“Really?” I ask, my heart sinking a little. How am I going to tell her I’m not able to make it on Saturday?
“Oh, yes, it was delightful. There were even some clumps of hair on the kitchen floor by the time we got them separated. And I ended up with a black eye out of it, so that’s lovely.”
“That’s terrible. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Honestly, the only thought that’s kept me going is that I’ll have you with me at the party. Thanks for that, by the way. You’re my knight in a shining space suit.”
I rub the bridge of my nose as the pressure in my head builds. Glancing at my watch, I see I should be on my way to Serafina’s already. I have to just say it. “So, Gwen, there is something I need to tell you …”
I’m currently in a cab heading to Serafina’s place in SoHo. I’ve already texted her that I’m running seven minutes late (which is actually nineteen minutes late in my books, but since she doesn’t share the same sense of time as me, I’m calling it seven). My conversation with Gwen went so much better than I thought it would. She took the news like an absolute champ. She actually said she wasn’t feeling the whole romantic vibe with me either, but that she’d love to add me to her friend group, which is a massive relief. She even admitted she’d been wondering if Serafina and I had something going on between us based on all the bantering we do.
I decide that maybe I’ll have Serafina come with me to The Salty Nuts one evening to meet Gwen (and maybe see if we can bring a fourth for my new buddy). The only fly in the ointment is that I’m still going with Gwen to the engagement party, but as a friend only. Well, she may let her busybody aunt think we’re an item, but other than that, no strings attached. Except, of course, finding a way to tell Serafina, which I am not looking forward to.
When we pull up in front of her building, I step out and take a good look at it. It’s a ten-story modern structure with huge windows and I’m sure a price tag to match. She really must make twelve times as much as me to afford this place.
Serafina buzzes me up and I step into a freight elevator, then I’m whisked upstairs to the third floor. She’s standing in the doorway when the elevator door opens. “Hey, handsome,” she says with a grin that any man would be honored to be on the receiving end of.
“Hey yourself,” I tell her. See? I can do the flirting. I hand her the bottle of Sancerre I brought from home, and we give each other an I’ve-missed-you-so-much-even-though-it’s-only-been-a-few-hours kiss before she pulls me into her apartment and slams the door with her foot. We stay right in the entry and make out like I imagine a couple would after one of them has spent several months in space.
“Wow, that was quite the hello,” I tell her. “I hope you don’t greet all your dinner guests that way.”
“Only the hot ones,” she says, holding her free hand on my chest. “Supper will be here any minute.”
“Fondue, I hope,” I tell her with a mock-hopeful expression.
She laughs, then pulls a face. “Never again.” Holding up the bottle of wine, she asks, “Should we crack open this baby while we wait?”
“Sounds good.” I get my first real look at her apartment — it’s a veritable colorfest in here, filled with paintings and bean bag chairs and the most comfy-looking sofa I’ve ever seen. Everywhere I look is bright and happy, just like Serafina.
“What do you think?” she asks as she glances around her own home. “Is it too much for you?”
“I love it. It reminds me of you,” I say before I think through my words. My cheeks heat up and I feel a slight panic. Abort! Abort! It’s too early for this. You’re going to freak her out. “I mean, it’s bright and happy, like you … which is … very welcoming.”
Serafina laughs while she pulls the cork out of the bottle. “Relax. I don’t think you just said you love me.”
Letting out a breath, I tell her, “Thank God, because I was nervous I may have scared you off there.”
She pours us each a glass, then walks over to me and hands me one. “You can’t scare me. I’m a Libra. We’re very resilient creatures.”
I chuckle. “I’m starting to see that.”
“Really?” she asks, raising her eyebrow excitedly.
“Really,” I tell her, pulling her to me and brushing my lips along her neck. “If you’re a typical Libra woman, then I’m totally sold on that star sign.” Then I put my finger to my mouth in an exaggerated Dr. Evil manner, and add, “Although, I have seen you let two tiny octogenarians boss you around.”
“That doesn’t count. They’re my grandparents,” she tells me, putting her arms around my neck and pulling me toward her. “I have to let them boss me around. But I’m afraid you won’t have those same privileges.”
“I’d never dream of telling you what to do.” We kiss again, and I have a very good feeling tonight is going to be one of the best of my entire life.
“Glad we got that straight,” she says. We’re just about to do some more delicious smooching when the buzzer goes off. “Dinner’s here.”
Serafina starts for the door, but I pull her back and give her one more quick kiss. “I’m actually more excited about dessert.”
“Oh, there’s going to be some dessert. Believe me.”
Thirty-Three
Serafina
I’m not a kiss and tell kind of girl, but suffice it to say, if I were, I could write a really steamy romance novel based on Ben’s and my recent activities. He stayed over at my house and we barely slept. In fact, he called in sick to work, claiming that he must have caught a bug on the plane. The entire next day was spent napping and relishing in the new sensations we’ve unlocked in each other. While I would never say this to Ben, I’m starting to believe in Charley’s insta-love voodoo. Not that we just met, but it has been less than a month and most of that time has been spent sparring.
When Ben got up and went to work this morning, I promised to go over to his place tonight to meet Mr. Spock. I’ve been warned there are about seven hundred behaviors his tabby will perceive as an act of war, so I’m a little nervous. Which is why I plan on having a little baggie of lunch meat in my pocket. I need this cat to love me.
Charley and I spend the day poring over the feedback that our test-daters are emailing to us about our app. Most of them are glowingly positive. Meanwhile, I get another email from a potential suitor. Bob is a proctologist who felt it necessary to tell me that the human rectum is the most under-appreciated part of the human body. While this may be true, it’s also not the most romantic lead-in. I messaged him back that I’m a nostril girl, so I don’t think it’ll work out.
Lying prone on the floor in front of one of the eight-foot windows in my apartment, I bemoan, “How can everyone else seem to love our dating app, but I’ve attracted every weirdo in the metro area?”
Charley laughs, “Maybe it’s you and not the app.” She clicks away on her computer before saying, “It says here that you are open-minded. That could be part of the problem.”