Perfect on Paper (35 page)

“Make that two glasses,” Andie said.

McKenna looked at her and laughed. “You too?”

“Hair of the dog, you know,” Andie said with a shrug.

“All right, make it three glasses,” McKenna said.

“That’s my girl,” I said.

“Big night last night?” Kristina said.

The three of us nodded.

“Oh, yes,” McKenna said.

“We were overserved,” I said.

“It wasn’t our fault,” Andie said.

Shane handed us each a glass and sat down. “So what exactly is the deal with this date tonight? Is it some sort of reality show?”

I nearly choked on my wine. “Oh, God no, it’s just a singles auction for charity. I was supposed to meet the guy last night right after the auction and have dinner with him then, but he bailed, so now I have to have dinner with him tonight.”

“So who is he? Did they give you any scoop?” Kristina said.

“Nada. All I know is that his name is Wendall P. Feldman, and he’s from Dallas,” I said.

“Wendall Feldman?” Kristina said. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I said. “And don’t forget the
P.
”

“I have to pee,” Andie said, standing up. “Be right back.”

“What does he look like?” Kristina said.

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I couldn’t see anything because of the bright lights, and Andie and McKenna couldn’t see him in the crowd either. And then he left.”

“Did you google him?” Shane said.

“Is he on Facebook?” Kristina said.

I lightly pounded my fist on the bar. “Darn it. I didn’t even think of that. And we even have free Internet in our room upstairs, not to mention Andie’s iPhone.”

“We suck,” McKenna said.

“Where are you going on your date?” Kristina said.

“I have no idea,” I said. “I honestly know nothing.”

“The guy bid five thousand dollars,” McKenna said.

Kristina raised her eyebrows. “Really? Hmm … he must be very interested in you to spend that kind of money,” she said.

McKenna laughed. “Or interested in getting his picture in
People
magazine.”

“Touché,” I said.

At seven thirty-five, a short grey-haired man in a suit and chauffeur’s cap walked into the bar. He approached our group with a polite smile.

“Excuse me, is one of you Waverly Bryson?” he said.

“Yes, sir, that’s me,” I said with a salute.

He bowed ever so slightly. “My name is Malcolm, and I’ll be your chauffeur for the evening. The limo is waiting for you outside. If you’ll just follow me, we’ll be on our way.”

I put my drink down and took a deep breath. “So we’ll all meet up after my date is over?” I said to my friends.

“Yep, call me,” McKenna said. She and Andie had hit it off with Kristina and Shane, so the four of them were going to dinner.

“Okay.” I quickly reapplied my lipstick and stood up to smooth my skirt.

“I have to see this,” McKenna said, standing up.

“Hell yes, we do,” Andie said, following her.

“Me too.” Kristina grabbed Shane and pulled him off his stool.

Shane rolled his eyes. “Chicks.”

The five of us followed the chauffeur out of the bar and into the lobby. Then I turned and pointed at them. “Okay, you can watch, but don’t be all obvious and weird about it, okay? Promise?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet as mice. We just want to grab a peek,” McKenna said.

“I hope he’s not butt,” Andie said.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Andie. Now get out of here and keep your phone on vibrate so you don’t miss my call, which I will be making the second this dinner is over. We still have a bachelorette party ahead of us.”

“Bachelorette party? What?” Shane said. “Am I allowed to be here?”

“Honey, if you’re lucky, we’ll let you be the entertainment. Now shoo, all of you.” I pushed him toward the others, then turned back to Malcolm, exhaled, and bit my lip.

“Okay, kind sir, show me the way.” I tried to smile.

“After you, Miss Bryson.” He gestured toward the hotel entrance.

“Here goes,” I said softly.

Malcolm opened the lobby door for me, and I saw a black stretch limousine parked outside next to the curb. We walked under the hotel awning down the red carpet toward the sidewalk. I turned my head and saw my friends peering out from a window in the lobby, smiling and waving.

“Losers,” I mouthed at them.

