Face Time (2 page)

I smile lightly at him, and he smiles back, a zap of energy running between us that startles me enough to touch the blush on my neck. My skin is burning under my cold fingers.

Maybe…

He drains the last of his bourbon and sets his glass down. “Well, Laura, I hate to leave you like this, but I need to go to bed before I pass out. Jet lag.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, I totally understand.” Keeping the disappointment from my voice, I futz with my iPhone, turning it on and off. “I’m done with my drink and should get something to eat before going to bed. Have you eaten?”

Lee pulls out his wallet and a mass of colored bills flash before me, all shapes and sizes, receipts, and credit cards, all neatly tucked away but impressive in their amount. “Yeah, I ate before coming back here. Let me settle the tab.”

“No.” I push his wallet back with a light touch, trying not to brush his hand. “Really. Drinks are on me. Charice has my card on file.”

He hesitates for a moment, and I try to make eye contact and smile, but heat is pouring off my body so rapidly I’m starting to sweat. “If you insist.”

I’m glad he wasn’t going to argue with me. I hate when people do that.

I toss my iPhone in my bag, and, once Lee is turned from me, I grasp the front of my sweater, pumping the fabric in and out to get cool air to my torso. I follow Lee out along the crowd of people, wave to Charice with one hand, holding my coat in the other, and she jerks her head at Lee with a smile. I mouth back, “No,” and shake my head. I’m sure Charice was watching us talk the whole time, hoping he’d ask me out or something, but no. Not going to happen.

The Blue Bar is attached to the Algonquin, a small, luxury, boutique hotel with a distinct literary history. Dorothy Parker and her round table of friends lunched at this hotel all the time and people often lodge here for this fact. Lee exits the bar straight into the lobby, and I step in behind him slipping on my black boiled wool fitted coat and wrapping my bright pink scarf around my neck.
 

“It was nice to meet you, Lee. I hope you get some rest and your day here tomorrow isn’t too long. I hear the temp will be in the fifties. You should eat lunch outside.” I extend my hand to him, being careful not to let it shake from tiredness, gin, and the fact I was having a good time talking to him and didn’t want the evening to end.

He grasps my hand and holds it tightly for a moment, turning it on its side and rubbing his thumb over the back. It’s such a familiar gesture, and I wasn’t prepared for how genuinely bittersweet a good-bye would be, my heart beating faster, and my mouth drying.
 

He really is handsome. I always go for tall, white men, blond, good-looking and adventuresome, but never Asian men, even after all the time I spent in the Far East in my early twenties. Why did I not think of them? Lee is casual and relaxed, wearing a beautifully cut shirt and flat-front tailored black pants, shined business shoes, and his sleeves cling to his strong upper arms. Breathing is difficult right about now.

When Lee lets go of my hand, I stuff it in my pocket and finger my Metrocard, wetting my now dry lower lip. I should stop wanting things I can’t have.

“Thank you for the drink, Laura.”

“You’re welcome.” I wave and turn to go, buttoning up my coat, but before I can exit, Lee calls my name.

“Are you busy tomorrow night? I’m in meetings until six, but I’d love for you to have dinner with me.”

“Oh. Hmmm,” I say, thinking. Friday night. I usually go out drinking and clubbing all night until I can’t stand or speak anymore and someone stuffs me in a cab home. Ha, just joking. That was me ten years ago. Now, I attend a spin class at the gym and then head home for takeout and a movie. I know, thrilling, right? “I think I’m free. I could have dinner with you, if you like.”

His face softens and splits into a wide, charming smile. “Meet here between 6:30 and 7:00?”

I point back at the Blue Bar. “I’ll be right there.”

“Great. Good night.”

Lee waits while I exit the hotel before turning to head up to his room. I wasn’t expecting a date.
 

Wait, dinner isn’t a date. It’s just dinner with someone he can talk to instead of having room service. Whatever. I didn’t have anything else to do, and I didn’t want our conversation to end earlier anyway. So, dinner? Why not?

