Waiting for Mr. Darcy (5 page)

“She may have had a point.” Lauren stopped to think. “But now it's the light of day and who knows what Randy thinks now.”

“Did he sneak out before you woke up?”

“No. He stayed and made me breakfast to help my hangover.”

“He made you breakfast in your kitchen?” Alicia was shocked.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “If you must know, he made some calls to get some provisions.”

“I bet he did. Your kitchen is practically a museum.”

“Very funny,” she said dryly.

“It's the truth.” Alicia leaned in. “So how did you leave things?”

“He kissed me and said he'd call me later.”

“That's promising. He didn't exactly blow you off.”

“I don't remember if I gave him my number. Hell, I didn't remember I slept with him until he kissed me good-bye.”

“And it all came flooding back, did it?”

“Oh, yes.” Lauren relished the thought.

“If it was that good, Lauren, I'm sure he has your number.”

“Then why haven't I heard from him yet?”

“He's a guy. I know it's been a while since I dated but I'm pretty sure guy time hasn't changed much. They never call when you think they should.”

“You're right about that.”

“Do yourself a favor and stop sweating it. He'll call. It hasn't been that long, and he does have a restaurant to run.”

“True,” she sighed.

“Did you call Gabby?”

“I tried to call her on the way over here but she didn't pick up. I halfway expected to see her here.”

“It's Saturday. This is her day to check out the latest works from some of Central Park's finest street artisans. We'll probably hear from her later.”

“Right.”

Alicia stood up. “Are you hanging out here for a while?”

“Yes. I'd like to catch up with my godson and maybe have some of that jambalaya.” She stood up.

“Be my guest.”

Lauren looked a little worried for a moment.

“Don't worry, your new little love muffin will call,” Alicia teased as she opened the door.

“Oh, you are never going to let this go, are you?”

“Are you kidding? This is way too good,” Alicia said devilishly.

“You know, you really need your own love life.”

“Why? When I can have more fun living vicariously between you and Gabby, it's all the drama I need.”

Chapter 5

After a morning of artist watching, Gabby and Nigel got a couple of ice cream sundaes and found an empty bench.

“Now this is what I call a great lunch choice,” Nigel grinned.

“Yes. I'm happy to say I have three of the basic food groups, cream, sugar and chocolate.”

“Here, here.” They toasted with their sundae cups.

Gabby looked around the park. “Now this is what I love about Central Park. Where else can you dine a la carte and still get the best seat in the house?”

“True.” He had another spoonful of ice cream. “So is this how you always spend your weekends?”

“It is for the last four years since my divorce. Before that my weekends were all about my family's activities, especially my children.”

“How many children do you have?”

“Two. My son, Ian, and my daughter, Lizzie.”

“A perfect set. How old are they?”

“Ian's twenty-three and he's in NYU Law. Lizzie's twenty-one and she just graduated from Dartmouth with a degree in English.”

“You don't look old enough to have children in grad school.”

Gabby blushed. “Thank you, but my birth certificate would beg to differ.”

“What type of law is your son thinking of going into?”

“He's been talking about environmental law and civil rights law a lot. I'm not sure which one he's leaning toward these days, but I know he's going to be an amazing lawyer.”

“I know it sounds like an oxymoron, but both fields could use more good attorneys.”

She laughed.

“What about your daughter?”

“She's traveling through Europe with her friends for the summer before she begins teaching ninth grade English in the city this fall while she goes to grad school for her certification.”

“Oh, that's great. The city can use as many teachers as it can get.”

“I think so, too. Her grandmother, on the other hand, is completely mortified at the idea of a Blanchard teaching in an inner city school.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, but my mother is from a different generation. She went to college to find an eligible husband. The degree was secondary.”

“Is that how it was for you?”

“No. I wanted to do something with my art history degree, and then I got married after college and the rest, as they say, is history.” She reflected for a moment. “That's enough about me. Do you have any children?”

“I have a fourteen-year-old son, Nigel Jr. He lives in Chicago with my ex.”

“Fourteen, I remember that age. How long have you been divorced?”

“His mother and I weren't married.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed when you said ex…”

“No harm done. We were going to get married, but it didn't work out.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't be. She married a nice guy and everyone gets along.”

“You're a regular Bruce, Demi and Ashton.” She grinned.

“I wouldn't go that far.” He laughed. “That's a little strange.”

“I agree.”

He looked down at his watch. “I didn't realize the time. I have an appointment in about an hour.”

