Last-Minute Love (Year of the Chick series) (5 page)

“I know you can’t but we’re getting some for Dave and bringing it by the office.”

I sighed like the sky was falling. “Seriously?”

“He h
eld back my hair when I puked, okay? So yes, seriously. And we can get some for Erik too.”

At the sound of Erik’s name my brain stirred awake, but I played it cool and didn’t say a word
.
This is a no-man trip ‘til the bitter end…

***

We were gathered around Erik’s desk laughing hysterically. No matter how much my hung-over ribs squeezed in pain with each “ha ha” I couldn’t stop. And it was all my fault. My sparkling personality wasn’t the actual cause of the hysteria, but a Bollywood music video that acted out Superman? With the most horrible dancing and special effects in the history of the world? Yes.

Once the video ended we
all stopped to catch our breath. “My friend sent me that clip to shame me,” I said. “But it only makes me prouder of my people.” I smiled widely.

“I will b
e saving that link right now,” said Erik. I watched his hand as it directed the mouse and clicked. It was a manly hand yet elegant in some way. This elegance went perfect with today’s Ryan-Gosling-style suit, which looked tailored as ever in a flattering light grey.

“Are you okay?” said Erik.

I quietly gasped when I realized he’d caught me staring at his hand. “We should go,” I quickly said. “It probably looks bad to have us loitering around your office.”

D
ave laughed. “Don’t worry Romes; work hard, play hard. And that includes ice cream.” Dave turned to feed Laura a spoonful of his ice cream, as I watched with a mixture of fascination and disgust.

“See babe?” said Dave. “Ice cream cures all.”

“Seriously guys,” I said. “I threw up enough last night.”

Erik laughed. “They’re so inconsiderate.”

I
offered Erik a smile, he deserved that at least. There was nothing more for me to give, because not only was Erik breaking my proximity rule, he was also breaking a rule I’d never even thought of...the one where the guy has a girlfriend. It occurred to me then, that of the two people on my mind right now, James Caldwell was by far less complicated.

The
guy living in Barcelona, is the LESS complicated one?!

I need to get back to meeting locals...

Chapter Four

On a balmy night in the East Village, a line-up of scantily dressed girls and eager-looking guys curved around what looked like an old warehouse. Dave, Laura and I had made it near the front of the queue, and with a few winks and smiles to the bouncer (not from Dave) we were finally in.

To my surprise,
we were each assigned our own personal security guard, which felt more like an airport than a trashy night club. Laura and Dave played it cool and got through quickly, but I had trouble getting used to being fondled like this. Like if it was a guy doing it? Then fine. But a middle-aged female security guard?
This is NOT how I roll.

“Hey!”
I said, as she patted down the cleavage that was popping from my royal blue “clubbing top” (i.e. a shirt so scandalous you wouldn’t dare wear it in daylight hours). “It’s not like I’m hiding drugs in my push-up bra,” I added.

The security guard glared
at me and continued her groping assault. “I mean IF I had drugs. Which I totally don’t.” I looked over at Laura and Dave who shook their heads, surely hoping  I’d shut up soon. They eventually disappeared, forced inside by the flow of incoming bodies. As for me I was getting the extended search. Perhaps saying the words “drugs” at a club was like saying the word “bomb” at an airport.
Lesson learned.

Now the security guard rifled t
hrough my purse, quickly retrieving a small tin of mints.

I rolled my eyes. “They’re mints, not ecstasy pills.” The next thing I kne
w the mints were in the trash but I was finally allowed to go in.
Note to self: avoid eating onions at all costs.

As I
entered the main dance hall, a steady beat of Euro techno trash reached its maximum vibration. Within seconds I was getting a headache.
I’m too old for this shit.
Through a crowd of mini-skirted hussies and wannabe ravers with glow sticks, I spotted Laura and Dave by the main bar.

I tried my best to yell over the music. “So tell me how an underage club fits
the bill for our awesome ‘no-man’ trip? AND you invited another man!” I thought of Erik who was somewhere in the crowd.

Laura shrugged her shoulders. “Erik’s
cousins are underage, and this is one of the places he can actually take them. Wouldn’t it be nice of us to keep him company?” She smiled.

I scowled.

