation with Jake that I could stay with him for hours.  He is smart and worldly and most importantly, seems interested in me.  As we start to get up, we both look at each other wondering what the other is going to do.  Is he going to ask for my phone number?  What if I never see him again and it is left up to fate? 

“Give him your number.”  Mya hisses in my ear.  Let’s get one thing clear.  I have never given a guy my phone number, not voluntarily at least.  It’s not that I’m old fashioned, I just don’t ever make the first move like that.  Oh, what the hell do I have to lose?  If I’m ever going to meet someone, I think I am going to have to become more aggressive. 

“I’m giving you my number so humor me, okay?  Oh and my name isn’t Katy, it is Natalie.”  I tell him as I wince. 

“Yeah, you guys started calling each other your real names after the second drink.  I figured you were doing the fake name thing.  That’s cool.”  He says as he gets his cell phone out and puts my number in it.  He says that he will call me.  Maybe he will call me, maybe he won’t but I made a breakthrough and that’s what really matters. 

Ian walked into the emergency room and straight to the desk looking for Maggie.  The girl working didn’t look a day over 18 and seemed more interested in her magazine than him but finally told him that Maggie was in a room down the hall.  He could hear her voice two rooms away and knew that she must be fine after all. 

“Ian!  I’m so glad you’re here!  This is my friend Becky and her mom Sacha.”  Becky looked like the typical teen.  She wore a sweater that donned the Abercrombie label with a perfectly matching baseball cap that displayed perfectly parted pigtails.  She was a bit taller than Maggie and was rather skinny but seemed nice. Her mother had raven hair and pointy features.  Even during the wee hours, her makeup was immaculate and her clothes did not bear a single wrinkle.  She was intimidating and Ian felt as though she was looking down on him as though he were a pauper.  Ian rarely felt that way around anyone.  He made a very decent living and he also came from a well to do family.  Perhaps it was the fact that he smelled of alcohol that made Mrs. Johnson look at him in an unflattering manner.

“It’s nice to meet both of you.  Thank you so much for taking care of Maggie.  She is very lucky to have such a nice friend.”  Ian felt a bit of ass kissing may be due. 

“Yes, well, it was not a bother.  Immediate care was necessary so that is what we did.  It’s rather unfortunate that we interrupted your evening, however.”  Sacha stated and Ian felt that it was more of a dig rather than remorse. 

“Yeah Ian, I’m sorry that you had to cut your night short.  Ian never goes out with the guys.  It was supposed to be a night off from me.”  Maggie stated.  She also had apparently sensed Mrs. Johnson’s cold reception of Ian.  It was nice that she was trying to stick up for him, Ian thought.

“Maggie, it really isn’t a big deal.  I was ready to come home anyway.  It’s just not my scene anymore.”  Ian replied, which was the truth.  Of course Becky’s mother undoubtedly saw it as a line.  At this point, he could have cared less.  He was just ready to go home and sleep this night off.  Ian knew he was a good caretaker of Maggie and was told by her on many occasions. 

“Well, I think we have finished all of the paperwork so I think it’s time to get out of here.  Thanks again for all of your help.  Maybe Becky would like to stay next weekend with Maggie.”  Ian offered, hoping that his cordialness would earn him some points.  Instead, Mrs. Johnson gave a polite smile that really told him there was no way her daughter would go anywhere near his house of testosterone.  She hustled Becky through the doors and at one point Ian thought she had done a bit of a jog.  He thought rich people from D.C. could be uptight!  They were nothing compared to Mrs. Johnson. 

“I’m sorry if I gave your friend’s mom a bad first impression.  I guess I didn’t expect to meet her after taking numerous shots of god knows what.”  Ian explained to Maggie as they drove out of the hospital parking lot.

“It’s okay Ian.  I think it may be my fault kind of.  She heard me telling you to wear a condom today.  She’s a little uptight.  I don’t know if she likes me very much either.”  Maggie told Ian as she picked at her cast. 

“She doesn’t seem to like anybody.  Has she ever cracked a smile?  The room was arctic just from her presence.”  Ian and Maggie laughed.  He knew it wasn’t nice to make fun of people, especially when he didn’t really know them but he couldn’t help it.  She prejudged him before she knew him so it was only fair. 

“Ian, I really am sorry about tonight.  Did you meet anyone nice?”  Maggie asked as they got out of the car and walked into the house. 

“No, not really.  I don’t think I am going to meet the woman of my dreams in a bar.”  Ian replied.

