A Total Waste of Makeup (17 page)

I have to say, that gives both Dawn and me pause. He’s right. I mean, how many first dates have we all gone on hoping we’ve found our Prince Charming? Assuming he’ll be nice to us, assuming he wants a relationship. Hell, just assuming he doesn’t have some girlfriend he’s cheating on that night. It really has nothing to do with the guy du jour. It has nothing to do with a real relationship that might be forged in the future. It’s all about what’s going on in our heads at that moment.

Knowing this, I vow to forget about Jordan, and focus all of my attention on the man who has shown interest in me. In the man who wanted a date with me. In the man who kissed me.

Drew stares at his beer mug, tapping the rim of it nervously. “So…Dawn…what’s your best opening line?”

Dawn doesn’t miss a beat. As Drew takes a sip of his beer, she looks him right in the eye with her most seductive look and says, “Honey, I’d like to ride you like a Harley on a bad stretch of road.”

Drew chokes on his drink, nearly spitting it on her, and she gives him a self-satisfied smile.

Our next few hours were a haze of drinking, bull riding, and more drinking. Kate quietly sat in a corner, lovingly staring into Mike’s eyes all night. The rest of us were not so quiet.

Knowing that I had a limo for the night, the boys quickly switched from beer to well drinks, downing giant glasses of drinks with names like “Texas Tea.” And all of us were doing complimentary shots with the bartenders all night. The drinks seemed to have loosened both men up. (Or maybe it loosened Dawn and me up. Does it really matter?)

Doug made me laugh all night. Now that he was rip-roaring drunk, he wasn’t nearly as pretentious as he had been during the dinner party.

Right now, Drew is in line to ride the bull, and Dawn is with him to cheer him on. Doug and I are “guarding their seats,” sneaking some kisses, and talking.

“You really are cute tonight,” Doug says, leaning in to me like he’s going to kiss me.

“You’re pretty cute yourself,” I say, blushing and returning the compliment.

Doug comes back with, “Not as cute as you.”

Isn’t it truly amazing what passes for conversation when the two people involved are still at that
Oh my God, our knees are almost touching!
phase? Soon, we’ll graduate to “You hang up first…no, you…no, you…”

Doug leans in for a kiss and the two of us start making out like teenagers. He breaks from the kiss just long enough to say, “You are the best kisser.”

“Only because I have such a good partner.”

Yes—it’s a marriage of the minds at this stage. Doug begins nibbling my ear, and I’m so turned on, I’m pretty much ready to jump him right here and now, and give everyone a show on this bar.

Suddenly next to me, I hear, “Doug?”

Startled, I jerk my head back and whip it around to a fifty-something man in jeans, looking a little out of place. Doug turns to him and, smooth as silk, shakes his hand. “Jeff. Good to see you. What brings you here?”

The older gentleman sighs. “Oh, my girlfriend wanted to come, and I can’t say no to her. We’re actually leaving soon, but I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

“Well it’s good to see you out of the office,” Doug says, a little too slickly, then introduces me. “This is my girlfriend Charlie.”

“How do you do?” I say, not responding at all to the girlfriend comment.

“Jeff Caraway.”

“Oh,” I say pleasantly, recognizing the name immediately.

“Jeff owns the company I work for,” Doug says, although he really didn’t need to tell me that. Jeff Caraway is one of the biggest behind-the-scenes names in Hollywood.

“Charlie works for Drew Stanton,” Doug says.

“Oh, I know Drew,” Caraway says, although I have a feeling “know” is a relative term. “Good guy.” Caraway pats Doug twice on the shoulder, and says, “I should get back to my lady. Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

“You, too,” I say politely.

Caraway walks back to “his lady,” a little embryo of a thing, and Doug turns to me, embarrassed.

“Girlfriend, huh?” I say flirtatiously.

He shrugs. “What, you don’t think so?”

“Well…” I smile, and actually blush. “I don’t know…,” I say, my voice trailing off.

I look to the ground, then look away. I can’t actually face him, because then that would be admitting I’m into him. (I can just hear my mother in my head sarcastically saying, “God forbid he should know that.”)

And if I look into his eyes, all I will want to do is kiss him.

So I do.

And I’m interrupted again.

“Charlie,” I hear Kate say in an apologetic tone.

I quickly stop kissing Doug to see Kate holding hands with Mike. “We’re gonna take off.”