I shook my head and then turned forward to face the limousine, but I stepped funny, and my heel slipped on the carpet. I lost my balance and tried to catch myself by holding on to Malcolm’s arm, but he was just out of reach, so I went down like a sack of bricks. My legs flew out from under me, and I fell flat on my back onto the carpet.

Holy crap.

“Miss Bryson, are you all right?” Malcolm and two doormen rushed over to help me up.

I struggled to my feet and smoothed out my skirt. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Totally mortified, but I’ll live,” I said.

I turned back to the hotel and saw the Four Stooges laughing their heads off from the lobby window. I curtsied and waved to them with a smile. I’d get them back later.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Miss Bryson?” Malcolm said.

“Yes, I swear, I’m fine, thanks. Seriously, I’m okay.” I had a massive raspberry on my left elbow that stung like hell, but I was too embarrassed to say anything about it. A Band-Aid would just have to wait.

“Okay, if you say so. But that was quite a tumble. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I could use a big shot of tequila right about now,” I said under my breath.

“Pardon?”

“Um, I said I could use a beach spot in Anguilla right about now.”

“Couldn’t we all, Miss Bryson. Couldn’t we all.” He tipped his hat and winked, then held out his arm. Malcolm was an okay dude.

I took his arm, and we started toward the limo. I prayed that Wendall P. Feldman hadn’t witnessed my fall, so I could preserve the air-brushed illusion he probably expected for his five thousand dollars. Man, was he in for a surprise.

Malcolm opened the passenger door, and I leaned down and poked my head inside.

“Hi, Waverly, I’m so glad you made it. And you look gorgeous, as always.”

The voice was so familiar. Could it be …?

I turned my head to the back of the limo and gasped.

I sat down inside the limousine and smoothed out my skirt. We started moving, but I felt like my stomach had been left behind on the sidewalk.

“Hi, Waverly,” he said again.

I looked at him and blinked twice.

“Scotty?” Scotty Ryan … from … Dallas?

I swallowed hard.
What?

He reached over and put his hand on my arm “Are you okay? You look a little startled.”

Startled? Hellooo? Can you say
understatement
?

I could barely speak. “No, I’m fine, really. What are you …?” It came out as a squeak.

“It’s great to see you, by the way. And are you really okay? That was quite a fall,” he said.

So much for the airbrushed illusion.

“Oh, I’m okay. A little embarrassed, but I’m fine.”

“Good, because I need you in top form for this date tonight. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, and I don’t want you wimping out on me.”

I touched my right earring and twisted it. “But Scotty, I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what? Hey, want some champagne?” He pulled a bottle out of an ice bucket and held out a crystal flute.

I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s Dom Perignon.”

On second thought, champagne suddenly seemed like a good idea. “Okay, why not?” I reached for the flute.

“Scotty?” I said softly.

“Yes, Waverly?”

“Um, aren’t you, uh, you know …?”

“Aren’t I what?”

“You know …”

He smiled. “Shorter than you are?”

I laughed. “No, you know … gay?”

His smile turned into a grin. Then he winked.

I was at a loss for words.

He lightly touched my leg. “I’ll explain everything. Just wait a minute.”

He touched a button to lower the black divider between us and the driver.

“Malcolm, could you please pull over for a minute at Park and Sixty-second? I need to pick something up,” he said.

“Why, of course, sir.”

“Thanks, my good man.” He raised the divider back up.

I put my champagne flute down in one of the limo’s built-in drink holders and crossed my arms. “Scotty, what’s going on?”

He smiled. “Sweetheart, I just want to make sure that tonight is perfect. And there’s something I need to pick up to make that happen.”

“I’m really confused. Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I said.

“Say anything about what?”

I whispered, “About, you know, not really being gay?”

Just then the limo came to a stop, and we heard Malcolm get out of the car. Scotty scooted forward toward the passenger door just as Malcolm was opening it.

“Just a minute, Waverly. I’ll be right back.” He put his champagne down and stepped outside of the limo, shutting the door behind him.

I leaned back into the deep leather folds of the seat and closed my eyes. Was I dreaming? What was going on?

