What Love Looks Like Page 12

  I listened to classical music in my office, hoping that it might soothe me and ease the withdrawal of leaving him. If spending the weekend with Jay was the epitome of pleasure, leaving him was the embodiment of pain. Somewhere between Penny acting as if she actually cared how my “procedure” went over the long weekend and Jenna texting to tell me that Ryan was pissed about something that had happened at one of my events on Saturday night was an emptiness that even the strongest double latte couldn’t fill.

  “Elle Coppola speaking,” I said, answering a call that Maureen had transferred to my private line. I was wearing my headset, which made me feel like a glorified switchboard operator. But I knew I’d have a whole slew of calls to make following a Friday out of the office.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Ryan’s voice said curtly over the phone. Momentarily, I felt relieved. His was a familiar voice, and one I now looked forward to hearing on the other end.

  “Hey, you,” I said, giving him my full attention.

  “Hi.” He cleared his throat. He was being petulant again.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “We had a little problem Saturday night.”

  He was referring to a dinner for a dry-cleaning company that was rewarding its staff for a profitable first quarter. I’d planned the event, but obviously wasn’t there to oversee it person, as I was in the throes of passion all weekend.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  “The owner of the company apparently has a wife with a bunch of dietary issues, and that wasn’t noted on the private event contract. So when the server was taking orders and didn’t know ahead of time that there was a macrobiotic vegan in attendance, she threw a shit fit.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Over that?”

  “Yeah. Obviously a housewife with nothing better to do than call me bitching about this on a Monday morning. So I told her that you and I would bring lunch to her husband’s staff tomorrow to try and make up for our error. And that appeased her.”

  “Way to save the day, Ryan.” I said. “But we don’t do outside catering, remember?”

  “Well, we do now—for her anyway. I don’t want her calling corporate and getting you in trouble.” That was nice; petulance aside, Ryan had my back.

  “Ugh—reality is setting in. Macrobiotic vegans? Seriously?”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, sorry. After the weekend I had, I’m finding being back at work today rather challenging.”

  “Oh yeah, you were sick, right?” He was showing a certain softness for the first time. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” I said. His concern made me smile. “So I guess I’ll be at the restaurant tomorrow at eleven, and we can head over to their headquarters and try and smooth everything over.”

  “Great.”

  “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “Anytime.” He abruptly hung up the phone.

  Morning quickly became afternoon. For once I was relieved about the mountain of work I had because it made the time pass by quickly. It was also one day fewer between Jay’s and my next reunion. He texted me throughout day, and I was doing my best to respond only to every three messages, so as not to seem too eager. Our conversation was something to the tune of this:

  Jay: This weekend was crazy

  Jay: Don’t you agree?

  Me: Crazy how?

  Jay: Crazy hot, I like the way you fuck

  Jay: Actually I like the way you do a lot of things

  Jay: Like the face you make when you come

  Me: You’re making me blush

  Jay: You’re so innocent, I love it

  Jay: I can’t wait to see you again

  Me: I can’t wait either, I had an awesome time, and ps, I like the way you fuck too

  I almost died from saying something so vulgar. Had my mother witnessed my slutty messages, she would have surely disowned me. But I had to swallow my pride to keep him interested. Even his text messages sent me into arousal and made me flush with embarrassment. The afternoon flew by as I completed what felt like hundreds of minuscule tasks that I hadn't been there to do the Friday before. I rushed out of the office at six on the dot to get home to Luna, whom I worried was starting to forget me.

  I spent the night catching up on recorded TV, annoyed that Jay didn’t phone me until nine o’clock. He called to say his day had been hectic and that he missed me and hoped I slept well. It was a brief conversation, but it was better than no phone call at all. At his suggestion, I did sleep well for a change, without alcohol interfering with my rest or affecting how I felt when I woke up. The downside was that after my weekend with Jay, the night felt excruciatingly lonely.