“Oh, don't let me keep you.”

“You're not. I really enjoyed it.”

“Me, too.”

They got up and began walking.

“How did you get here? Can I hail a cab for you?”

“Thank you, that would be great. You have an appointment, so would you like to share a cab?”

“No, that's okay. My appointment isn't too far from here. I can walk.”

“Oh, all right.”

They walked toward the entrance to the park.

“Before you go I'd like to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“Would it be inappropriate for me to ask you to dinner?”

“No. Why?”

“I am showing at your gallery. Some people might think it's a conflict of interest.”

“It wouldn't be. I added you to the exhibit based on your artwork before we had this pleasant little afternoon.”

“Good. Then would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?”

“I'd love to.”

“Great. Shall we meet, or would it be okay to pick you up?”

Gabby was tickled. “You can pick me up.” She rifled through her bag to get her notebook to write down her address. “Here you go.” She handed him the paper.

“Thanks.” He studied it for a moment. “If you could write down your telephone number, too, that would be great. In case I run late with traffic or something.”

“Oh, sure, how silly of me.” She took the paper and jotted down both her numbers.

She handed him the paper again. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turned and flagged a cab down, then opened the door. “Here you go, Gabby.”

“Thank you. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. I'll be there around six if that's okay with you.”

“Yes, that's fine.” She got into the cab.

He leaned down. “So I'll see you.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” She waved as the cab pulled away. Contented, Gabby settled in for the ride home.

* * *

Despite the 86-degree reading on the thermometer, Alicia and Lauren relaxed on the chaise lounges with a glass of lemonade, while Kurt tried to get some color a little closer to the pool.

“Are you sure you have enough sunblock on?” Alicia called.

“I'm fine, Mom,” Kurt said, exasperated.

“Leave him alone, Alicia. He's a grown man.”

“I know. But do you remember how quickly his father burned? Kurt's got skin just like him.”

“Kurt was the only black person I've ever seen turn into a lobster in under ten minutes.”

“Exactly.”

“For God's sake, Alicia, you gave him SPF 50 and that's essentially long sleeves in a tube. I think he's good.”

Just then a Frisbee flew into the yard, followed by a topless blonde.

“Sorry.” She waved and ran back to Nathaniel's yard.

Alicia sat up and felt her forehead. “I don't think I have heatstroke. That was a topless woman that just ran in my yard, right?”

“Yes. I'm surprised they allow such things in uptight Scarsdale. But that can only mean one thing, naughty Nate's back in town,” she sang.

“Don't remind me.” Alicia groaned. “Mr. Becker is up to his usual shenanigans.”

“Listen to you with all this Mr. Becker stuff.”

“That's his name.”

“His name is Nathaniel Becker, and most of us call him Nate.”

“So what? He calls me Ms. Archer.”

Lauren shook her head. “You don't see it, do you?”

“What don't I see?”

“The sexual tension between you two. You can practically cut it with a knife.”

Alicia burst out laughing. “That is completely ridiculous. We can't stand each other.”

“There's a thin line between love and hate, Ms. Archer.”

“Put a sock in it, Lauren,” Alicia warned.

Lauren continued undaunted. “What's wrong with Nate? He's successful, educated and God knows he's not hard to look at, in case you haven't noticed.”

“In case you haven't noticed, I seem to be living next to the Westchester version of the Playboy mansion. He's got women coming in and out of there at all times of the night and day. It's a wonder he has the time or energy to practice medicine.”

Just then a volleyball bounced into the yard and two topless women came over to retrieve it. They waved at Kurt. He waved back and turned to Alicia. “Mom, I didn't know you had a semi-nudist colony next door,” he joked.

“It would appear so.” She huffed and turned to Lauren. “I rest my case.”

Ten minutes later the volleyball rolled over again and this time Nathaniel was behind it.

Alicia leaped up. “Mr. Becker!” she called as she walked toward him.

He smiled. “Good afternoon, Ms. Archer. It's a lovely day, isn't it?”

“It was. Are you holding the games for the topless Olympics?”

“We're just having a little outdoor fun. Care to join us?”

“No, thank you. Where are their tops?”

“In the house, I guess.”

“I'd appreciate if they'd put them on if they're going to come into my yard. I prefer not to see so much silicone after lunch. It spoils my digestion.”

“What makes you think they're not the real thing?”

“Come now, Mr. Becker, you're a doctor.”

“I'm interested to hear your take on why you think the boobs aren't real.”