Five minutes later, the door opened, and Scotty sat back down with a small velvet box in his hand.

He looked at me and smiled. “All set.”

I glanced at the box. “What happens next?” I said.

“Off to a fabulous little Italian restaurant, my lovely lady. Waiting there is a romantic candlelight dinner that I hope will enchant you as much as you enchant me.”

I set my champagne down again and looked him straight in the eye.

“Scotty, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question, darling?”

“We’ve been friends for years. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t gay?”

He put his hand on my arm.

“Sweetheart, who said I wasn’t gay?”

What?

“What?” I said.

“What what?”

“You’re not straight?” I said.

“Nope, I’m not straight.”

“So you’re still gay?”

He laughed. “Yes, I’m still gay.”

“Then why—”

I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.”

“What?” he said.

“You’re here out of pity.”

“What do you mean?”

“You bid on me because no one else would.”

“Waverly—”

“To save my feelings from being hurt, right? I knew it. Oh my God, I’m such a los—”

He grabbed my hand. “Waverly, calm down.”

I looked at him.

“I didn’t bid on you because no one else did,” he said.

“You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

He laughed. “Yes, my love, I’m sure.”

“Then why did you bid on me?”

He leaned back and took a sip of champagne. “Who said I bid on you?”

What?

“You didn’t bid on me?”

He shook his head. “No, I did not.”

“Then why are you my date tonight?”

“Who said I was your date tonight?”

What??

“Scotty, cut it out. I’m serious. What’s going on?”

“Gorgeous, didn’t I tell you I wanted this night to be perfect,
for you?
”

I nodded. “Yes, you did.”

“And didn’t I say I just needed to pick up one thing to make it perfect,
for you?”

I nodded again and glanced at the box on the seat next to him. “Yes, you did.”

“And have I ever lied to you?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Well I haven’t, and I’m not about to start now.” He leaned over to press the divider button again. “So what do you think? Should I tell our good driver where the restaurant is so we can be on our way?”

I looked down at the velvet box, then up at the black divider as it slowly opened. Through the front windshield I could see the sign for the Plaza Hotel. We were back at the Plaza?

Then the driver turned around.

I gasped again.

The person sitting in the driver’s seat wasn’t Malcolm anymore.

“Hi, Waverly,” he said.

“Hi, Jake,” I whispered.

As I was trying to process what was happening, I heard knocking on the passenger window. Scotty opened the door, and Shane’s and Kristina’s smiling faces poked in.

“Hey there, Scott,” Shane said.

Kristina smiled. “Hi, Waverly.”

“Hi, everyone,” Jake said, moving to the backseat and sitting next to me.

I looked at Jake and Scotty and then back at Shane and Kristina.

“How did …?” I whispered to no one in particular.

“I’ll explain everything,” Jake said.

“He’ll explain everything.” Shane pointed to Jake.

“He’ll explain everything.” Scotty squeezed my knee and pointed to Jake.

Then McKenna and Andie poked their heads in. “Nice ride ya got going here,” Andie said.

“Mackie? Andie? What the …?” I said.

McKenna shook her head. “Don’t ask me, you’re the one with all these crazy famous friends.”

“Hey now, watch your language,” Kristina said.

Scotty climbed out of the limo. “All right, people, I’m outta here.” Then he leaned back in and kissed me on the cheek. “Have fun at dinner, Miss Bryson. Mr. McIntyre, please take good care of her.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jake said.

“Hey, wait a minute.” I grabbed Scotty’s hand and pulled him toward me.

“What, love?”

“What’s in the box?” I whispered.

He pulled it out of his pocket and held it up. “This?”

I nodded.

“It’s a key to Tad’s apartment. He’s out of town until tomorrow, but he left me a key with his doorman so I could stay at his place tonight.”

“That’s it?” I said.

He smiled. “That’s it.”

I pointed at him and laughed. “Mr. Ryan, you got me bad.”

“That’s why I receive marriage proposals from women across the country, my dear. Now, shoo.” He kissed my hand and shut the door.