“You’re probably right.  Maybe you will meet her in a video store.”  Maggie replied back with a meddlesome giggle. It was funny because for some reason, Ian had been thinking about video store girl tonight as well.  In fact, he almost thought he saw her but it was dark and after a few shots, people start to look the same.  He hadn’t seen her for a while which makes sense. Why would he?  It was crazy odds that their paths crossed like they did anyway.  Besides, she hated him and he didn’t think he was that fond of her to be honest.  She was high strung and had terrible taste in films.  Yet Ian still found himself thinking of her and as usual, he had no idea why. 

As Mya and I got in our cab to go home, I felt elated.  I knew that I would never see the hot Ben Affleck guy again but it had been a long time since a hot guy wanted to buy
me
drinks.  It was a great ego booster.

“See Natalie, we have you going home before 4 A.M. just as I promised.  Did you have fun?”  Mya asks as she pulls the hair pins out of her hair.

“You know what Mya, I did.  In fact…”  My thought was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.  Could it be?  No way is he calling me now.  I scramble through my purse to see an unknown number on my caller id.  Holy crap!

“Natalie, answer your phone!”  Mya squeals while jumping up and down in her seat.

“Hello?”  I say in my best cool and calm voice. 

“Hey, is this Natalie?”  Oh my god his voice is just as sexy as his face.  Deep breaths take deep breaths and don’t say anything stupid.

“Yes, it’s me.” I reply, still trying to do the deep breaths.

“Hey you.  It’s Jake.  I know I’m breaking ten million of my own rules by calling you, but I just wanted you to know that I really enjoyed tonight and if you want to call me tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee or something.”  I can’t believe this.  A hot guy wants to have coffee with me, just coffee, not a one night stand, just coffee!  Granted, a one night stand would be nice but coffee is better.  Coffee is more respectable and doesn’t make you feel cheap afterwards.  Coffee doesn’t require high expectations and extensive wardrobe evaluations.  Well, you get the picture.

“That sounds great.  So, I will talk to you tomorrow then.”  And with that, I ended my phone call with hot Ben Affleck guy feeling complete and utter bliss.  In fact, I feel fabulous. 

As the cab dropped Mya and I off, I floated across the street to my apartment and pranced around for a few minutes in my pajamas.  After all, I did have quite a few drinks purchased for me.  It’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.  Of course, when my alarm went off the next morning, I didn’t feel so fabulous.  In fact, I felt like complete and utter crap.  Yes, I had a hangover and it was going to become worse as I was spending the morning with my mother and the Wellingtons.  Thank goodness for my top of the line coffee maker.  Have I mentioned how much I love coffee? 

After addressing the dark circles under my eyes with my favorite concealer, I decided that I would wear my new pink turtleneck from Ann Taylor with my crème colored slacks.  Since I was with the “Snooties”, I would wear my “alligator" brown loafers.  To finish off the ensemble, I would wear my new tan trench coat from London Fog.  I have to say for someone that feels like a truck just ran her over, I look remarkable. 

I stand in front of my mirror for what some would consider a narcissistic length of time until my phone rings, which is of course my mother.

“Natalie, darling, you never called me to let me know what you were going to wear.  So, what are you going to wear?  We can’t possibly wear the same thing.”  My mother states, as if we would ever end up wearing the same outfit.  She is a 57 year old, lovely but uptight, wool dress suit and pearl necklace wearing fuddy duddy.  I am a twenty something, low rise pants and hoop earrings, up for anything girl.  Well, almost anything.  Have I mentioned yet, that I would rather be playing bingo with senior citizens than going to brunch?  Yes, I thought so. 

So I pull into to my mother’s driveway at exactly 10:05.  That gives us five minutes to have frantic chit chat and for my mother to prance hysterically around the house and then twenty minutes to get to the restaurant.  It is actually a ten minute drive to the restaurant but we need to allow an extra ten minutes just in case we get behind a slow driver or there is extra traffic that was not anticipated, which is a contradiction because we will anticipate it.  How can I still question where I learned to be neurotic? 

“Natalie!  Quick, which shoes look better with this dress?”  My mother asks, lifting up each leg so that I don’t get an altered perception of what each shoe would look like.  Some people would put on the same pair of shoes, ask what they look like, take them off and continue the routine with the second pair of shoes.  However, this is my mother and she does things her way, it’s a better use of time she says.  I say that if one is so busy that one cannot take ten seconds to try on two pairs of shoes, then it’s time to pack it up and take a nap because that person is far too busy.  What do I know though, I am just a child. 

“Mother, both shoes look the same!  Just wear those.”  I respond pointing downwards, not really making a decision favoring either one. 

“Which shoes, Natalie?  Seriously darling, you cannot make a decision to save your life.  I suppose I will just wear these.”  My mother says as she rolls her eyes and you wonder why bingo sounds so blissful.