  The next day I met Ryan at his restaurant. He was in good spirits and was all smiles as, coatless in spite of the cool weather, he loaded his car. He piled up platters of shrimp cocktails, tenderloin sandwiches, antipasto, and cheesecake; he’d really gone all out in an attempt to thwart any complaints from our customer to the corporate office.

  “I can’t thank you enough for doing all of this.” I said.

  “No problem.”

  “As much as the customer is completely blowing this out of proportion, I can just hear the sound of Penny’s voice, lecturing me about getting as much information as humanly possible from the guest prior to arrival, and how the customer is always right, and blah blah blah. Stuff she’d never say to you, but it’s enough to make my stomach turn.”

  Ryan laughed. “Yeah, she’s a little shitty toward you, huh?”

  “Understatement of the century.”

  Ryan and I sat in silence for a few seconds, and I remembered the night we sang to the Beatles together. It was such a sweet recollection that it evoked an involuntary grin on my face. I glanced over at him and noticed that he was looking at my exposed leg, which peeked out from my gray pencil skirt into his passenger-side console. He must have sensed that I'd caught him looking because we made immediate eye contact. I raised my eyebrows at him and could tell that I’d embarrassed him. I found his self-consciousness endearing.

  “Sorry,” he said. I smiled and let it slide. “So you were sick this weekend?” He cleared his throat.

  “Oh.” I paused. I couldn’t lie to him. We’d become friends, and he knew that I was seeing Jay. I would have to tell him the truth. “That was just what I told Penny.”

  “Oh? Where were you really?”

  “I was in New York.” I knew he would know why. “Visiting Jay,” I added, just to clarify.

  “Ah, you played hooky.” Ryan stiffened somewhat.

  “Yes. But keep that between us.”

  “Of course. So how was it?”

  “It was incredible.” I was grateful for the opportunity to discuss Jay. So far I’d only shared my experience with Maureen at the office and Emily when she picked me up from the airport.

  “So it’s getting serious?” he asked.

  “It looks that way. We’re going to give it a shot.”

  “That’s great. You deserve to be happy. But what about the distance?”

  “That remains to be seen, but we’re going to try.” I said.

  We made it to the dry-cleaners’ headquarters within just a few minutes, and we each walked two food trays to the front door. A smiling receptionist rushed to open it for us and warmly welcomed us in. That was the wonderful thing about Columbus and the whole Midwest; people were unbelievably friendly.

  “Hi there,” Ryan said, turning on a level of charm I wasn’t aware he possessed.

  “How can I help you?” the receptionist asked, returning to her desk and still smiling.

  “We’re here to drop off lunch,” Ryan said. The receptionist seemed to hang on his every word. He had an almost Jay Conrad-like effect on the woman (though not quite that caliber), and I wondered why I’d never noticed it before. Maybe it was something he reserved only for customers. “I’m Ryan Adler, General Manager of East Coast Prime, and this is Elle Coppola, Private Dining Manager.” I smiled and attempted to ma
ke eye contact with her, but she was stuck on Ryan. It was actually comical how spellbound she was.

  Within moments she led us into the boardroom where the employees eagerly awaited their free lunch, and Ryan again turned on the charm. The mostly female staff looked dreamy when speaking to Ryan and seemed captivated by his every word. I served virtually no purpose because everyone was so taken with him. He handled the entire thing beautifully. It definitely was not an appointment he needed me for; if anything, my presence was probably doing more harm than good. I was, however, thankful to be out of the office and to finally see what all the fuss over Ryan was about. I’d always heard how suave he was with guests at the restaurant, and now I was seeing it firsthand.

  “So ladies, again, we do apologize that your boss’s wife was displeased, but she graciously granted us the opportunity to make it right by providing lunch for you today,” he said.

  “Oh don’t worry about her, she’s just a bitch.” One lady said, prompting a few of the others to bellow with laughter. “Nothing makes her happy. The entire night was wonderful.” She smiled at him and winked at her girlfriend across the table.

  “Well, please enjoy it on us, and we hope to see you again next quarter.”