“He just texted me,” said Dave. “They’re upstairs.” He gestured to a balconied area up above and we were off.
A lame-o night with the youngsters...

***

A balcony overlooked a packed dance hall, where a DJ on a tiny stage spun the not-so-great techno beats. The dancers didn’t seem to mind, too high on drugs or sex or both.

A
way from the dance floor view was a row of black leather couches, paired with rectangular tables in simple white. Dave pointed to Erik at one of those couches and led the way.

Wait...T
HAT’S Erik?

Erik was a man I barely knew, a man I’d only seen in
“skinny suits” thus far, so his out-of-office look was a surprise. His light brown hair was more askew than ever before, helped along by some glimmers of hair gel that reflected in the light. He wore a simple red golf shirt and jeans that highlighted his fit body. I took a second to admire his strong but not steroid-jacked arms, then quickly came to my senses.
He’s wearing a golf shirt and jeans. WHO CARES?

Reminding myself that Erik was just a normal-lo
oking guy like every other guy, I finally noticed his cousins. One had the sturdy mass of a female football player, and straight blonde hair falling stiffly to her shoulders. The other was a mousey brunette, so small she’d disappear if you squinted for even a second. How could these two be related?

“That’s my
cousin Anna,” said Erik, pointing to the tall one. “And this is Sylvia.”
The mouse.

Perfectly
in sync, they both waved hello in the exact same awkward way.

Oh,
so THAT’S how they’re related.

Erik as we knew was past the waves hello, so he man-hugged Dave yet again, embraced Laura, and last in line was
me. Our hug was out of sync so it ended quickly. It was almost like he was trying not to touch my body, whereas I was trying to hide underneath the table. We both had our reasons to avoid it.

Before any terrible chit-chat on the weather or New York City landmarks could ensue, the cousins hung their purses around Erik’s neck
, and in a flash disappeared to the dance floor.

“What do you guys want to drink?” said Dave.

I clutched my stomach and groaned. “I’m still recovering. Maybe just a ginger-ale?”

Erik pointed to a half-empty
bottle of beer. “I’m all set.”

“Okay, we’ll
be right back.” He put his arm around Laura and guided her through the crowd.

“Thanks!” I yelled after them.

Suddenly I was alone with a guy wearing two purses, a guy who looked so different from a high-powered investment banker.

Erik stood proudly with his hands on his hips. “
Is this a good look for me?”

I scrunched my nose
. “I like it better when you DON’T look like a woman.” I sauntered past him and plopped myself on the couch, back in my not-caring mode of relaxation.

To my su
rprise he sat right next to me.

O
ur denimed thighs touched.

For the first few
moments, we just sat there staring ahead. I let the silence continue, because I wasn’t about to make an effort with a guy who broke my biggest rule.

“
Romi,” he suddenly said. I turned and his pale blue eyes tore their way through me again, only now more intense than those times at the office. And had any guy ever looked this hot in eyeglasses?
Dammit.

I finally spoke. “What is it?” I tried avoiding his gaze by searching for Laura or Dave in the crowd.

“What do you do for fun?”

Ah, so
he’s pulling out questions from the “awkward first-date” database.

I shrugged my shoulder
s. “I don’t know...I guess I do what everybody does. Going to the movies, reading, long walks on the beach at sunset...” I stopped to laugh for a second. “Seriously, why are you asking me this?”

“Because I wanted to see if you would lie.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

He laid on his warmest smile yet. “Don’t be mad. It’s just that Dave
and I were talking, and he told me you’re a writer, and how it’s your dream to publish a novel, and then I checked out your blog...”

He may have said a
bit more but I could no longer hear him. My heart was beating too loudly in my ears, and it muffled out any sounds. Who was this guy? And why the hell was he reading my private stuff on the very...public Internet?
Whatever.

Well aware I was blushing
now, but feeling safe that I was wearing enough bronzer to hide it, I went into defensive mode. “Why are you reading about me on the Internet? Aren’t you too busy broadening people’s investment portfolios to care about reading blogs?”

Now he
was the one blushing. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

I sighed, suddenly remembering
that my “no-man” trip did not include being a bitch. “No it’s fine. I’m just not used to strangers looking me up on the Internet. But if I’m going to be an author...I guess I should expect it!” I laughed nervously.