(>’o’)> ♥ <(‘o’<)

The lobby at work is quiet at 7:45am. Normally, I’m not in the office until 9:00am, and even then, I drop my bag at my desk, boot up my computer, and head straight to the cafeteria for breakfast. If Mary, my boss, is in, I get breakfast for us both. I like egg, cheese, and a sausage on whole wheat toast. She likes oatmeal with brown sugar, cinnamon, and pecans. I’ve been working for her for the past three years, and, before Mary, for a another woman I liked, but she left to work for a different network.
 

All told, I have worked here five years which is hard to believe. Before this, I never held a job for longer than a year. This job and my return to New York was a concession I made to keep the peace in the family. All the years I spent waiting tables, working hostess jobs, and tending bar throughout the South taught me the good manners I needed to be an administrative assistant. My job is a lot of diplomatic smiles, talking on the phone, and sitting quietly in the room while Mary manages huge, network-sweeping projects.
 

I swipe my badge at the turnstiles, wave to the security guards, and head up to the office, my short heels clicking on the marble floors and echoing through the lobby. When I get to my desk, Mary’s door is open and the lights are on. Her corner office overlooking Grace Plaza at the intersection of Sixth Avenue and Forty-third street is one of the best offices on the floor. The view this morning is taxi cabs in traffic and endless red brake lights leading uptown.

“Good morning, Mary. You’re in early.” I peek my head in before I even take off my coat, and Mary is searching through her email at her desk, her short, straight blond hair pinned back over her ears.

“The kids all decided to get up at five. They have no respect for my schedule whatsoever.” She laughs and sips
 
her coffee. Mary has two young kids, and her husband takes the morning shift. “Bill didn’t want to get up, and since I had to be here early anyway, I got them dressed and came straight in.”

“Do you need more coffee? I can run to the caf for you.”

“No, thanks. There’ll be breakfast at the meeting this morning, right?”

“Yes. I had it taken care of.” Taking off my coat, I slip back out of her office and hang it up.

“Thanks, Laura,” Mary shouts from her desk. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be late for all your meetings and starve to death, Mary.”

She laughs, and though I can’t see her, I know she’s nodding her head. “You’re right. Hey, come back in here.”

I grab my moleskine I keep all my notes in and re-enter her office.

“You look different today, Laura. Hot date tonight?”

When I picked out my outfit this morning, I wondered if it was too much. It must be too much.

“Is it too much?” I ask, sweeping my hands down. I left my long hair down and curled and decided on a black V-neck sweater that shows some cleavage. I wavered over my dark red skinny pants. All the time I spend in the gym (because I have nothing better to do) means I can wear the skinniest of pants without feeling self-conscious, but I tend to wear trousers to work or even jeans. We’re laid back here.

“No, absolutely not,” she says with a smile. “You must be going on a date then. Who is he?”

“It’s not a date. Just dinner. He’s some guy I met last night who’s in town for a few days.” I wave my hand and scrunch my nose. “Not relationship material.” I wish he was.

“Okay.” Her sly smile makes me laugh.

“Mary. I swear. Just dinner.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a date, Laura, but I’m happy to see you go out again… After Rene.”

“Thanks.” I shift on my feet. I try never to think of Rene anymore. He was karmic payback for all the stupid shit I did in my twenties, for all the guys I met, slept with, and left.

“How’s your mom doing?” Mary asks, sipping the last of her coffee and throwing the cup in the trash.

“Good. The usual. Museums and fancy trips with the latest boyfriend, lots of walking, dinners with my aunt. Thanks for asking. I’m going to get coffee, and I’ll meet you in the conference room.”

I was wrong to wear the hot, revealing pants for this dinner tonight. I shouldn’t flirt with Lee anyway. I can’t bring him home, and I don’t trust hotel rooms on first dates. Tomorrow, Lee will be on a plane back to Seoul, and I will never see him again. Well, too late now. I have nothing else to change in to.

“Damn, Laura,” Dana, another admin, calls out as I pass her desk. “Those pants are awesome. Your legs look a mile long.”

Turning all the way around as I hit my stride, I laugh back at her. The pants will be fine.

The sun dips low in the sky, bouncing off the buildings, and blinding me at every turn. I don’t know why, but sunglasses are the things I lose the most traveling. I never have a pair handy. The last pair of sunglasses I purchased fell out of my bag on the plane and I stepped on them, completely shattering the lenses. I handed them off to the flight attendant with a shrug of my shoulders. This trip to New York is too short. I have no time to hop on the subway to Chinatown and pick up a new pair. That’s what I would have done tonight if I hadn’t impulsively asked Laura out for dinner.