  “We hope so too!” one of the younger girls said, and a few of the others chuckled, including me.

  We thanked the receptionist again on our way out and headed back to the car. “Way to turn up the charm, Adler.” I nudged him in the arm. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

  “All in a day’s work,” he said. “Just trying to make you look good.” I smiled and rolled my eyes at him. “Do you want to grab some lunch?”

  I hadn’t realized we’d be doing anything other than dropping off the food, but I hadn’t eaten yet and didn’t want to go back to the office quite yet.

  “How about North Market?” I suggested, referencing the enormous indoor café/farmer’s market that was right downtown. I knew Jenna and Ryan ate there all of the time, but I rarely got to enjoy the delicious ethnic cuisine. I’d spent all weekend barely eating with Jay (the guy was borderline manorexic), so I was keyed up to dig in.

  The market was busy, and we each went in separate directions to get food from different vendors. Ryan got a sandwich from the Italian vendor, and I had a salad from the Mediterranean stand. We reconvened in the dining area and unwrapped our lunches as we both sipped on sodas. What a luxury to actually eat lunch with someone. I made a mental note to always give my workforce a generous lunch break whenever I finally owned a company.

  “Smells delicious,” I said. My falafel and fattoush salad looked appetizing, but Ryan’s meatball sub looked even better.

  “I feel like I need a bib.”

  I laughed and nearly spewed out my Diet Coke. The idea of the perpetually polished Ryan Adler wearing a bib struck me as hilarious.

  “Just dig in—it’s all messy,” I said, and he smiled. “This is nice to get out of the office. Maureen and I usually eat at our desks.”

  “Are you girls that busy?”

  “Yes. Mostly with paperwork for corporate.”

  “You’ve got to slow down and enjoy the day a little more,” he said, biting into his sandwich.

  “This coming from the guy who works seventy hours a week.”

  “Good point. So you enjoyed New York?”

  “Very much. It’s such an awesome city.”

  “And the company?” Ryan fumbled a little, and I wasn’t certain if it was due to the topic of conversation or to his massive sandwich dripping everywhere.

  “Let’s just say it was a very good weekend.” I winked and flashed him a smile.

  “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  But I went on to tell him anyway—not the dirtiest details, of course, but I did tell him about the restaurants and bars that we’d gone to, thinking that based on his career choice, he might appreciate what the New York culinary scene had to offer.

  While we ate and talked, a refreshing sense of effortlessness came over me. The conversation was natural, almost expected. From the way we moved from one topic to another with ease, I felt as if I were lunching with a friend from college. There was no silence or awkwardness to speak of. It felt as if I’d known Ryan forever. There was simplicity in being with him, a simplicity that I didn’t have with Jay. But I supposed that was what sex did to a relationship, though it was impractical for me to speculate on relationships since it had been so long since I’d had one. Jay was erotic, steamy, and edgy, and I loved that. Ryan was the opposite: real, honest, and warm. And I very much liked that too.

  14

  Three and a half weeks had gone by. Translation: I was twenty-five days closer to seeing Jay again. Feverishly, my loins ached for his. His visit was set for the very first weekend that we were both available, and I’d filled the days and nights with romantic (but not cheesy) activities. Friday night would be dinner, just the two of us at Bel Lago, which overlooked the Hoover Reservoir. And Saturday would be a night out with my college friends, who were dying to meet Jay after seeing his Facebook pictures and hearing about our weekend in New York. Naturally, I was dying for them to meet him too and to finally have my moment of glory; I'd proved that she who has the most patience is bestowed the greatest reward.

  I had to admit that Jay and I hadn’t worked out the long-distance thing to perfection. We communicated daily via text message, but I believed that for the relationship to be successful we should talk on the phone daily too. I refused to be the one to call more often—I didn’t think it would be a wise idea with a guy like Jay, who’d emphasized his aversion to clinginess. So my resolution to phone him only occasionally and his apparent refusal to call me every day led to only two or three phone conversations a week.

