What Love Looks Like (6 page)
Read What Love Looks Like Online
Authors: Lara Mondoux
We had a small private space in the rear of the spa, where fragrant
candles and the smell of massage oil permeated the interior. The rectangular
space was earthy, clean, and Zen-like. It contained six pedicure chairs, one
massage table, and a lounge area where hors d’oeuvres were displayed. I added
to the display a bottle of East Coast Prime’s private label champagne, along
with some sushi I’d drunkenly picked up from the North Market on my walk home
from Union the day before.
Due to time restrictions we were each allowed choose one spa
service. I opted for a pedicure and took a seat between Serena and Erica. As we
waited for our technicians to come over, we caught up on each other’s lives. I
told them how I still couldn’t stand work or my boss, but that I had no choice
but to stick it out because of the dreary economy. Interestingly, neither of
them seemed to relate to my sentiments, nor to really anything negative at all.
They had no complaints to speak of. Instead they talked about weddings and
babies and asked if I was seeing anyone new.
It felt almost ridiculous telling anyone about Jay, because the
relationship was scarcely more than a spot on the radar of my life. But
nonetheless I brought him up, since he was pretty much the only thing on my
mind that got me even remotely keyed up.
“You’re lighting up talking about him,” Serena said excitedly. “What
does he look like?”
“He’s
gorgeous.
Way out of
my league.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Erica said. “You look amazing, Elle. I’ve
never seen you look better.”
“You’re the one who’s out of her mind.” I hadn’t even worn eye
makeup that day. And my eyes were such a pale shade of blue that I looked
comatose when I didn’t apply mascara.
“Maybe he’s the one,” Serena said. “Long distance, instant
connection, gorgeous stranger . . . sounds like something straight out of a
movie. If the sex is good, he’s a shoo-in.”
“Don’t get carried away.” I said. “It’s really new, and we know so
little about each other.”
“Well, you better get to know him!” Erica said. “If you really like
a guy, you need to be all over it. Good guys who are also good-looking are few
and far between. Not everyone out there can find a fiancé like mine.” She
winked. She did have a great fiancé, the kind I wanted someday. Mark was funny,
sweet, owned his own business, and was easy to talk to, even for a shy person
like me. “I’m serious, Elle, you’re pushing thirty. You don’t want to be single
at thirty-five, do you?”
My mind went instantly to Penny, and I shuddered. “Well, no . . .,”
I was slightly offended and rudely awakened at the same time. “He’s coming back
to Columbus in a couple of weeks, so I’ll work on it.”
I wasn’t stressed about my fling with Jay until exactly that moment.
Suddenly, I felt pressured to make it work no matter what. What if Jay was the first
and last guy of his caliber who would ever want me? It was already a total
fluke that he was even interested at all. Erica was right, I was on the verge
of entering a new age bracket, and who knew what sort of vibe thirty-something
single women exuded to men? I could be giving off a vibe of desperation without
even knowing it! Yikes. It felt like being the last kid picked for a team in
gym class, something I was painfully familiar with.
I swore to myself that things would be different with Jay. He would
be the one—the one I’d work to get and work to keep. Worst-case scenario,
I could move to New York. And that wouldn’t even be so bad. I could get used to
a life in the big city. Sure, I’d miss my family, but New York was vibrant. I
felt tense as I was forcefully scrubbed with pumice by a nail technician, and
each grind of the stone to the sole of my foot was like a painful reminder that
landing Jay would be no easy feat. I wondered why he hadn’t texted me yet (it
was nearly one in the afternoon). I started to panic, so I shot him a message
that simply read,
Hi there.
Hey babe,
he quickly
responded.
I breathed a sigh of relief. His texts were like crack to me. When
they waned I felt low, and when they came through I was high; I felt
invincible. Maybe I really could make something of my new fling after all. Jay
had everything going for him, and according to my friends, so did I. I just had
to convince myself that they were right.
