He was walking back across the street when Lennie caught him by surprise, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned. Another surprise.
She was clad in black from head to toe. Black shoes, black jeans, black turtleneck, black leather jacket, black beret. She reminded him of a ninja, or a cat burglar—a very attractive cat burglar. Her lipstick was deep berry red. She looked so different from last Sunday, when she’d looked different from the first time they met. He assumed what she was wearing was fashionable. “Funky,” she called it. But he wasn’t sure he liked it. Still, the lipstick . . . it made her lips look full, delectable.
“Hey.” She was cheery as they continued across the street. “Oh, wow, is that coffee? Can I have a sip?”
“Of course.”
He handed his coffee to her. She took a sip.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Only a few minutes.”
They made it to the corner, and stopped. Lennie gestured behind her at the flea market, a big grin on her face. “Surprise.”
“Yes, surprise,” Sebastian murmured, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as he was feeling.
“I heard this place was great. I’m hoping I can find some good stuff. Maybe you can too.”
Good stuff? He doubted it.
Lennie grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the first row of vendors. She liked being the aggressor, he realized. He wasn’t used to it at all. Wasn’t it the job of the man to pursue? And yet, there was something about her audacity that turned him on just a little.
Lennie headed straight for a stall selling secondhand clothing. “Shall we look?” she asked Sebastian.
“You look.” He glanced at his watch. “There’s something I need to do. I’ll meet you back here in thirty minutes?”
Lennie looked disappointed. “Oh. Okay.”
“I don’t want you to feel rushed with me standing here,” Sebastian explained. A white lie.
Lennie shrugged. “Okay.” She shyly kissed his cheek. Sebastian chuckled, pulling his sunglasses down so she could see the wink he gave her. Lennie turned happily to the nearest rack of clothing as he made his escape.
He
took a walk, reveling in the city’s sights, sounds, and smells. Bought a hot pretzel for himself, which he enjoyed immensely. When he got back, Lennie was waiting for him, holding two big shopping bags.
“You will not believe the great stuff I got!” she said breathlessly. “Wanna see?”
“Of course.”
Each item she pulled from the bags was worse than the previous one. A faux leopard coat with a long tear in the right sleeve. A sleeveless top covered in yellow sequins, half of which were missing. Stretched out, faded T-shirts. A handbag that looked like something his grandmother used to carry when she did her daily shopping. He couldn’t hold his tongue.
“I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Lennie asked, folding items and carefully putting them back in the bags.
“Why would you spend good money on someone else’s old clothing? If you don’t have money to buy clothes, I will gladly lend you some, no problem. But this trash . . .”
“Excuse me?”
Sebastian rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. “How can I explain? You never lived under Communism, where no one had anything, and what we did have, we had to fix and recycle and repair. Nothing new. It was terrible.
“And then things changed, and finally people could buy things. New things, new clothing, not clothing that was old and out of fashion. What a luxury!” He gestured at her bags. “That is why this perplexes me. Why are you shopping for clothing as if you were poor? Why are you buying garbage? That coat is ripped. Who wants someone else’s ripped coat when you can buy a new coat? Do you see?”
Lennie took his hand. “Just because something is old or used doesn’t mean it’s trash, Sebastian. I like old clothes. They inspire me. They’re fun to mix and match. Ever hear the saying ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’? This might seem like junk to you because of where you come from, but to me, it’s kind of fuel for the creative fire. Plus, to be blunt, I don’t want to look exactly like everyone else.”
“Believe me, you don’t.”
Lennie’s face fell, and Sebastian immediately felt awful. “No, no, don’t look sad. I meant it as a compliment,” he assured her, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. “You are a unique-looking woman, Lennie. And not because you insist on wearing these—things.” Without realizing it, he had moved so close to her that her face was almost blurred. He took a step back in an effort to ward off the rush of romantic feelings engulfing him. “I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
“It’s okay. It was kind of interesting hearing your opinion, actually. Cultural differences, I guess.”
“Would you like to continue looking around?” Sebastian offered.
Lennie laughed. “You’d hate that! No, it’s okay.”
“You are sure?”
“Yes, I swear.”
He didn’t want their outing to end so fast. He supposed they could figure out another tourist attraction they could explore together, but what he really wanted was to just sit and talk with her—privately, quietly.
“Would you like to go back to my apartment for coffee?”
Lennie looked pleased. “Yeah, I would really love that.”
“Good.”
“You live on the Upper West Side, right?” Sebastian nodded. “What’s the address?”
Perplexed, Sebastian told her, watching as she pulled out a subway map from her rather sizable shoulder bag.
“What are you doing? We’ll take a cab.”
“But I can’t aff—”
“I can.” He took her hand. “No worries. C’mon.”
Five
“I’m sorry. I don’t have much furniture yet.”
Lennie couldn’t believe macho, opinionated Sebastian sounded sheepish as he ushered her into his apartment. Always the gentleman, he was carrying her bags from the flea market. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. He was probably grumbling inwardly about toting trash around.
“Let me take your coat.”
Lennie shucked her black leather jacket and handed it to him, giving her a chance to take in his place as he hung their coats in the closet. He wasn’t kidding about the sparsity: the only furniture in the room was a large, white sectional couch, a brass and glass coffee table, and the biggest high-def TV she’d ever seen. Such a guy space.