He
seemed to be having a thought, as he ran his fingers along one of the purse straps that adorned his chest. It was emasculating, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He moved in closer before continuing, our faces only inches apart. “So...if I can ask you, your ‘Year of the Chick’ blog will be a book?”

“That’s right!”
I blushed again and avoided his stare. I felt so exposed to have someone besides James talking about my writing.
There he is in my head again...frickin’ James!

“Well I think your book will be a hit,” he said firmly. “There’s heartbreak underneath the humour, and that makes it real.”

I eyed him curiously. “You have a lot of insight for a big-time corporate guy.”

He smiled
. “I am getting this feeling that you don’t like investment bankers.”

Just then
Dave and Laura returned with the drinks, and I couldn’t have been more relieved to end the conversation. I wanted it to end because in just a few lines, Erik had become a lot more interesting than the usual “corporate rats,” the ones so obsessed with making their way to the top. Which for me and my biggest rule, was exactly what I didn’t need...

***

A while later, as I sipped on my second ginger-ale, I noticed Erik and his cousins having a serious conference. Hands were waving wildly, and the Danish words flew out at lightning-fast speed.

The girls looked over at me from time to time, their faces crawling with suspicion.
I wasn’t quite sure what paranoid thoughts they were thinking so I simply smiled.

Did
I seriously just go from awkward hellos to public enemy number one?

***

The cousins were off dancing again, while Laura and Dave were off somewhere getting frisky. This left Erik and I leaning against the balcony, observing the chaos below. I wasn’t keen on having more conversation, but I wasn’t going to ignore him either, so instead I tried to be distracting.

“Hey look,
” I said. “Two guys making out.”

“I don’t need to look, thank you very much.”

I smiled. “So what’s Denmark like?”
Another good distraction.

He turned to me
and his eyes brightened. “Let’s see...it’s cozy, quaint, and beautiful. Denmark has so many rolling hills, so much farm land, sparkling lakes, and a wonderful city centre too. Nice architecture, very artistic---”

“Wow,” I quickly said. “L
ook how much you miss it.”

He shook his head. “But then there is New York. The energy, the life force, the culture…I am in love with this city.”

“So is it New York then or is it Denmark? Your love?”

He started to blush. “Can’t it be both?”

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. “I don’t know.”

“What about you? You have lots of Indian traditions but you’re such a cool Canadian
too.”

I laughed. “Whatever you say.”

“I’d never even seen a Bollywood film until they started to play them on the plane, you know on my visits back home. And then I met you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Trust me I
am NOT anything like those Bollywood starlets. They don’t even sing their own songs!” I frowned. “Like there’s some dowdy old lady trapped in a recording studio singing all those songs, with a lip-syncing ‘ho bag taking all the glory! It’s actually pretty sad.”

I could
see him laughing but he looked away, grabbing the railing with both hands and stretching back. I watched as his forearm veins popped, and now it was my turn to look away.
Oh god.

He turned back and smiled. “What I was trying to say was…I’d never seen
those movies until a month ago...then you show up.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well that’s just a silly coincidence.
”

“Okay maybe, but that’s not all. La
st month I started reading this book set in India…”

“
Oh yeah?” He was talking about a book which meant he automatically had my full attention.
Nerd alert.

“Oh yes it’s a wonderful book. It’s based on a true story,
about a man who escaped an Australian prison and fled to India. He changed his name---”

“Joined the Indian mafia and opened
a medical clinic in the slums!” I was practically jumping up and down as I finished his sentence. “It’s ‘Shantaram’!”

“Yes!” H
e looked like he wanted to lift me up and spin me around, and in that moment I probably would’ve let him.

“That book
’s like nine hundred pages,” I said. “I don’t know anybody else who’s actually read it.” Strangely enough, James was the one who had told me about the book, but when I’d run out and bought it so we could read it together like some overseas soul-mate book club, he’d admitted that he didn’t even own it. He’d just heard about it and thought I might like it. Then of course I read it cover-to-cover and loved it, leading me to here, where I now shared this nerdy-book moment with someone else.
Irony? Fate?

Erik
smiled warmly. “I guess we will call this another silly coincidence.”

I smiled back but quickly
looked away.
Why can’t he just be a boring number-cruncher? GAH!