“We should break up for good, Lee. You don’t seem interested in coming home and taking the job at your father’s friend’s firm. And I haven’t seen you in six months.”

Sandra’s last email bounces around in my head twenty-four-hours a day now. I haven’t spoken to her in three weeks, and she’s done nothing to keep in touch since. No more emails, no texts, no calls. Nothing. No, I don’t want to move back home to Seattle. No, I don’t want to practice boring corporate law. I asked Sandra to move to Seoul six months ago, and she turned me down then suggested we see other people. Last week, my older brother, Jin, and I FaceTimed so I could chat with my nephews and he said Sandra was at Jerrod’s wedding with my ex-best friend, Matt.

I know Sandra. She thinks Matt is an asshole with a huge ego, and she’s always secretly hated him. Between being his wedding date in full view of my sister and her silence, Sandra’s baiting me again. The price for getting her back this time will be painfully high. All or nothing. I’m leaning towards never calling her again.
 

I slow my pace, realizing I’m walking at light speed, in and out of other suits on their way home from work. My anger at Sandra has propelled me down ten blocks so fast I’m breaking a sweat. I need to slow down and take a look around for once. I’m in New York, not Seoul, not Shanghai, not Tokyo. This block of Forty-fourth Street is not as busy as Fifth Avenue, and my stride shortens even more, leisurely observing every window, every person passing me, every car double parked on the street. A strong breeze sends bits of dust flying into my eyes, and I shut them and turn away. Laura is right. It
is
a shame I’m never in a city long enough to enjoy the sights, the sounds, or the culture. But what’s the point? I could lengthen my trips, but I get lonely. Cities can be good friends, fast and exciting, familiar and loving, until you’re waiting for a table for one, then they’re cold and empty.

My iPhone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from my best friend, Cori, back in Seoul.

Cori Winslow

You’re home on Sunday, right?
 

Chris, Evie, and I were hoping you’d have lunch with us before you recover from your trip.

Seoul is about thirteen hours ahead of New York, so Cori must be up for the day and making plans for the whole weekend.

Lee Park

No. Flight lands at 4pm your time. Better make it dinner. I’ll sleep on the plane.

It’s 6:15 now, and I told Laura to meet me between 6:30 and 7:00, so I pick up my pace and stride into the hotel, checking the bar. No Laura. She’s not here yet. What if she stands me up? I don’t have her phone number or even her last name. What if I’ve successfully asked a woman out to dinner for the first time in three years, and she blows me off?

Cori Winslow

Sounds good. Are you getting dinner tonight any place special?

This is why Cori is my best friend, though technically her husband holds that role. She can read my mind.

I have barely enough time to get upstairs and change before meeting Laura, and I punch the elevator buttons forcefully as if that’ll get me to my suite faster.
 

Lee Park

Don’t know where I’m eating.

Truth, I asked a woman I met yesterday at the hotel bar if she’d have dinner with me.

Bad idea?

In my room, I throw my bag on the bed and sit down for a moment in the desk chair. My phone buzzes again, and this time I hesitate to pull it from my pocket.

Cori Winslow

LEE. Are you kidding me? How could you even think it was a bad idea?

Lee Park

I can feel your enthusiasm from here.
 

What if she doesn’t show?
 

I just asked her to meet me. That’s it.

Cori Winslow

Then you go out to dinner by yourself and it’s her loss.
 

You didn’t tell S did you?

Lee Park

No. I still haven’t talked to her.

Cori Winslow

Good. Don’t.

I knew she’d say that. Now, I’m stuck. I didn’t bring an extra set of clothes with me for this trip — just the suit for today and traveling clothes for tomorrow. I was in Shaghai before New York, and I had most of my clothes sent home before this last leg so I wouldn’t have to carry them halfway around the world. I open my bag and evaluate my wardrobe options, deciding to change my undershirt, and wear the casual green, buttoned shirt I planned on wearing tomorrow. I’ll leave on my dress pants and save my jeans for the flight home. The city was warm today and a sweater is enough for me for the evening. The temperature will stay in the fifties overnight.