The Law of Attraction(13)

“Thanks, Jess! That image really puts me in the mood for romance,” I said, passing by a six foot tall guy with five o’clock shadow dressed in a purple polka-dotted miniskirt and sensible pumps.

“Hey, I'm just stating the obvious. I told you that it would be significant if he asked you out.”

“Tomorrow. He asked me out for tomorrow. Oh God,” I muttered, avoiding two pretzel vendors who seemed to be purposely ramming their carts into each other.

“Yeah, and you should remember, this is one sexually experienced guy. God only knows what he’s into. Maybe we should stop by that little shop. You know which one I mean.”

“Look, Dr. Drew, he himself said that he would be playing by the third date rule unless I said differently, so I don’t know about breaking out the sex toys yet.”

“You haven’t gotten laid in months. You might be the one to suggest it.”

“I'm pretty sure that I should wait until at least the second date before buying a remote control vibrator,” I noted, dropping a buck in the hat of a guy who was playing Feelings on the tuba.

“What, game night?” She rolled her eyes. “You should have held out for something better than that. I hope that this teaches you to listen to me from now on.”

“Here it comes, three, two…”

“I told you!”

“You already said that.”

“Okay. I told you asshat!”





CHAPTER FOUR


I had a hard time falling asleep that night and it wasn't just because of the tequila and beer induced bed spins. My brain felt like it might self-destruct every time I thought about the fact that my first attempt at flirting with Braden had been so wildly successful that I was now actually dating him. I was afraid that if I fell asleep I would wake up the next day and find out that it had all been a hallucination caused by some bad bean dip. So I laid there staring at my ceiling and not sleeping until about 3a.m. when my body finally told my brain to shut the fuck up if it didn't want me to look like an extra in Zombie Apocalypse tomorrow. Today. Whenever.

I crawled out of bed again at ten o'clock and staggered toward the smell of coffee in the kitchen.

“You look like hell,” Jess said, glancing up from the paper.

“Thanks,” I croaked. “You have no idea how much that doesn't help.”

“Do us both a favor and have some coffee,” she said taking a sip of her own. “So, where do you plan to go to dinner?”

“That little Middle Eastern place on Sansom.” The coffee maker looked like an oasis sitting there on the counter as I staggered toward it.

“That little hole-in-the wall place? He would take you anywhere you wanted. Why not someplace fancy?”

“That place is really good and the people who own it are sweet. Besides, it's close by. Maybe afterward we can go down to Suburban Station and see if Stan's playing.” I filled my mug and just as I was about to reach for the creamer I stopped myself. This was a black coffee kind of morning.

“Stan? You want your first date with a senator’s son to include a trip to a railway station to listen to a street musician?”

“Stan’s really talented. He’s credited on albums put out by some real blues giants.” I collapsed ungracefully into a seat across from her. Amazingly, I wasn’t hung-over, but it felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck and dragged for a couple of miles.

“Yeah Gab, thirty years ago, but he's a street musician now.”

“I think that if Braden doesn't like Stan and the Middle Eastern place, he's not going to like me much. Besides, I’m going to game night with him!” She smiled and shook her head like she thought that I was crazy but she loved me anyway. Then she got up and went over to the sink to rinse out her mug and put away the dishes in the drying rack.

I quickly finished my coffee and had just started to feel semi-human again when I heard my cell phone start ringing. I froze. Jess swung around and gave me an expectant look.

“Gabrielle! Answer your phone!” she ordered, diving at my purse. She grabbed it and threw a Hail Mary pass across our kitchen that would have had NFL scouts interested. I caught it… and fumbled… but Jess was on it. She threw her body on the bag and thrust her hand in just in time to click answer and pant into the phone like an obscene caller.

“Give me that!” I grabbed it away from her. “Hello?”

“Gabrielle? Are you okay? Was that a dog?”

“Braden? No, that was Jessica. She exerted herself a bit on the way to the phone.” I gave her a “what the hell is wrong with you?” look.

“I see. I think. Uh, anyway, I hope it's not too early…”