“You’re what? No, no, no…”

Could I have been more subtle?

Kate yawns. “Look, you guys are having a great time, and I don’t want to spoil it, but I’m exhausted, and I need to go to sleep. Mike’s offered to give me a ride home.”

I’ll just bet he has.

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” I ask Mike and Doug, then grab Kate’s hand and pull her out of their hearing range. “What are you doing?”

“Going home.”

“Alone?” I ask.

“No. Wasn’t that the whole point of the evening?” Kate asks back.

“No. The point was to have a night of female bonding with your friends.”

“Which is why you’re making out with a guy right now, instead of talking to me?” Kate asks sarcastically.

I look over her shoulder at the two men. “You make a good point. I’m a shitty friend. Let me grab Dawn, we’ll say good-bye to the guys, and I’ll take you home.”

Kate laughs. “Why? So we can all leave the men we like in the name of female bonding?”

“Yeaaahhh…,” I say in a tone of “ddduuuuhhhh…”

Then I think about it. “Well, that does sound kind of stupid when you say it like that,” I say to Kate.

Kate kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And she walks back to Mike, takes his hand, and walks out the door.

Is it just me, or does she seem to be taking this whole breakup thing too well?

Thirteen

Don’t drink and drive.

Limos are the best thing ever! At two o’clock in the morning, Drew, Doug, Dawn, and I piled into the limo, and debated what to do next.

“I vote for Canter’s!” I say, referring to the famous old deli on Fairfax.

“Why?” says Drew.

“Because they have food there,” I point out.

Dawn has already pulled a bottle of champagne from the cooler in the back, and as she pops the cork, Doug pulls out glasses. “I say we go to my place,” Doug says, then looks at me and winks. “I have food there, too.”

“You’re a guy who works sixty hours a week,” I say. “How do I know you really have food there?”

Doug smiles as he hands me a glass of champagne. “I happen to be a very good cook. Name a dish—I’ll make it.”

I look up to the ceiling and pucker up my lips, thinking. Finally I come up with, “A triple decker ham and swiss, on rye, mustard only, no mayo.”

Dawn rolls her eyes, and hands Drew a glass of champagne. “You’re just saying that because you want to go to Canter’s.”

I smile at her, as Drew gives another suggestion, “Caviar—beluga. Toast points. Cold potatoes. And a dollop of crème fraiche.” We all stare at Drew. “My house. It’s all set up in the fridge.”

I look at Doug, and he’s got that,
God, I want to kiss you so much right now
look on his face.

So I bail on the Canter’s idea. “All right,” I tell Drew. “But you two go. I think I’m going to take Doug up on that cooking for me idea.”

I dip my chin down, bite my lip slightly, and give Doug my best innocent girl look.

Well, as innocent as a girl can look who’s almost thirty, wasted, and going to a man’s apartment at two
A.M
.

Dawn opens her eyes wide and stares at me. I’m not sure if it’s disapproval of me going home with Doug, or of me leaving her with Drew. “Charlie, why don’t you come with us?”

Drew takes the moment to put his arm around Dawn and nuzzle her neck. “What? Don’t you trust me alone with you?”

And I could have sworn I saw Dawn fidget like a schoolgirl with a huge crush on the captain of the football team. “Of course,” she says to Drew, smiling and turning her head toward him as he nuzzles her neck. “It’s just that I don’t want to be rude.”

“
They’re
dumping
us
. We’re not dumping them,” Drew points out. “Besides, I promise to be a gentleman.”

Dawn squints her eyes at him suspiciously. He smiles. “Seriously,” he says. “I have three guest rooms, and you can wear a pair of my pajamas. I just don’t want to say good night yet.”

Weird. I can tell he’s telling the truth. They’re not going to do anything tonight. Drew, who could pretty much have sex with any woman he wants tonight, wants to not have sex with Dawn.

I’ve got to admit, there’s a little part of me that’s jealous of that.

Don’t do anything in your life just to get someone else’s approval. Yours is the only one that matters.

By the time we drop Drew and Dawn off twenty minutes later, I am determined not to sleep with Doug tonight. I don’t care how great he is—I am going to feel terrible about myself tomorrow morning if I do sleep with him.

Doug and I wave good-bye to Drew and Dawn, Dawn makes plans with me for tomorrow night, and the driver closes our door.

