JESSIE
I spent all day Monday shopping, hitting twelve stores, and finally recklessly splurging on a sexy, super-tight, purple velvet evening gown. It’s sleeveless. It has a slit that goes so far up the leg that I needed an above-the-knee wax. It’s so tight I needed to buy a bustier just to cinch my waist enough to fit into it. It’s made for a Bond Girl. It’s so not me.
I fucking love it.
I had texted Giovanni my address and am not surprised when he arrives at my door promptly at five. I open the door to a dream. He looks fantastic. Dark tuxedo, black tie, perfectly polished shoes—you know the drill.
He walks in, clearly troubled, and not noticing me in the least.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says as he turns around. Then his jaw drops. “Wow. You look stunning.”
Suddenly, I’m nauseous. Oh, my God, he’s hot. I forgot how hot he is. What am I doing? I can’t breathe. “So do you,” I manage to stammer out without throwing up on him.
He stares at me for a minute, and all I can think about is straddling him. “So what happened?” I ask.
“I got the strangest text from Natasha, and I think she might be breaking up with me.”
Inside, I’m bursting with hope: Really? Yaaaayyyyy!!!! Now nothing will be my fault. While the outside of me assures Giovanni, “Noooo, that’s impossible. She would never do that.”
“She left me these weird messages in the middle of the night last night, when I was asleep. I have played them at least five times each, and for the life of me, I don’t know what she meant.” He puts out his hand. “Look at me. I’m shaking a little.”
I take his hand, which feels warm and soft, albeit a little jittery. I love these hands. I want these hands all over my …
“You’re shaking too,” Giovanni says, confused.
“Me? Oh, no. That’s just … ummm … I haven’t eaten today because I … wanted to fit into this dress. I figured I’d eat at the event.”
“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. We should go. Get some food into you.”
“You know what? I actually have some cheese and crackers here. And wine. And you look like you could use a glass of wine. So why don’t I take your jacket…” I say, slowly removing his tuxedo jacket, careful to brush my hands against his perfect chest, then up over his shoulders, then down his exquisite arms. “And we’ll hang out for a bit, and you can play me the messages.”
Our lips are inches from each other. He stares at me, clearly knowing my game. I am hitting on him, and even the densest of men couldn’t miss it.
Giovanni seems to snap out of the brief trance I put him in. “Okay. That’s not a bad idea. What can I help with?”
Aaannnddd … maybe he’s not perfect. Maybe he actually is the densest man on the planet.
“Nothing,” I tell him, trying to hide my disappointment as I make my way into my kitchen. “I have pretty much everything you sell. What wine would you like?”
“Let’s do the Super Tuscan.” He pulls out his phone. “Can I play you her messages?”
“Sure,” I say, getting out two glasses and a corkscrew.
As I open and pour the wine, I hear Nat sounding … well, high, actually.
“Hey, it’s me,” Nat slurs. “This Vicodin has made me really woozy. That’s why I don’t like to take it. Where are my consonants? Can you understand me? I feel like my s’s sound weird. Sssssssss … yeah, okay, that’s good. Anyway I just woke up and I’ve been thinking about you and … I don’t know. So many women at the bar talk about how cute you are. Jessie thinks you’re cute. I think you’re cute too. You should be with someone like Jessie, though.”
Wait, what’s that? I want to ask him to hit Repeat.
“She has her shit together,” Nat prattles on. “I don’t have my shit together. I mean, I am a total mess. You don’t see me picking out rings and houses. She even has a 401(k) that she SET UP HERSELF!” Then Nat’s yelling voice comes back down to a normal range. “I have a shoe box of receipts I give to her every year at tax time called ‘receipts of all sorts.’ I think I’m better in bed, though. Well, I guess you don’t know that yet.”
Wait—she hasn’t slept with him? I should not be immediately gleeful. But, boy, “gleeful” is a good word. I finish pouring the wine and turn to my refrigerator to get cheese.
Nat continues. “But trust me, I am. Although not on Vicodin … I think I told you, this stuff’s weird, but Chris made me take it, and now I’m awake and I have to tell you … You know if you told someone your deepest darkest secret, or maybe just like this terrible thing you did, you’re sure they’d go away. Well, I guess the good guys, they figure it out anyway, even though you think you’re being clever, but you’re not. And then they stay. Which is weird! Although I don’t know why they stay, I wouldn’t stay. ’Cuz you could do so much better than me. I mean, you know how people say it’s not you, it’s me. But it really is me. You deserve so much better than me.”
His machine cuts her off. He looks over to me. “So you’ve known her a lot longer than me. Did she just break up with me?”
“Well…” I hedge. I unwrap the Brie, careful to avoid eye contact. “You should probably ask her.”
He nods. “Okay. You’re right.” As I put the cheese on a plate and pull out some water crackers, he asks, “Can I play her other message?”
“Sure.”
He hits Play, and we’re back to Nat. “Seriously, if someone I wanted wanted someone else, why would I stay? Wish is what I’m thinking.”
I think she meant “which” there.
“Oh, but you’re so cute, though. And NICE. So nice. Men who look like you don’t have to be so nice. I mean, granted I think I’m smarter, but you’re so much nicer. Oh, it’s late. I need to go back to bed. Alone. And I think I need crackers. Or In-N-Out. So, you know, love, peace, and all that. We’re in agreement, right? I wouldn’t want to text. That would be rude.”