5
Following
Erica’s birthday, I was resolute in the decision to make Jay Conrad mine. Erica
and the other girls were right: I had to I seal the deal during Jay’s impending
visit. Ending up with him would be the ultimate vindication. The mean girls
from high school had long since settled down with their high school
sweethearts, the former jocks who now had protruding abdomens and diminishing
hairlines, but not me. I’d spent the past decade growing as an individual and
finding the crème de la crème of men. With Jay by my side, I could do anything
I wanted and be the person I always wanted to be.
Always the
pessimist, Jenna reminded me that I should be wary. She believed it was likely
that Jay was so good looking that he was inevitably a player. And even Jay
himself had even mentioned in a text message to having had only negligible
relationship experience. But I argued that for the right girl he would change.
And I was the right girl. I had to be. Since meeting Jay, I'd felt transformed.
I had a shot at happiness with someone who no doubt had women falling at his
feet.
Two weeks felt
like two long, agonizing years as I waited for Jay to arrive back in Columbus
for our first official date. He’d landed just before noon for his meeting on a
Thursday, and we were going to dinner later that evening. I’d taken the
following Friday off, knowing that I’d be too hungover to work. I always
required a drink to loosen up on a date, and for a date with Jay, I’d probably
need three or four. I planned to drink in proportion to his hotness, just to be
on the safe side.
Being at work
that day was torturous. Knowing that Jay was in Columbus while I was indentured
to a time clock was excruciating. It took every ounce of my willpower to not
get up and walk out of my office for good. The day dragged on, teasing me as if
it were fully aware of the pot of gold waiting for me at the end of it. On top
of the day crawling by, I had to stop at the downtown restaurant on the way
home to greet a few customers. There, I got stuck talking to Ryan about an
upcoming bridal shower.
“We can’t set up
the tables that way in the Ambassador Room, Elle. It just won’t work for
thirty-five people,” he said, showing me the floor plan that I’d created.
“Can we talk
about this next week?”
“Why, do you
have somewhere better to be?”
“She sure does!”
Jenna said, perkier than normal. “She’s got a
super
hot date tonight!”
“Oh really?”
Ryan shifted his stare from Jenna to me. The three of us were squished into the
tiny manager’s office.
“Yes, really,” I
said, blushing.
“Well,” Ryan
said, taking a step backward, “please don’t let me keep you from him.” I
thought I detected a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“Have fun, send
pics!” Jenna said.
“Yeah, right.” I
quickly escaped before anyone else could ask me any questions.
As I was
leaving, I heard Ryan whisper to Jenna, “She’s got a date?”
Jenna replied,
“Yeah, a guy she’s seeing from New York.” More whispers followed, but by then
they were beyond my range of hearing.
The dog sitter
had Luna until later in the evening, so I had a full two hours to primp myself
into perfection for Jay. After showering and blowing out my hair, I lounged
around in a silky bathrobe, which I always did before a date to feel feminine.
I was on edge but excited at the same time. I played some soft music to soothe
my nerves and sipped on half a glass of white wine to loosen up. I couldn’t
believe how anxious I was. It felt that so much was riding on how Jay felt
about me that night.
The wine and the
music soothed my nerves, so I selected my attire. I chose a Banana Republic
shift dress for its exquisite fit. It was cobalt blue, long-sleeved, and very
short—hitting my leg well above the knee. I went barelegged, donning a
pair of nude Via Spiga platform pumps that I’d purchased from Nordstrom for
Jay’s viewing pleasure. Determined to look better than he’d remembered, I’d
gone spray tanning the day before and looked like a giant brunette latte,
precisely as I’d intended.
I accessorized,
doused myself in perfume, and did a triple take in the full-length mirror. I
left my apartment sufficiently wound up and feeling good about myself. As a
rule, I used driving time to psych myself up before I went on any date. But
Jay’s hotel was less than five minutes from my apartment, so I didn’t have much
time. To make up for it, I played some Kanye, which always made me feel like a
badass, and was on my way.