The second the door is closed, Doug leans over to me and whispers, “I missed you.” And he gives me the most dreamy kiss. I mean, dreamy—that is the only way to describe it. He is a wonderful kisser. We kiss until we hear the driver open and close his door, and then wait until he lowers the partition.

“Where to, ma’am?”

“Uh…” I shrug, looking at Doug for directions.

“100 Ocean Avenue,” Doug tells him. “But first we need to make a stop. Can you take us to the Ralph’s on Bundy and Wilshire?”

We kiss until we get to the grocery store, which is only a few minutes away. He tried to move his hand over my bra once, but I maneuvered his hand away expertly, and he didn’t push it.

When we get into the Ralph’s, I feel a wave of nostalgia. “Hey, this is the Ralph’s Dawn, Kate, and I went to when we went to UCLA.”

“You and Dawn have been friends for that long?” Doug asked, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. We were roommates in college,” I say, then sigh. “So many moons ago.” I take a moment to stroll down memory lane before I turn to him. “We used to have these pig-out nights during finals week. We’d get frozen pizza, potato chips, ice cream, whipped cream, Hershey’s syrup, and Oreos. Then we’d each get a candy bar for the drive home, so we didn’t have to wait until we got home to start eating.”

Doug smiles at me, grabs my waist, and pretends he’s going to tickle me. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Let’s get all those things.”

“Really?” I say, scrunching up my face and smiling. “You don’t think that’s silly?”

“Of course it’s silly. That’s why we have to do it.” Doug takes my hand, and we walk hand in hand down the aisles, getting our pig-out food.

We’re at Doug’s place about twenty minutes later, a beautiful two-bedroom condominium located on the sixth floor of a building in Santa Monica. He has a view of the ocean from almost every room.

The place is a little too bachelory—if this were the eighties, he’d have a Nagel painting up. The carpet is bright white, the couches are bright white. No three-year-old’s grape jelly–stained hands have been in here. And, not to get too graphic, but it doesn’t seem like any bachelorette who might be out of Tampax has been here, either. I mean, the place is white, white, white.

As we unload groceries onto the white marble countertops, I start thinking about the future. I know, I shouldn’t. But I’m not talking
wedding day
future—just
what would it be like to have him be my last call of the night?
immediate future. And
what would it be like to have his tongue in my…

Bad Charlie. I mentally roll up a newspaper and swat myself on the nose.

Doug pulls out a pizza pan as I pull out a frozen Red Baron pepperoni pizza. “I still can’t believe you wanted to get the vegetable lovers one,” I tease him. “What kind of a wuss are you?”

Doug puts some aluminum foil over the pan. “Hey, I was doing that for you. I figured a woman with your figure has to eat a lot of vegetables.”

“Hey! I think you’ve got your new best line,” I joke as I put the pizza on the aluminum foil. Doug laughs and gives me a quick peck on the lips. “Let me put this other stuff away. Would you like some Merlot with your pizza?”

“Merlot? A man after my own heart. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”

“Great.” He pulls a corkscrew out of the kitchen drawer and prepares the bottle. “Wine will be ready in a moment. Pig-out food will be ready soon, too.”

I walk over to his living room window to check out his view.

Then I walk out to the balcony and look at the stunning view of the ocean. It sparkles in the moonlight. And despite how high up we are, I can hear waves crashing down below. In the silence of a three
A.M
. city, all I can hear are waves. I don’t remember the last time I was so at peace with the world.

As embarrassed as I am to admit this, I start imagining what it would be like to live here, to have that sense of serenity around me all the time. Man, to have coffee in the mornings on the balcony, smelling the sea air, or reading a good book in the living room, just occasionally glancing up at that gorgeous view. Or getting up at dawn and jogging on the beach. Okay, wait, scratch that one—or making love listening to the ocean waves as you—

Stop it, Charlie! Put that out of your mind. You’re not supposed to be thinking about sex yet
.

Doug comes up behind me, donuts his arm around my waist, and kisses my neck. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”

“It’s stunning,” I agree. “Where I live, the best view I get is of all the dogs at the dog park across the street.”

“That’s a good view, too,” Doug says, turning me around and handing me a glass of wine. “Now, this is a ’91 Merlot. A client gave it to me, so if it sucks, we’ll pour it down the drain and start over.”