Love Bites

“Is this what you girls do when guys aren’t around?” he asked, trying to catch his breath. “You get dressed up, make martinis and cry? Is there a Lifetime movie marathon on?” He leaned forward and clutched his stomach.

“It’s not funny,” I said, fighting back a smile. When I thought about what I probably looked like to someone else, it actually was pretty funny. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I left some stuff here. Renee said I could use the spare key and stop by. She said you wouldn’t be here because you were out on a…” A look of recognition came over him as his grin faded. He walked over and sat down next to me on the rug. “I’m guessing the date didn’t go well?”

“He’s married.”

“Ouch. Now I feel bad for laughing.” He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward him. “Although you do look kind of funny having a depressing cocktail party on your floor.”

We both burst out laughing.

“I take it Renee didn’t tell you I was coming by?” he asked.

I pointed to my phone. I had turned it off so I wouldn’t be tempted to answer Vincent’s phone calls, wondering where I’d gone. I wanted to make him wait. Make him feel as stupid as I did.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing to talk about, really. He took me out to dinner, kissed me, then proceeded to tell me he was married like it was the most natural thing in the world.”

“Hmm, let me guess. Makes a lot of money… drives a flashy car…”

I nodded.

“Typical. So what did you do?”

“Ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne, a 32-ounce steak, then told him I was going to the bathroom and snuck out the back.” I grinned proudly.

“Nicely done.” David looked like he was impressed. “Well, on that note, I say we go make a few more of these.” He took the martini glass from my grasp.

I followed David into the kitchen, happy he’d come to my rescue. This was exactly what Renee would’ve done. She would’ve turned the unfortunate situation into a party.

“There’s only one problem,” I admitted, as David passed me a glass.

“What’s that?”

“He’s my boss. Does that mean I have to quit?”

“Absolutely not.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, like he’d majored in corporate adultery. “Here’s what you do. You walk into work on Monday like nothing ever happened. If he tries to bring it up, you casually tell him that you think you should keep your relationship strictly professional.” He paused, taking a sip of the martini. His face puckered from the taste, and he took a straight shot from the vodka bottle instead. “The guy isn’t going to say shit. If he’s your boss, he could lose his job for pulling something like that.”

Hmm. He had a point.

“But seriously, though, why the tears?” He cocked his head to the side. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this, since you’re Renee’s best friend and all, but Justine, you’re gorgeous. You could have anyone you want. Was this guy really that great?”

I thought back to all the days I had spent with Vincent, joking around in his office, flirting at happy hours. We shared the same sense of humor, I admired his intelligence, and I was crazy attracted to him. He was definitely part of the reason I was upset, but it was more than that.

I was sick of the Vincents of the world. Sick of disappointing my parents. Sick of envying my best friend for having a great guy and wondering if my turn would ever come.

In short, I was lonely.

“I did like him,” I said. “I’ve dated a lot since I moved here, and I really thought that this time it was going to work out.”

“LA’s a different scene, that’s for sure. But, like anywhere, you have to take the good with the bad. On the downside, there are a lot of douches on the dating market. On the upside, it’s 75 degrees year-round.” His eyes lit up. “Speaking of, I have an idea. You have a pool here, right?”

I nodded. The pool was our apartment’s greatest selling point. It was heated, secluded, and open 24 hours.

“I say we go for a swim and exchange worst-date-ever stories.” He tossed me a knowing look. “If anything will cheer you up, it’s the David Whitman dating rolodex.”

I looked down at my outfit hesitantly. After the night I’d had, even the thought of selecting a bikini seemed exhausting. But David’s damn puppy eyes and taunting dimples were impossible to resist.

“Fine,” I surrendered. “But you’d better have some damn good stories.”

The pool was exactly what I needed. The warm water on my skin made my experience with Vincent seem like it was nonexistent. I felt like a kid again.

When I was in the third grade, my father lost his job and we had to live with his parents for a year until he and my mother got back on their feet. While my parents were devastated, I was elated because my grandparents had a giant built-in pool in their backyard.

I always remember that summer being the best of my childhood. My friends from school would come over and we’d swim all day. Sometimes we’d play games (“The Little Mermaid” had made its debut the year prior), and other times we’d just hang out on the blow-up rafts. But I’ll never forget the feeling of happiness that came from the water.

That was exactly how I felt right now, swimming around in my pink-and-white-striped bikini. I’d chosen a girl-next-door type of suit, as I didn’t want to bust out the thong bikini and give David the wrong idea. David seemed to sense my ease once we started splashing around. He kept looking at me with a proud-dad smile, like he was happy he’d made the suggestion.

The great thing about our pool was its seclusion. It wasn’t connected to our apartment building at all. You had to walk through the parking area to get to it, and even then it was fenced in, so you couldn’t see in from the outside. Luckily, our apartment management was very low-key and didn’t close it at a certain time. The glowing blue pool lights stayed on all night, unlike a lot of other buildings that closed the swim area at ten.

“Okay,” David said, resting his arm on the ledge. “Worst date ever. Go.”