“I don't know, maybe gravity for one thing. With the way they're scampering about, real boobs would have at the very least bruised their chins, put an eye out or caused them some other kind of discomfort.”

Nathaniel chuckled. “I guess I can't argue the point.”

“Thank you.”

He looked over and saw Kurt. “Are you sure it's a problem? I'm positive your son didn't mind.” He walked away from her. “Excuse me, I'm going to say hello.”

“You leave my son out of this.” She was on his heels.

“Hey, Kurt.”

Kurt sat up. “Hey, Nate.” They shook hands.

“How are you?”

“Good. I'm starting grad school in the fall.”

“Cool.” He nodded. “Your mother tells me you're bothered by my guests coming over here.”

“They don't bother me.”

“Kurt!”

“I've seen topless women before, Mom. It's no big deal.”

“What!”

“That's not an image you want to leave your mother with, Kurt,” Lauren said loudly.

“Hey, Lauren.” Nathaniel waved.

“Hey, Nate.” She leaned back in the chair.

“Kurt, while I appreciate your open-mindedness, I will try to keep the scampering to a minimum.”

“Thank you,” Alicia said.

Nathaniel looked over at the sliding doors and saw Harrison carrying a tray. “Here comes Harry with some more lemonade for you and your guests, Ms. Archer. Why don't you have a glass and cool off?”

She made a face.

“Enjoy the day, everyone.” He turned and walked back to his bevy of still-topless beauties.

Alicia shook her head in disgust. “God help me! I'm living next to a booby wonderland.” She sat back down in her chair while Harrison refilled her glass. “Thanks, Harrison.” She took a long sip. “Not a word, Lauren!” she warned.

“What did I say? I didn't say a thing.”

“No, but I can hear you thinking.”

“Well, as long as I'm going to get in trouble for thinking it, I might as well say it. He really gets under your skin.”

“You see what I have to deal with. The man has no couth.”

Kurt walked over to get some lemonade. “Nate's a fun guy.”

“In a
Penthouse
kind of way,” Alicia scoffed.

“It's obvious he likes you, Alicia. Why else would he take the time to bother you?”

“You should see the way he looks at her when she turns her back,” Harrison interjected.

“I've seen it, too, Harrison,” Lauren agreed.

“What kind of conversation is this to have in front of my child?”

“I'm not a kid, Mom. Besides, I think he likes you, too.”

“Don't be silly. Nathaniel Becker has his hands full with nubile twenty-something women keeping him busy.”

“So you've thought about it,” Lauren teased.

“I've done no such thing.”

“Maybe he's just passing time with these young things until you come around,” Harrison said.

“Are all of you suffering from heatstroke?”

Lauren's cell phone rang.

“I think you like him, Alicia.”

“I think your cell phone is ringing, Lauren.”

She jumped and then rifled through her bag for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi.” It was Randy's voice.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

Alicia looked at her watch. “Not bad for boy time.”

Lauren started to walk away. “Can you hold for a second?”

“Sure” he answered.

“I'm going to take this in your office.”

“Be my guest.”

“By the way, you're not off the hook. I'll be back.” Lauren walked away.

“Take your time,” she called after her.

Kurt sat in the chair next to her. “There is something between you and Nate.”

“The sparks always fly when they're around each other,” Harrison said casually.

“Stop encouraging him. There is nothing between Nathaniel Becker and me but a shared property line.”

“If you say so, Mom.”

“I do.” She turned to Harrison. “Harrison, can you bring those lemon drop cookies out for me, please.”

Kurt's eyes lit up. Lemon drop cookies were his favorite. “You made the lemon drop cookies?”

“Yes.”

He jumped up. “I'll get them.”

“They're in the white cookie jar.”

“All right.” He ran into the house.

Harrison clapped. “You are something else, Alicia. You got him off the subject and onto lemon cookies.”

“What can I say? I'm his mother and no matter how old he is, he still loves it when Mommy makes cookies.” She sipped her lemonade.

* * *

Seated comfortably at Alicia's desk, Lauren nearly bubbled over with enthusiasm. “So how are you, Randy?” She could hear the bustling kitchen in the background.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. How's your head?”

“Better, thank you. Breakfast helped a lot.”

“Good. I hope something else helped, too,” he said suggestively.

She felt a little hot. “It did.”

“That's nice to hear.” He paused. “I know this is a little backwards, considering, but I wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“Tonight?” Her ears perked up. “What time?”

“Is eight o'clock okay?”