Winning Appeal(10)

My doorbell rang and I jumped. Rolling my eyes, and forcing myself to calm down, I went over to answer it. When I swung it open, my mouth went dry. Mark stood there in a tuxedo, looking positively wonderful.

His attention snapped to me when he heard the door open. I saw his eyes quickly travel up and down my body. Then a sexy smile slowly formed on his lips, and it felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. All I could think was, “Please don’t let me break out in hives.” And then, “You suck at romance, Beth.”

“Were you always this tall?” he asked, looking into my eyes, which were almost level with his. I got lost in the gray smoke for a moment.

“I’m wearing higher heels,” I mumbled. “Because there will be dancing. And I wanted our parts to line up well.” Then what I had just said sunk in, and I closed my eyes and felt my face get hot. I wanted our parts to line up well?

“Uh, well, that’s always good I guess,” he said with a laugh. I opened my eyes again and forced a bright smile to cover up my humiliation.

“The car isn’t here yet,” I spit out quickly. “Come in, though, and make yourself comfortable.” I stepped to the side to give him room to pass, and then turned to close the door. I wanted to ask him what he thought of the place, and so I spun around quickly, sweeping my arm out, in a warm and expansive gesture of welcome.

Unfortunately, he had paused right behind me, which meant that I essentially punched him in the gut. His eyes watered a bit, but the smile never left his face.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Personally, I myself, wanted to crawl into a hole and die at that moment.

“I’m fine. No worries,” he replied sounding a little hoarse, as he backed away from me slowly. Again. I sighed, and resolved to do my best not to cause him any further injury. “This place is nice. I like bold color,” he said, looking around.

“Me too. Bold color is… good,” said the woman with a Masters degree in Art History from Vassar. “And bright color too… is good.” Have I mentioned my semester at the Sorbonne? He gave me a funny look. I can’t imagine why.

“Are you okay?” He sounded a little concerned, like he was wondering if I had sustained yet another head injury. I wanted to slit my wrists.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” I walked over to the sofa and sat down. “I shared my bed last night.” I leapt back up to my feet. “With a Chihuahua!”

He gave me a surprised look, and suddenly, I was overcome with amusement at how ridiculous I sounded. I stopped talking and bit my lip, trying not to laugh. It didn’t work. I cracked up.

“What?” he asked. He was smiling, but now he was looking really confused and maybe a little afraid.

“I’m sorry… it’s just that… I’m usually so much cooler than this.” I choked out, holding my stomach. “I’ve never been so fucking awkward in my life.” I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe, but his reply was what actually took my breath away.

“First of all, never apologize for laughing. You’re even more beautiful when you laugh. Secondly, I’m kind of nervous myself.”

I stopped laughing and dry swallowed. Then, it was like there was something pulling us together, like we were magnetic. We began to move toward each other in a barely perceptible way, until the buzzer rang. The car had arrived. Damn.

When we got to the parking garage, Louis, the guy who usually drove me to these events was waiting. He worked for my father and he was trained in security. He held the door for us and Mark helped me into the back seat.

It was a short ride, and we were approaching the museum within minutes. I reached into my clutch bag and pulled out a mint, offering Mark one, and popping another into my mouth. After all, there was nothing more embarrassing than getting caught with bad breath. Remember that I said that, by the way.

“So, still up for the limo sex?” Mark joked.

I laughed in surprise, and accidentally sucked the mint into my throat, getting it lodged there. I started choking and making a gurgling sound, and Louis, who was also trained in CPR, immediately crossed three lanes of traffic, and illegally parked on a median in the middle of the Ben Franklin Parkway.

Mark was already attempting to apply the Heimlich maneuver, but Louis was having none of it. It was his job to save the senator’s daughter from the killer Altoid, and no one would stop him. He dove out of the driver’s seat, flew around to the back, and hauled me out of the car. Then he proceeded to stand behind me and squeeze my ribs so hard, that my feet left the ground.