Authors: Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
Club Fantasy (5 page)
Jenna felt perfectly silly. Here he was thanking her for her skill and she was acting like a ninny. “Sorry. I guess I'm a little gun-shy. Sure, I'd love to have dinner with you.”
He asked whether she'd ever had real authentic Indian food and she admitted that she hadn't, but that she'd love to try. An hour later they were sitting across from each other at a quiet restaurant near his office, sipping red wine.
“Tell me a little about yourself,” Toby suggested, moving the small lamp to the side of the table where it was out of the way.
By the time the appetizers arrived, she'd given him a capsule version of her days at SUNY Albany and her experiences with AAJ. She'd even told him a very brief version of her relationship with Glen. “Tell me what everything is,” she said, pointing to the plate of assorted finger food, “and warn me what's hot.”
“Are you afraid of hot things?” he asked smoothly, and Jenna wondered whether he had meant the double-entendre.
Deciding to ignore it as her imagination, she answered, “Not at all. I just like to be warned.”
Phew,
she thought. That answer could have the same kind of double meaning. She was about to correct any misinterpretation when she reconsidered.
Why not flirt a little? After all, Chloe's right. I do have to move on, so why not try my wings.
Phew,
she thought. That answer could have the same kind of double meaning. She was about to correct any misinterpretation when she reconsidered.
Why not flirt a little? After all, Chloe's right. I do have to move on, so why not try my wings.
His smile was warm and open. “Okay. I promise I'll warn you.” He held her gaze for just a moment longer than necessary, then pointed out the tandoori chicken, mango chutney, vegetable fritters, and a sausage-looking thing called kefta or something like that. “Oh, and this,” he said, indicating a crisp, flat bread covered with black specks, “might be spicy. Sometimes it is and sometimes it just tickles the tip of your tongue.”
There was nothing in what he said that was in the slightest bit suggestive, but his tone was warm and invitational. To change the subject, she said, “You've heard the condensed version of my life story, how about yours?”
“Fair enough.” Between bites, Toby told Jenna that he had graduated from NYU with a degree in business and had taken over his father's company when his dad had retired several years before. He had been married for four years, a marriage that had ended two years previously. They discovered that they shared a love of classical music, but while Jenna worked out three times a week, Toby was a couch potato and enjoyed watching vintage sitcoms. During a meal of chicken saag and a moderately spicy lamb curry with rice, two kinds of bread, and a delicious concoction of cucumber, yogurt, and mint, they discovered that they generally agreed politically but disagreed on the administration's handling of the trouble in the Middle East.
Toby ordered an orange-sherbert dessert that arrived in hollowed-out oranges, and as she ate, Jenna found herself telling him about Chloe and her recent arrival in New York City. When she mentioned Marcy and her need to get away from her twin sister, he asked, “Are you two identical?”
“Our genes say we are, but except for things that we can't change, like our height and eye color, we're really very different. She's a planner and I'm a by-the-seat-of-the-pants kind of girl. She's also more of a couch-potato type, like you.” She heard what she'd just said. “I didn't mean that as an insult, you understand, it's just different from the way I am. I like to stay in shape. I meanâ” She swallowed. “I'm sorry. None of that came out right.”
“I understood exactly what you meant. There's no need to apologize. I gather that your sister is still back home inâ?”
“Upstate. Seneca Falls to be exact and, yes, she's still there. She does document translation for the company I used to work for.”
“You're both translators. Maybe you're not as different as you might think.”
Jenna thought for a moment. “Yeah, maybe.”
As the waiter stopped at the table for the third time in five minutes, asking whether there would be anything else, Toby looked around, then at his watch. “I think they are giving us a hint.”
Jenna glanced around and saw that they were the only ones left in the restaurant. “I think we're overstaying our welcome.”
“It's after ten and I guess they're ready to close up.” He took out his credit card and handed it to the hovering waiter.
Jenna felt incredibly awkward. She and Glen had always gone Dutch, but she didn't know whether it would be an insult to mention it. Toby seemed to read her mind. “This is a business dinner to thank you for all your help with those Germans.”
“I was only doing my job,” she said.
“You did quite a bit more. You're bright and quick and you have a great people sense. You seemed to know exactly how to handle them, when to push a bit and when to back off. You were a real asset.”
Glowing with the unexpected praise, Jenna said, “Thanks.”
“I told the folks at the agency too.” He took her hand across the pink tablecloth and gazed into her eyes. “Now that we're done with the business end of this, let me say that I really enjoyed our dinner and I'd love to see you again. I really mean that.”
Jenna's hand warmed at his touch and she felt her pulse speed. “I'd like that,” she said, realizing that she meant it. “Let me give you my cell-phone number. I don't know whether I'll bother getting my own phone, so I'll use my cell for personal calls for now.” She gave him the number and he wrote it down on a piece of paper that he carefully put in his wallet. She wrote down his home number as well.
He signed the credit-card slip, and then the two of them walked out into the warm, late-spring night. “I live in a converted loft not far from here,” Toby said, “but I'd like to see you home.”
“Don't be silly,” she said. “I'll get a taxi.”
He stood with her while they flagged down a passing taxi. As she climbed in, Toby said, “Take care and I'll call you. Maybe we can get together one evening next week.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said, then gave the address of the brownstone to the taxi driver.