Then my real date began.

Twenty minutes later, Jake and I were seated in a quiet corner at Cacio e Pepe, a picturesque Italian restaurant in the East Village.

He poured me a glass of red wine. “So, we meet again.”

“We meet again,” I said, still dazed.

“Here’s to
People
magazine.” He lifted his glass up to mine.

I held my glass tight as I touched it against his. “So you’re Wendall P. Feldman?”

He laughed. “Oh, that. Wendall Feldman was my next-door neighbor growing up.”

“So he’s a real person?”

He nodded. “He’s a real person.”

“What does the
P
stand for?”

“Poindexter.”

“Wendall Poindexter Feldman? Ouch. So why the fake name anyway?”

He smiled. “I thought you might go running for the hills again if you knew it was me.”

I blushed and looked down. Running for the hills? Yeah, right. If he only knew how many times I’d thought about running my fingers through his hair.

“And I thought you had a boyfriend this whole time anyway,” he said.

I looked back up at him. “A boyfriend? What?”

“Yeah, actually, I thought Scott was your boyfriend. Or at least that you were dating him.”

“Scotty?” I said. “Really?”

He nodded. “You two always looked rather chummy, especially at Dale’s wedding, and then I saw him kiss you at that Giants’ game in the spring.”

The waiter set our entrees down and quietly retreated.

I pushed my pasta around with my fork and shook my head.

“Jake, Scotty was never my boyfriend.”

He looked at me and smiled. “I know that
now
,” he said, and I could feel my pulse start to race.

“How did you meet him?” I said.

“At a barbecue at Shane’s house a few weeks ago. When he introduced me to his boyfriend, it sort of cleared things up.”

“You met Scott at a barbecue at Shane’s house?” I said.

He nodded, his messy brown hair nearly reaching his eyes. “His boyfriend works at the same agency as Shane’s agent. Anyhow, I told him that you’d pretty much given me the Heisman every time I’d seen you since we met.” He moved his hands into the position of the little guy on the Heisman Trophy, one hand behind his head and the other straight out in front of him.

I smiled and pointed at him. “I so did not give you the Heisman.”

He pointed back. “You so did, but Scott set me straight, and then Kristina backed him up.” He smiled and looked right at me. With those blue eyes.

“Oh,” I said, thanking God I was already sitting down, because my knees were beginning to feel really weak, and I had already fallen on my face one too many times that day.

“Then Scott said he had a clever idea for how you and I could meet up again, and here we are,” he said.

“So this was all Scotty’s idea?”

“Yep, pretty much. He also said something about owing you.”

Owing me? Oh yeah, the U2 concert he didn’t take me to. Talk about making good on your word.

“But how did you work out the whole surprise thing? I mean, what if I’d seen you bid on me at the auction?” I said.

He laughed. “I have some connections.”

“Connections?”

“Yep, I wasn’t even at the auction. The auctioneer just knew to make the highest bidder the gentleman in the back.”

“But … but what if …?”

“What if what?”

“Well, I mean, I know it sounds insane, but what if someone else had bid a lot of money on me?”

He laughed. “That’s where it comes in handy to be buddies with an NBA star. Shane and Kristina said they’d take care of it if the bidding got out of my price range.”

“They did?”

“Well, mostly Kristina,” he said. “She said she thought we’d have a good time.” Then he lowered his voice a bit and smiled. “I think she was right.”

I couldn’t take any more of those sexy smiles. I took a sip of water and tried to cool myself off.

“Um, so why didn’t you just do the regular auction? Were you busy last night?” I said.

He shook his head. “I wanted a real date with you … alone.”

“Oh,” I whispered, nearly falling off my chair.

“So, were Scotty and Kristina right in their prediction?” he said.

“What prediction?”

“That you’d be glad to find out that your date was with me?”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I looked over his shoulder and then up at the ceiling. “Um, well, yeah, but, um …”

He smiled. “But what?”

I couldn’t believe this was really happening.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Waverly? Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes and shook my head to focus them. “I’m sorry. I was just … I was just thinking….”