And she hangs up.
Giovanni puts out his hands. “Well?”
“Well,” I begin cautiously, handing him his glass of wine, then taking my glass and the plate of cheese and crackers out to my living room. “I’ll admit, if I were to guess, it sounds like maybe it’s a breakup.”
“You think?” Giovanni asks, taking both of our wineglasses and following me to my couch. We sit down.
I take a nervous glug of wine. “I can’t tell you for sure. But I’ve know Nat a really long time and … if it’s not a breakup, it’s a hint that one is coming.”
Giovanni nods. Also takes a rather large swallow of his wine. “Can I confess something to you?”
“You’re horribly uncomfortable in that tie. You feel like you’re choking.”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Oh, feel free to loosen it, then. We don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours.”
He does the ever so slightest double take, then says, “Thank you.” He loosens his tie and undoes his top button.
I wonder if Nat’s Chris is right, the trick to getting a man to strip really is just asking.
“This is a horrible thing to say,” Giovanni tells me, “but if she were breaking up with me, I think it would actually be a relief.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay.”
“I mean Nat is great. I adore her. She’s beautiful and smart and funny and well read and an amazing—”
“Okay!” I interrupt loudly. “Nat’s perfect. Got it.”
“She is. She’s awesome. But I just don’t see myself ever taking her to Santa Barbara for dinner.”
“Really?” I ask, my voice getting a little too breathy and high.
“Really,” he confirms. Giovanni moves his face close to me. “I probably shouldn’t … kiss anyone before I know, for sure, that she’s broken up with me, though.”
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. “Probably not,” I agree.
“Are you getting warm?” he asks.
“Ummm. A little.”
“Feel free to loosen this,” he says, putting his arm behind me and slowly unzipping the back of my dress. “Because we don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours.”
He zips down to the small of my back, and the top of my dress falls to reveal my dark purple bustier. Giovanni begins slowly licking my neck.
“I’m pretty sure you’re just making things even hotter in here,” I tell him.
And that’s all I say for quite a while.
* * *
Many hours later, we are both naked in my bed, sitting with the plate of Brie between us, finally eating. I’m starving. But I cannot remember the last time I felt so satiated and happy. “We need more crackers,” I tell Giovanni.
“Yeah, and maybe some Thai food,” he suggests.
“Oohhh, some shrimp fried rice and some pad Thai sounds perfect. Let me go get the delivery menu.”
Giovanni follows me to the kitchen, grabbing me twice to kiss me before we make it to my menu drawer. I open the drawer to grab menus while he grabs his cell phone to order.
“Okay, the better place takes forty-five minutes to an hour to deliver. The faster place…”
I look up to see Giovanni staring at his phone, looking worried.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nat left me a message around seven forty-five. Obviously, we were in there”—he motions with his head toward my bedroom—“so I didn’t hear it.”
I take a deep breath, then ask, “Okay, do you want to play it?”
He presses Play, then puts his phone on speaker. “Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry for the rambling message last night, I was totally whacked out on painkillers, and I must not have made much sense. Listen, I miss you, and I really want to talk to you. Are you free for lunch tomorrow? I know you and Jessie have that thing tonight, and you’re probably exhausted from your wine and food weekend, but just, you know, whenever works for you is cool.”
She pauses, and I hope maybe the last sentence will be something straightforward like, “Sorry we broke up” or “You know I was serious about how you should date Jessie.”
Instead, she says, “I just want you to know, I adore you. You’re amazing. Truly.” Another pause. “Okay, so I’m gonna go. Call me whenever. Lots of love. Bye.”
The message ends. Giovanni looks at me, his face saying, What do you think?
“Ffffuuuucccckkkkkk,” I say, falling halfway down. “OhmyGod! OhmyGod! OhmyGod!”
“Okay, calm down.”
“I just slept with my best friend’s boyfriend.”
“Now we don’t know that,” Giovanni says calmly.
“What?”
“I meant the boyfriend part. Remember how we thought she broke up with me?”
“Of course I thought that! I wanted to have sex with you!” I cover my face with my hands and race toward my living room. “This is bad. She’s going to kill me. No. Worse. She’s never going to talk to me again.”
Giovanni follows me to the living room. “Okay, this is not as bad as it seems.”
“It’s worse! I slept with you. Twice! She hasn’t even slept with you once. And to think I judged her for dating a married man … I’m an awful person.”
“Nat is sleeping with a married man?” Giovanni asks.
“No. She used to. And now I’m a fink besides. Perfect.”
“Calm down,” he says, pulling my naked body to his. He rubs my back and says, “Sssshhhh.”
And I melt again. Why does he feel this good?
“Okay,” Giovanni says soothingly. “Let’s order some food. I’ll text her that I’m going to bed early. Then tomorrow, together, we’ll tell her what happened.”
I start to speak, but he says, “It’s all going to work out. Trust me. She’s going to be fine. She’s just going to be mad for a little while, and she has the right to be. But then it’s all going to be okay.”
“You’re sure?” I ask/whine.
“I’m positive,” Giovanni reassures me. “I haven’t known Nat long, but I know she has a good heart and would only wish us well. She won’t hold a grudge.”
He hugs me again, and I mutter, “You don’t know her at all. That woman’s still mad at Shelley Long for leaving Cheers.”