Last-Minute Love (Year of the Chick series) (22 page)

***

The city soundtrack quieted down as more and more trees surrounded us. It was a serene feeling in a city otherwise jacked on speed.

Because of the unseasonably warm weather, most of the snow had melted
, except for some small dirty mounds between the trees. Our own path was muddy but stable.

The serenity from a few seconds earlier suddenly disappeared, when a scruffy-looking man in short-shorts whizzed
right past us.

My mouth was
gaping open for at least five seconds. “I am ninety percent sure that dude wasn’t wearing shoes.”

Erik’s eyes widened and he nodded. “That’s why his feet made no sound. Did you notice that?”

“Yes!”

“A light-footed rabbit man, how odd.”

I turned to him with my hands on my hips. “You know why he did that, right?”

“So he could sneak up…”

“And then serial kill!” We immediately high-fived for some unknown reason that apparently made sense to both of us.

My face became
serious. “Central Park after sunset with a killer on the loose?”

Erik solemnly placed a hand on m
y shoulder. “We’ll have to be careful.”

And
right there, within five minutes of my Central Park stroll with Erik, I realized it was nothing like my time with James.

It’s like comparing apples and oranges…

***

Ten
minutes and some insulting jokes later, Belvedere Castle stared down at us. I distinctly remembered a moment from the last time I was here, when James and I were taking pictures at the park. At the time I’d hoped we’d get a chance to visit the castle.

We didn’t.

Erik smiled at me and gestured towards the castle. “Wouldn’t you like to see it? C’mon.”

He led the way up the cracked stone steps, until we reached a landing on the second level. We
both stopped in mutual awe, struck by a gorgeous view of the park and city backdrop.

I leaned my elbows over the
wide stone wall and stared out as far as I could. “Now I really believe it,” I said.

“Believe what?”

I turned to him. “That I’m here, standing next to you again. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been next to you.”

He smiled, and I suddenly realized that our bodies were incredibly close.

We both turned away in sync, staring back out at the buildings and glowing lights.

He turned in my directio
n again, only this time his eyes seemed more serious. “Part of me hoped you would transform into someone boring or annoying or superficial by the time I saw you again,” he said.

I frowned. “Should I be apologizing
then?”

“No;
I should be. I wish I had more for you.”

I sighed. I did not want our weekend to wind up at “Grand Central Depression.” I rubbed my forehead and stared back at him. “Listen. We can have a great time or
a sad time. So what’s it gonna be?”

He smiled. “If that was a kick in the ass then I really needed it. Thanks.”

I moved closer and closer to him, like maybe I was trying for a kiss. “You’re welcome. But I won’t remind you again.”

I sauntered my way through
the castle, and for a moment I felt just the tiniest bit cool...

***

Now in a very different part of the park, we walked along a path with the “Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir” to our left, fenced off by iron bars.

Erik pointe
d to it as he spoke. “This actually goes all the way up to Ninety-Sixth Street.”

I nodded and smiled, feeling
exhilarated by our night-time tour of Central Park, with almost no one around by now.

“Well thank you,
Mr. Tour Guide!”

“Oh shut up,”
he said, thinking I was being sarcastic.

I grabbed his arm to stop him. “No I mean it! I had no idea there was this much ‘park.’ Thank you.” Before we could gaze longingly at each other for too long, I leaned over the iron fence, staring down into the black liquid nothingness.

“You think all the ice melted?” I said, feeling confident that geological questions were a safe and non-romantic topic.

He stepped up beside me and leaned over the rail. “It’s possible.”

I looked at him with evil intentions, barely stopping to wonder why he instantly brought out the worst in me. “There is literally no one here,” I said, as I quickly looked left and right. “And there’s a body of water to dump you in.” I was whispering now. “So if I was going to kill you, I’d do it now.”

He seemed unfazed. “If you kill me, no one will buy you dinner.”

I was even more unfazed. “Well obviously I would steal your wallet before dumping you in the river.”

We smiled at each other wa
rmly now, as I considered how a guy could even like me for being this weird...

***

With our tour of the park now over, we were strolling through a posh neighbourhood in the Upper East Side. This particular stretch was lined with expensive-looking townhouses and fancy street lamps. An elderly couple dressed in tweed like it was going out of style (wasn’t it though?) slowly walked past us hand-in-hand.

I smiled and sighed. “All I want…when I’m old and grey and gr
oss....is someone to hold my very arthritic hand.”

Erik sighed as well. “By then I will be holding hands with my third or fourth wife. But I can hold yours now if you like.”

I didn’t offer up my hand, but was happy to oblige by showing him a middle finger. I walked right past him, and then, as if falling out of a trance, I remembered it was Friday night. “So what time’s the museum?”

I stopped and turned
to the sound of his sudden laughter. “I don’t think the museum will be happening today,” he said. “We spent…over three hours in the park.”

I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”

He caught up to me and showed me the time on his phone. “Look.”

I felt like I was in
a time warp.

Is this how fast the whole weekend
will go?

“Romi...
I think this means we’re having a good time.”