I had to pick just one? This could take a while…

“I met a guy at the W hotel last year, who introduced himself as D.X.X.” I used hand quotations as I said the acronym. “I refused to call him this idiotic term, but he insisted it was his name.”

David was already laughing. “Don’t you love how no one in Hollywood uses their real name? It’s like, if they tell people their name is John Smith, they’re destined for career failure.”

“Yeah, well, he was cute, and I was drunk, so I agreed to go out with him.” I sighed, partly wishing I hadn’t agreed to divulge this horribly embarrassing story to a gorgeous guy. “I met him at Katana, that sushi place on Sunset, the next night and he tells me that if I want to have a few drinks, I can stay at his place since he lives right next door. He promised to be a perfect gentleman.”

“Famous last words,” David joked.

“Well he was, at first. We both fell asleep shortly after we got to his house. But then I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard a weird noise and I look over, and the guy is kneeling above me on the bed, jerking himself off.”

“While you were sleeping?” David threw his head back and laughed loudly. “That’s got to be illegal somehow.”

I lowered my head, mortified.

He waved his hands in front of him like he was surrendering. “Okay, I’m starting to understand the martini pity-party.” He swam closer to me. “I went home with a girl once, after our first date. We were taking our clothes off, having a good time, and then she tells me that I don’t have to use a condom. Because she’s already pregnant.”

I was feeling better already.

“I went out with an actor once,” I said. “And I asked him what he did when he wasn’t shooting. He started running his hands over his body and said ‘well, not to be cheesy, but my job is to maintain this’.”

“Stop it.”

“That wasn’t even the bad part. The bad part was that my gorgeous classmate showed up at the same restaurant we were at, and he immediately dropped the douche act and invited her to join us. He ignored me for the rest of the dinner and stared at her fake boobs the entire time.”

“So how was the second date?”

“Funny.”

David grinned. “I went out with an actress once, too. The date was awesome, actually, until her fiancé showed up at the restaurant and punched me in the jaw.”

“You’re lying.”

He pointed to a small scar on his chin. “I don’t date actresses any more.”

Okay, I was really starting to feel better. If a hot catch like David had just as bad of a track record as I did, then maybe there wasn’t something wrong with me.

David paddled in a circle around me, then lifted me up and tossed me underwater. After I came back up and wiped my face, he pulled me towards him.

“Well, Justine, I have good news and bad news,” he announced, looking into my eyes ever-so-seriously. “The bad news is that I officially made the worst martini ever, therefore I’m not in the best shape to drive home.” His lips twitched devilishly. “The good news is that I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

Chapter 7

Renee had decided to start house-hunting. I think it was partially because she couldn’t stand living in a cramped condo filled with boxes, and partially because she needed a new project to work on. Renee couldn’t sit still. She loved writing, and when she wasn’t working on a freelance assignment, she was managing Dylan’s band. And when she wasn’t managing Dylan’s band, she was searching for somewhere else to direct her energy.

Today, she’d decided to focus her energy on houses. Dylan was at rehearsal and wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it in time, so she’d elected me to be her co-conspirator for the afternoon.

I agreed to meet her at a new real-estate company in the city. Apparently they were headquartered in New York but had recently opened a Boston location. A friend of Renee’s had referred them, so she’d made an appointment to go in and meet with one of the agents. I couldn’t think of a less fun way to spend the afternoon, but Dylan had promised to meet us after his rehearsal, so I hoped I’d be off the hook soon enough.

The Keller office was bright and beautiful. Everything seemed to be made of glass or granite: a vibrant, open space. The receptionist looked up from her computer as I walked in.

“Welcome to Keller Realty,” she greeted. “Do you have an appointment with us today?”

I pointed to Renee, who was already seated in the lobby, filling out paperwork. “I’m with her,” I said. Renee smiled and waved me over.

I strolled across the office and sat down next to Renee, still admiring the surroundings.

“Nice office, huh?” Renee asked, following my gaze.

I nodded. “Have you been here long?”

“No. I’m just filling out some papers.” She looked down guiltily and picked up another clipboard from the table next to her. “But there’s another reason I picked this place.”

I eyed her suspiciously. “Why do I feel like this has to do with me?”

She bit her lip. “Well, they also specialize in rentals. So I thought maybe… you could look at apartments, too. Wouldn’t it be fun if we both looked at places together?”

I sighed. Ever since I’d started dishing the David details, Renee seemed gung-ho on helping me move my life forward. Which was sweet. I just didn’t know if I was ready for it yet.

“Renee, they’re not going to rent to someone who’s unemployed.”

“I know. But maybe if you see a place you really like, it’ll motivate you to start looking.” She pouted. “Besides, I hate that you live so far away.”

“It’s only an hour…”

“Well it’ll be longer in a few months with summer Cape traffic.” She pushed the clipboard closer to me. “Please?”

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly took the clipboard from her. “Fine, I’ll fill it out. But I don’t know if I want to live in the city. Too much traffic.”

“They have places all over the south shore.”

Of course they did. I appreciated her efforts to cheer me up, but I highly doubted that looking at apartments out of my price range was going to heal my broken heart.