Since she had no assignment for the following day, Jenna wandered around New York City doing tourist things while Chloe was at work. She took the elevator to the top of the Empire State Building and stared in awe in all directions. She took a subway to Ground Zero and found her eyes filling at the sight of the massive empty space and the memories of that awful day, then pulled herself together and walked to Chinatown for lunch. In the afternoon she visited the United Nations Building, wondering whether she'd ever work there. They probably have all the translators they need, she thought, but it would be exciting to be part of international peace negotiations or something equally dramatic.
She arrived home, marveling at the fact that she already thought of it as home, at about five. She poured herself a glass of iced tea, stretched out in the back garden and called Marcy, knowing her sister would have just arrived home from work. “How did your second day at Paramount go?” Marcy asked.
“Just great. I felt really good about my part in the negotiations. I think I really greased a few of the wheels.”
“You always do, Jen,” Marcy said. “Tell me about the boss. You were less than candid when I spoke to you on Wednesday.”
Jenna could hear the unbridled curiosity in Marcy's voice. “I didn't mean to be evasive. He's nice.” She lowered her voice. “He took me to dinner.”
“What?”
Louder, she said, “He took me to dinner. We had real Indian food. You'd have loved it. We hadâ”
“I'm not interested in the dinner menu. Tell me about the man. Come on, give.”
“He's very nice. Midthirties, divorced, like that.” Somehow, for the first time, she found she didn't want to go into all the details of her evening. Although it was nothing more than a dinner between business acquaintances, it felt personal.
“Okay,” Marcy said, no trace of ire in her voice. “I understand if you want to keep this to yourself. One of the things we vowed was to build separate lives while you were gone.” She paused, then continued, “By the way, I saw Glen today. He said to tell you that he'd give you all the time you want but he's still hoping you'll come back. He's still acting as if you'll be back by Christmas.”
“He's so focused on that six-month thing. I wish he'd just let go.”
“I know, but he's really in love with you. I think you really threw him a curve when you turned him down. He seems a bit lost now.”
Jenna uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “You've always been fond of him. Take him to dinner and try to get him to understand. Take him to dinner just because.”
“I'm not horning in on your boyfriend, Jen.”
“He's not my boyfriend any more, and if you're interested, nothing could make me happier.”
“If you're trying to push a relationship, let me make this clear. Glen's a nice guy and I like him as a friend but I'm not interested in him. I'm not interested in anyone. I'm very happy just the way I am.”
They had had this discussion several times recently. Jenna worried about the way Marcy seemed content to sit around with little or no social life. Maybe her dates with Glen had been a bit predictable but at least she'd had dates. “I know that. I just wishâ” she stopped herself. It did no good to restate something that Marcy already knew. “I love you, Sis, very much.”
“I love you, too, Jen. Call me when you want and I'll do likewise.” The connection ended.
Chloe arrived home a few minutes later. “How about going somewhere for dinner?” Chloe believed the old joke. What she made for dinner was reservations.
“Sure. Where to?”
They settled on a noodle house a few blocks down on First Avenue. “I've got a date tomorrow night,” Chloe said, neatly eating her soup with spoon and chopsticks. “He's got a friend in from out of town. Any interest?”
“I don't think so,” Jenna said, juggling a spoon in one hand and awkwardly using chopsticks with the other, trying not to spill down her shirt. “Thanks anyway.”
“I wish you'd give it a bit of thought. I know the other guy and he's really nice. He's not Glen, of course, but he's intelligent, interesting and has a great sense of humor. It would be a great favor to me.”
“Why are you so anxious to set me up?” Jenna asked, deciding to tuck a napkin into the neck of her sky blue tee shirt.
“I worry that you'll spend a few months here, then scurry back to the safety of Seneca Falls, having experienced nothing of what there is to experience here.”
“And that's sex, right?”
“It's variety. It's men, good food, good conversation, flirtation, and that wonderful heat when two people begin to dance around the attraction they feel. And, yes, it's sex.”
Jenna squirmed under Chloe's scrutiny. “I've been sexual. Glen and I had some pretty wild times.”
“Yeah, you told me,” Chloe said, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
Slightly annoyed, Jenna said, “Stop putting me and Seneca Falls and Glen down like some collection of small-town people with nothing exciting ever happening. It's not like that.”
“I'm only quoting you, Jenna. You said you were here to experience things and this is how. Wouldn't you feel like a horse's ass if you went back and discovered, sometime down the line, what you'd been missing? There's more to life than Glen. You're chomping at the bit to do something but you're too chicken to reach for it.”
Jenna sat back and put her spoon and chopsticks down. She wanted to rail at Chloe, tell her that she should mind her own business, but she also was enough of a realist to accept that some of what her friend was saying was true. She had come to New York to grow, to reach out for things. “This would be just a date,” Jenna said finally. “No prior commitment or understanding. No tacit agreement for sex afterwards.”
Chloe made a face. “I wouldn't do that to you,” she said, putting her utensils down. “Not a chance. Harry is a thoroughly nice guy who I've been seeing for several months on and off. His friend's name is Brand and he's in town from Dallas. As a favor to Harry I arranged a friend for Brand when he was last in New York. The four of us had dinner, went to a movie, and that was that. No strings. No nothing. Stop being so suspicious. Yes, I want you to get out and experience life but whether or not you get laid is completely up to you.”
Jenna had to smile at Chloe's blunt language. “I'm sorry I got so carried away.” She realized that people at nearby tables were leaning closer to hear the rest of the conversation so she lowered her voice. “That's the second time this week. I guess I've got ulterior motives on the brain.”
“No problem,” Chloe said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “So, will you come with us? We're thinking of seeing that new Jack Nicholson film.”
Jenna let out a long breath. “Sure. Okay. That sounds fine.”
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