Chapter Twenty

Back in my hotel room now (
and alone), I rifled through my suitcase, wearing only a bra and jeans. Though we’d managed to stay “just friends” so far, I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to stick to that rule. Not when I was feeling so much maddening desire for him. I wondered if he felt the same. Just to be safe, I was wearing my “padding free” push-up bra that Eleanor picked out. I wasn’t looking very big at all right now (I scowled as I glanced in the mirror), but a sexy top would help things along. I finally pulled out the options, which were either a black sequined top or a low-cut purple top.

Did someone say low-cut? Purple it is.
I added a black cardigan which I’d wear for most of the night, since dinner at a cool Asian restaurant didn’t need such a ‘ho-ish look.

Erik would be
here in just a few minutes time, so I grabbed my curling iron and went to work. This was a very important task, as my hair had last been curled fourteen hours ago, so it seriously needed a boost.

Only one
curl in I heard a knock at the door.
Dammit, is he early?
I took a quick look at my tired waves of hair and frowned.
I guess it’ll have to do.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Housekeeping,” said
a woman’s thick accented voice.

Feeling confused
now I slowly opened the door, only to find Erik laughing his ass off. He’d put some gel in his hair to make it look a little messy which was utterly hot, and had smartly switched jackets to a casual grey number. He stepped inside the room still laughing. “I fooled you,” he said. “I really did.”

I turned to him and looked
somewhat disgusted. “So you’re impressed with yourself because you’re capable of sounding like a woman?”

His laughter stopped.

“Exactly,” I said. “Now where to?”

***

Erik and I stepped out of the cab and were greeted with a gust of wind. He tried yelling over the wind and traffic. “This is not like any other February night! There’s something in the air!”

I smiled at him as we set out on foot towards Washington Square Park.

The wind showed no signs of letting up, continuing to howl as we walked along Fourth Street. By now I was relieved that I hadn’t styled my hair, as it certainly would’ve been a waste. I could barely see what was in front of me now, and I kept having to pull strands of hair out of my lip gloss.

“It’s not just wind you know,” I finally said. “It’s a wind ghost!”

“Does it have unfinished business in New York?”

“SO much unfinished business!”

The wind was literally making our steps a bit staggered but we continued on.

“Is it a ghost from the nineteenth century?”
he asked.

“All good ghosts are!” He may have laughed, but the wind was too loud to tell for sure. “Which means it definitely has an old-fashioned name!”

“A name like…”

I thought as fast as I could. “Clarence!”

Now I could really hear him laugh, as we continued our laboured steps. I looked over at him, and between my blowing strands of hair, I could see him gazing warmly in my direction.

It was hard to
believe how soon that face would be gone…

***

Before dinner, we decided to have a drink at a popular pub in the East Village. It was packed with everyday people enjoying beers after a long week at work…just the kind of people I felt at home around.

We didn’t have a seat so we stood by a corner of the bar and casually sipped.

“I can’t believe how much I’m going to miss this city,” he said.

I looked up at
him. “I’m sure there’s plenty of bars in Copenhagen. And they’re probably really charming.”

He smiled. “They are
, but in New York, no matter what hole of a place you’re in,” he gestured to this packed but somewhat cruddy bar, “it’s always full of life. A constant energy. I will miss that.”

I’d
spent so much time focused on the connection we’d lose once he left, that I hadn’t even thought of how he’d feel to lose the city that he loved.

I leaned against him
briefly. “You’ll just have to come back and visit.”

***

Half-eaten plates of sauced up chicken sat next to half-empty glasses of wine at a table of fully-smiling grown adults.

It was the two of us
, and I was having the time of my life.

***

It was nearly midnight now, as Erik and I walked along a dirty brick wall that led to nowhere. He stopped when he reached an unmarked door with much of its paint peeled off.

“Should I be scared?” I said. “Because I kind of am.”

He ignored me and knocked on the door three times.

“Are you trying to buy drugs? Is this the
side of you that isn’t nerdy?” I was nervous.

Meanwhile Erik looked at me and laughed. “You are so cute when you’re scared.
Just hang on, okay?”

He put his arm around my shoulder and we waited.

A moment later, the door opened and a sexy blonde hostess in a black mini-dress stood before us. Erik whispered something in her ear. She smiled and simply pointed to the thick black curtain ahead.

I
frowned. “This is a strip club, isn’t it...”

He laughed and grabbed my hand, leading me through the curtained darkness.

***

Stone walls and a room lit only by candles created an intimate setting. The drinks were tall and the music was a throwback to the 1950’s. Erik and I were seated at a private table in the corner,
smiling and sipping our drinks.

“This is the first time I’ve ever had gin,”
I said.

“Why’d it take you so long?” he asked.

I smiled. “Because they don’t serve vodka here.”

“This place is way too cool for vodka. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

I laughed. “No! I was trying to say I like gin. It’s a new experience.”

“It’s important to try new things.” He stared at me casually at first, but a moment later his eyes overtook me. When he finally broke the trance he seemed uncomfortable, like he wanted to get away from me.

But there was no escaping me now.

So
I smiled.

“What are you smiling about
?” he said. “I mean please don’t stop, I love your smile. But why?”