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted, sensing my hesitation. “You can just look at some different places and neighborhoods. Get a feel for what you like.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, accepting defeat. “I’ll do it.”

“Ms. Evans?” The receptionist walked over to us. “Have you finished?”

Renee nodded and handed her the clipboard of papers. The receptionist looked down at Renee’s protruding stomach, beaming.

“So, how far along are you?” she asked, clasping her hands together.

“Six months,” Renee answered.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Renee shook her head. “It’s going to be a surprise. My fiancé doesn’t want to know.”

“Oh, that’s great. Congratulations.” She returned to her desk, then glanced over her shoulder in our direction. “Mr. Keller should be with you in a few minutes.”

“Mr. Keller, huh?” I turned to face Renee. “Is the President himself giving you a housing tour?”

“His son,” the receptionist corrected. “He’s in from New York to help set up the new office. But trust me, you’re in good hands.” She winked at Renee.

Renee leaned closer to me. “Do you think it’s weird that Dylan wants the baby’s sex to be a surprise?”

I shrugged. “Some people like surprises. Why?”

“Because it’s killing me,” she whispered. “I’ve thought about finding out and just not telling him.”

“Don’t,” I warned. Renee couldn’t keep anything to herself.

“I know. I won’t. I just really want to.”

“What do you think it is?”

She placed her right hand on her stomach and looked down. “I think it’s a boy. I’ve read that boys carry low.”

It was still so strange to me, seeing my best friend as a mother, hearing her use big-girl words like “fiancé.” It was like we had grown up overnight. I still pictured us as the girls who skipped class to smoke pot in the woods.

“Renee Evans?”

Oh, my. Well hello Mr. Keller. I had to assume it was Mr. Keller by the way he carried himself. He walked like he owned the place. And he looked like… wow. His face was perfectly chiseled, his body rock hard, his skin tanned and smooth, his eyes a nearly impossible shade of brown. I had never seen eyes like his. They were so light they were almost gold.

“Oh my God!” Renee’s scream rung through the entire office. By the time I looked over at her, she was already out of her seat, barreling towards him.

“I can’t believe it!” Renee threw her arms around him in a tight hug, then took a step back, studying him. “Walter, what are you doing here?”

Walter? How did I know that name? It sounded oddly familiar…

“Oh, fuck no!” I heard a loud yell from behind me, and turned around to find Dylan storming through the office, decked out in an all-leather ensemble. “No way! Absolutely not!”

Renee turned around and grabbed Dylan’s hand, pulling him closer. “Walter, I’m sure you remember Dylan.”

“Ah, yes, Dylan. Of course.” He flashed Dylan and Renee a charming smile. God, even his teeth were flawless. “So I see the two of you worked things out?”

“We did.” Renee glanced down at her stomach.

“Are you kidding me, Renee?” Dylan eyes were aflame. I’d never seen him so mad. Everyone in the office was starting to stare. “How could you not tell me this?”

“Relax,” Renee said in her calmest voice. “I had no idea this was his office until just now.” She turned to face Walter. “Are you living in Boston now?”

“No, I’m just here for a few weeks. My dad wanted to branch out and open an office here, so I’m helping him get everything up and running.”

Suddenly, Renee whipped around, remembering I was there. “Justine!” she called, motioning for me to come over and break the tension. I rose from my seat. “This is…”

“Walter,” I interrupted. “So I heard.” I extended my hand. “Justine Sterling.”

“Walter Keller,” he said, shaking it. “A pleasure.”

Is it ever, I thought. Who the hell was this guy? And why was Dylan so pissed?

“So, are we still going to…” Walter looked hesitantly between Renee and Dylan. “I mean, if you guys would prefer to use another agency, I completely understand.”

Dylan started to say something, but Renee silenced him. A slow smirk emerged on her face as she looked back at me. “Actually, Justine is looking for a new apartment.” She feigned an innocent expression. “Maybe the two of you should get started on that while Dylan and I discuss our options?”

“Sure,” Walter agreed, turning to face me. “Why don’t we go into my office and discuss the locations and price ranges you’re thinking of, and then we can see what’s available?”

I looked at Renee. Grinning like the little shit she was. But hell, if anything was going to help me get over David, Walter Keller was a good start.

Los Angeles, CA

April 2009

I didn’t sleep with David that night. I mean, sure, I slept with him, but not in the sexual sense. Only in the nocturnal sense.

After changing out of our soaking-wet swimsuits, David and I somehow ended up in my bed. I’m not really sure how it happened. One minute, I was curled up under my covers, trying to warm up because my hair was soaking wet. The next minute, David was sitting on the edge of my bed, attempting to continue our conversation. Eventually, we both fell asleep without leaving that general proximity.

By the time I woke up the next morning, David was no longer in my bed, so it sort of felt like it never happened. Instead, he was now in the kitchen, making coffee and eggs and toast. God, he was so damn perfect. Even in his gym shorts with messy bedhead. I remember, at that distinct moment, thinking about how much I wished I could find someone like him. And hating Renee for not realizing how lucky she was.

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