I sent a text
telling Jay that I’d be there in five, and instructing him to come down and
look for a white Volvo. I did my best to drive slowly, trying to quell my
overzealousness enough to avoid a speeding ticket. When I arrived at the Hyatt,
I saw the revolving door rotate and several people dressed up for the night
exited the lobby onto the street and hopped into taxis. No sign of Jay. I did a
quick circle around the block and pulled through again. He finally emerged.
He looked
exactly how I remembered, only better. He was unaware that I was watching, but
the sight of him was just what the doctor ordered. He was the kind of guy who
stopped traffic and turned heads everywhere. Even other men seemed aware of his
charisma. I noticed him spot my car and walk toward me. My heart rate
increased. My palms were clammy, my body was overheated, and my cheeks were flushed.
There was no turning back. Jay opened the car door, smiling, and I instantly
detected his signature aroma of cologne and cigarettes.
“Hey, hot stuff.”
he said. “We meet again.” Calm, cool, and collected; he was everything I wasn’t
but everything I knew he would be.
“Hey. Nice to
see you.” I said.
He
hugged me awkwardly in the front seat of my car. My small coupe and fitted
white coat restricted us from really locking into a full-fledged embrace. He
wore a pair of slender dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black fitted sport
coat with a white pocket square. The whole thing was
very Tom Ford, my sartorial weakness when it came to men's
fashion. His shoes looked new, and his tan was still visible.
“How was your
flight?” I said, finally able to muster speech.
“A little bumpy,
but I’m here. I’m glad to be back. I’m starting to like Columbus.”
I couldn’t help
but smile, keeping my eyes on the road ahead of me. “I hope you like the
restaurant.”
“If
you picked it, I’m sure it’ll be great,” he replied. His confidence was
unnerving, and I imagined that it came from a lifetime of good looks and,
consequently, special treatment from everyone he encountered; it was a
confidence that I did not possess.
We made small
talk as I drove us fifteen minutes south of downtown to Grandview Heights. I
couldn’t tell if Jay was uneasy at all, but I was, and I was pretty sure it was
obvious. Any time I sensed an awkward silence looming, I’d immediately fill it
with excessive small talk, exactly the way I did when we first met. I couldn’t
handle awkward silences, especially
with
him. I wanted to have all the earmarks of someone who was fascinating, vital,
and full of passion.
The restaurant I
chose was Third & Hollywood, aptly named for its location on the corner of
3rd Street and Hollywood Avenue. It was a contemporary American bistro with
shadowy lighting, a lively bar, exposed brick, and an open
kitchen—exactly the kind of atmosphere in which great first dates were
made. I'd spent hours the week before selecting just the right venue, one that
would deliver the perfect casual but sexy ambiance. It was slightly hip with
just a touch of romance. My choice said, “I’m a cool girl and I like you, but
I’m not obsessed with you—I can take you or leave you.” As if I’d ever
leave him.
I finally
stopped rambling by the time we entered the restaurant. The noisy crowd at the
dimly lit bar filled our ears instead of intermittent silence. The hostess, who
eyed Jay up and down, gave us a forty-minute wait for a table and instructed
him that she’d “do
anything
she
possibly could to get us in sooner.” Earlier in the day I hemmed and hawed over
calling ahead to reserve a table, but ultimately opted against a formal
reservation. I wanted to appear blasé and to have a go-with-the-flow air about
me. With a guy like Jay I wouldn’t score a second date if I came off as too
regimented too early on. Even though I didn’t grow up with men falling at my
feet, I knew what made them linger and what made them run. While waiting, we
took the last two seats at the end of the bar. Jay ordered a Jack Daniels and
Coke, and I asked for a glass of Cabernet.
“You look hot,
by the way,” he said, not appearing apprehensive in the least. But why would he
be? He undoubtedly went out on dates with different woman all the time, so
surely he was used to the dynamic of it all.