I’m just thinking about all the times we could’ve lost touch for good. At least ten easy outs.”

“Hmm…I think I count eleven,” he said. “Like the time you told me about your crazy parents.” He narrowed his eyes. “And how they watch you like a hawk.”

I looked away in
embarrassment. “I’m surprised you didn’t run.”

“Why would I? Different cultures don’t scare me. I would actually love to travel the world throughout my life, and learn as much as I can throughout the years.”

I sighed. “Me too, and I’m so behind the curve I need to start!”

He smiled. “It’s never too late. And back to the topic
, nothing up until now has made me run, because there was always something about you. Even now, just something about you…” he trailed off and looked straight into my eyes again. Was this the moment? My heart was beating fast as I readied myself for “the kiss.”

To my surprise he quickly rose from his chair. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

I suddenly had a feeling this guy with the long-time girlfriend was starting to regret our weekend…

***

With the alcohol from a couple more drinks now coursing through our veins, the serious cloud had lifted to be replaced with a steady buzz, as we emerged from the subway steps and out onto Fourteenth Street.

Our pace was a little uneven and a little diagonal.

Erik was practically dragging me along to keep his pace. “We’re almost there, and I think you’ll like it. They play Brit rock, some retro stuff…”

I yawned and he stopped in his tracks. He turned and grabbed me by the shoulders. “No. No, no, no. This is New York City. The party doesn’t stop until four a.m.!”

I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. “I’ve been awake for twenty hours.”

“But we can fix that!” He looked around until he spotted something promising. “A-ha! Over there.”  He pointed to a convenience store across the street.

I shook my head. “I really don’t need to meet my Indian uncle who works at a convenience store right now...”

He
laughed and put his arm around my shoulder. “C’mon.”

Once we made it inside the store, E
rik propped me up against the wall, and grabbed something small from a nearby rack. He looked excited as he headed to the register, where an Indian man in a turban stared at me with judging eyes.

I rolled my eyes in his direction
, with the help of a decent buzz. “Yes, he’s white! You must be sooo disappointed. Sorry!”

Erik burst into laughter as he took his change, then grabbed my arm
and practically pulled me all the way outside.

“God!” I said, s
traightening out the sleeve of my coat. “What are you so frantic about?”

He pulled a tiny bottle out from inside his jacket pocket. “This.”

It was a bottle of “Five-Hour Energy,” the “extra-strength” edition.

“Uhh...”

“This will fix you right up.” He unscrewed the cap and nodded excitedly. I suddenly felt like I was in seventh grade again, with the bad kids wanting me to smoke.

I took the bottle from his hand and sniffed it slowly. It
smelled kind of fruity, which was encouraging.

“It’s best to take it as one shot,” he said.

“How many times have you done this?”

He smiled. “How long have I lived in New York?”

I looked at his fit, sexy body and decided there’d be no ill effects. So I chugged.

I immediately coughed and stuck out my tongue in disgust. “Ugh! It tastes like feet!”

He laughed. “You go around tasting feet in your spare time? I knew you were kinky.”

If
only you knew how kinky I truly wasn’t.

I scowled and tossed th
e bottle at him. “Well aren’t you hilarious! But you know what? Your dimples are like face-holes. And who would want holes on their face? It’s a skin deficiency. And I feel sorry for you!”

He was trying so hard not to laugh. “I’ve never seen a bottle of ‘Five-Hour Energy’ work that fast. But let’s not waste it, come on.”

With feet-tasting liquid rushing through my body, we headed to our next destination…

***

Erik and I leaned against the bar, in this club full of trendy New Yorkers trying not to look trendy.
The American hipster
. Normally I’d shun this crowd, but these weren’t the “those without thick-rimmed glasses need not apply” kind of hipsters. On the contrary, these ones were all-inclusive, as they smiled openly at everyone, and randomly grabbed people from the bar to dance with. There was definitely a reason to dance, with the club playing awesome retro songs from the nineties.

When did the nineties become “retro”? God I’m getting old...

Erik casually sipped a beer as we looked out into the crowd, while I worked on my vodka and Diet Coke. I had finally removed my conservative black cardigan, which left me fully on display in this low-cut purple top. It was good that I had a buzz on, because I definitely wasn’t feeling shy.

A familiar
Brit rock hit started up, as a short balding man in his thirties came into view. He approached a tall hot blonde from behind, and without her even knowing, started working all kinds of moves. Within seconds, his gyrations brought him close to her low-rise-jeaned ass.

“So what’s t
he end game there?” I said to Erik.

“A very physical connection.
”

I laughed.
“I bet you ten bucks he unzips his fly before the song is over.”

“But what about that guy over there?”
He pointed to a tall skinny guy in a red T-shirt dancing wildly. With himself. His eyes completely closed.

I laughed. “I’m pretty sure I wanna BE that guy! He brings truth and honour to the ‘dance like no one’s watching’ philosophy.”

I aggressively downed the rest of my drink in one breath, and placed the empty glass on the bar.

“Should we join him?”

Erik seemed suddenly shy and embarrassed, like a few times before on this night.

“I think we’re okay over here,” he quickly said.