“Sit, sit,” Sebastian urged. “I’ll go make us coffee.”
“It won’t be much fun for me sitting here alone! I’ll come with you; we can talk while you’re making it.”
“Sounds good.”
She followed Sebastian into the kitchen. There was a small table there, atop which some Russian-language newspapers were scattered. An image flashed in her mind of him lingering over the paper at breakfast.
Coffee at her aunt’s house was strictly a drip affair: boil water in a teakettle on the stove, pour it into a filter filled with grounds, watch it drip into a glass carafe. But sitting on Sebastian’s marble counter was a sleek, modern coffee machine. Sebastian caught her looking at it and patted the top of it proudly.
“Krups. One of the best brands. It’s programmable; it makes both coffee and espresso.”
“Wow.”
“Which would you like?”
“Plain coffee is fine, thanks.”
Sebastian nodded, and set about making their coffee. Lennie was struck by how proud he was of this simple (or not so simple) kitchen appliance. To him it symbolized success. Choice.
“Your apartment is really nice.”
“Thank you,” Sebastian said, looking pleased. “I especially like it because the street is quiet.”
“I wish where I lived was quiet,” Lennie replied enviously. “My aunt’s apartment is on the second floor right in the front of the building. I hear every car alarm, backfiring truck, and loud drunk who passes by.”
Sebastian looked uncomfortable. “Your aunt . . .”
“I know what happened. And I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal. I was more worried it would make trouble for you.” He tapped the side of his head. “She’s touched, yes?”
Lennie laughed loudly. “I guess you could say that. She’s got a good heart, though, you know?”
“That bird . . .” Sebastian shook his head. “He’s crazy too.”
“Well, he mimics her.” Lennie swallowed. “I’ll make sure my aunt doesn’t bother you again, I promise.”
“Don’t fret. I can handle your aunt.”
“I’m glad one of us can.” Lennie gestured at the papers. “You must miss home.”
“Yes and no. I miss my family, and some of my friends. But I don’t miss”—he seemed to be searching for the right word—“ how behind the times it still is in some places. Except in Moscow. You can get almost anything you want there now—designer clothes, expensive jewelry, Mercedes—it’s amazing.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I like to keep up with what’s going on.”
“Do you like it here in the States?”
Sebastian looked shocked by the question. “Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t? It’s an amazing place.”
Lennie just nodded, recalling how when she was younger and traveling around Europe, she thought Europe was so superior to America. But hearing someone talk about the States who hadn’t grown up here made her realize how much she took it for granted.
The coffee finished brewing, and they went back into the living room to sit on the couch—very close together, Lennie noticed. The sexual tension was thick, and was rapidly becoming unendurable as want of him began singing through her body. Never shy, she decided to take the bull by the horns: she put her coffee down and wrapped her arms around him. She looked into his eyes, then fused her mouth to his. She could tell he was shocked—but not too shocked to return her ardor and pull her tighter to him, kissing her senseless.
Sebastian held his breath for a moment. Then, ever so gently, he took her by the shoulders to look in her eyes.
“You’re very forward, you know that?”
Lennie dipped her head to kiss the top of his hand, her gaze still seductive. “Do you dislike it?”
“No. But it makes me a little uncomfortable. I need to get used to it.”
Lennie felt humiliation twist through her. “You think I’m a slut.”
Sebastian’s eyes popped. “Are you crazy? I think you’re wonderful and beautiful.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the mouth. “But I want to—what is the word?—savor.”
Savor. That meant he still wanted to see her. Lennie was relieved, but she still wanted him to verbalize some kind of commitment. “So we’re going out, then?”
Sebastian chuckled. “It would seem that way.”
“Not exactly what you were looking for when you posted on Craigslist,” Lennie noted sardonically.
“I didn’t know ‘New to New York’ would be so beautiful and interesting, did I?”
Lennie coughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, about that.” Time to come clean. “I’m not really ‘New to New York.’ I mean, I’m new to the city, like you, but I’m not the woman who responded to your ad.”
Sebastian looked highly amused. “So you just pretended to be her and sat and talked to me?”
“Yes.”
“What would you have done if she’d shown up?”
“Been mortified, I guess.”
“Well, obviously things worked out the way they were supposed to, yes?”
“I felt a connection to you right away. Does that sound nuts?”
“Yes.”
She playfully smacked his arm. “Thanks a lot!”
“I’m just teasing.” Sebastian put his forehead against hers, sighing. “Are you going to hide this from your aunt?”
“No. She’s just going to have to deal with it. I’m allowed to have a life.”
“Maybe you should have me over sometime, so she can see I’m not a vodka-swilling Communist.”
“Let’s wait on that a bit.”
“All right.”
“So . . . can we at least make out a bit?” Lennie asked shyly.
Sebastian cocked his head. “Make out?”
“You know, kiss passionately for a while.”
Sebastian grinned. “That sounds good.” He wrapped his arms around her. “
Ti takaya krasivaya
. You are so beautiful.”
Lennie instantly choked up. “No one has ever said that to me before.”
“Then you’ve dated fools.”
“Pretty much.” She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. “Again, I’m sorry for coming on so strong. I just—you’re so se xy—”
“I know I am. You don’t need to explain.”
“Jerk!” Lennie said affectionately.
“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Sebastian nipped her neck. “Please burn those rags you bought.”