  I planned to address the subject of phone calls with him just as soon as we’d had a few cocktails together and I could more convincingly act as if I weren’t upset with him; I would simply make a suggestion, based on my personal experience, that we talk more. I had a feeling that he was clueless as to how men with girlfriends were supposed to behave. That was okay, though, because I was more than willing to educate him on appropriate boyfriend etiquette.

  “Hello?” I said into the phone.

  “Hey,” Erica said. She was confirming our plans for Saturday night.

  “Yes, we’re still on!” I was annoyed that she thought we would be off for any reason.

  “I can’t wait to meet your boy toy. Everyone’s really excited for you!”

  “I’m excited too. He’s great—you’ll love him.”

  “I can’t believe you’re in a relationship.”

  “Well, believe it,” I said, slightly offended.

  “Burgundy Room, eight o’clock?”

  “You got it. I’ll be the one with the arm candy.”

  The moment I hung up with Erica, it dawned on me that I hadn’t spoken with Jay in forty-eight hours, and so I decided to give him a call.

  “Hey,” he said casually, his tone bordering on annoyance.

  “How was your day?” It was just days before his visit, and I had yet to go over our plans with him.

  “Crazy. Work’s out of control.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully you can relax a little this weekend.”

  “Yeah, about that . . .” he said.

  I felt plunged into panic, my stomach dropping. Where was he going with that comment? “What about it?” I asked quickly, trying to play it cool.

  “I might have a work thing in New York on Saturday.”

  “Might? How is that possible? You never work Saturdays.” As someone who had to fight tooth and nail for a Saturday off, I was always conscious of those who had the luxury of work-free weekends.

  “My boss wants me to go to this networking thing with one of our biggest clients, in town from Germany for the next month. Trust me, I’m not happy about it either.”

  “So how definite is this?” I asked, alarmed.

  “At the moment it looks pretty defini
te.” There was only a tinge of remorse in his voice. “I’m really sorry. I tried to get out of it. I’m still trying to.”

  I wasn’t convinced. “I’m so upset,” I said, unable to disguise my reaction. I couldn’t play it cool following such disappointing news.

  “I’m sorry. I was so excited to see you. And to meet Lola.”

  “Luna.”

  “Right, Luna. Trust me, no one is more pissed about this than I am.”

  “I just don’t get how they can spring this on you so last minute.”

  “It’s random, I know.”

  “So, should we, like, reschedule?” I asked, hesitantly.

  “Uh, yeah, definitely.”

  I awaited specifics, but there were none. “Like for when?”

  “E-mail me a few dates, and I’ll get my ticket changed.”

  He sounded so nonchalant, whereas I was beside myself, to put it mildly. If I’d been required to work without advance warning on the weekend we were supposed to be together, I’d at least have put up a fight. It didn’t sound as if he'd even tried to get out of it. And I wasn't convinced this work alibi was even the truth. My mind went directly to the damning words of Jay’s cousin, then to the purple shoebox in his closet, and then to the admissions from Jay himself. My instincts told me that he was full of shit. But that wasn’t fair. Jay had been nothing but forthcoming to me, even about the unpleasant truths of his past.

  After we said goodbye, I sat blankly on my sofa sobbing for a solid five minutes. I then lolled around feeling sorry for myself and curled up into the fetal position while Luna licked away what remained of my tears. I didn’t know what I would say to my friends. Erica said she “couldn’t believe I was in a relationship,” and now that Jay wasn’t coming, her disbelief would be unyielding.

  I turned on music and poured a glass of wine from a bottle of Shiraz that Ryan had recommended. It was delicious, especially with the slight chill he suggested, and it was the only thing keeping me somewhat calm. My tears dried out after my first glass, and I came to the realization that maybe I’d been a little selfish. Jay was the one who had to spend the weekend working, and I was the one crying about it. How juvenile of me. I would simply inform my friends that my very important boyfriend had a very important obligation back in New York City, one that he simply couldn’t get out of.