Arm Candy (16 page)

“Darling, don’t,” interrupted Chase’s father.

“No, dear, I won’t restrain myself this time. I’ve had enough. Chase, I was embarrassed. It’s humiliating to see them! With nearly three years gone by, it’s—it’s time. You can just tell Patricia is simply chomping at the bit for a wedding. Chomping! She always uses Ron Wendt and it would be simply stunning. It’s what everyone wants! I can’t keep running into them at the Colony; it’s awkward!”

“Mother, I know,” Chase replied, feeling the back of his neck grow hot as his brow perspired under the nuclear rays of his mother’s hot gaze. “I just . . . I’m not sure if Liesel is The One.”

Brooke dropped her sterling fork with a thud onto her Baccarat plate. “The
One
? Please. What is this, a Disney movie? Are you expecting bluebirds and bunny rabbits to sing on a hollow log? What a positively pedestrian notion! Be realistic, Chasie. I mean, honestly. You’re looking for a partner here.”

“Mother, it’s not a business merger. It’s a marriage.”

“What do you think marriage is?” She laughed.

“Well, that’s sad,” Chase replied.

“This is preposterous. Grant, knock some sense into him, please. This is insane! Of course you and Liesel are getting married. This was never a question of
if
. It was about
when
, you said! Now you’re telling me you’re not sure? What are you waiting for, some lightning bolt?”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t listen to this nonsense!” Brooke said, shaking her head and looking as though she might weep. “How am I supposed to see the Van Delfts? HOW?”

“Son, take your time. If you’re not sure, then you’re not sure,” offered Grant with a pat on the back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Brooke said, almost tearing up. “Grant, you LOVE Liesel!”

“Well, of course I do, dear, but I’m not the one marrying her.”

“SHE’S GIVEN YOU THREE YEARS!” she screamed at Chase. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, THIS IS RIDICULOUS!” Brooke fumed and stormed out. As a woman, on behalf of all women, she was horrified that her son would be one of those men who strings along a poor doting girl forever, stealing away childbearing years and tossing her aside to start over as her friends are walking down the aisle.

Chase and Grant sat quietly after Brooke’s emotional departure.

Grant pierced the silence. “Son, I meant what I said. You know we love Liesel, but you have to be the one who’s sure, not us.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Chase appreciated his father’s gesture, but they both knew Brooke was as determined as Liesel to seal the deal. The problem was, anything that felt like a
deal
probably wasn’t what Chase wanted in the long run. But one thing he did know for sure. As his crass brother Price would so gracefully put it, it was time to “shit or get off the pot.”

—Helen Rowland

 

 

 

“W
ith all due respect, Bro, they’re right, what the fuck are you thinking? What are you waiting for?” asked an incredulous Wills Fine on the Rover Club squash court when Chase reported the heated exchange with his mother. “Most guys would kill for a girl like Liesel. Hell, I would! She’s got it all.”

“I guess.”

“You
guess
? Dude, you oughta have your fucking head examined! When she started at Sotheby’s, every guy who wasn’t gay was falling all over himself. I remember I was the auctioneer for this contemporary sale and she walked in the gallery with her boss, and I almost fucked up the bids.”

“I remember you telling me that,” Chase said, serving the ball.

“I don’t know what crack pipe you’re on, man. She’s hot, she’s nice, she’s totally wife material.”

“I know,” Chase said, feeling foolish taking for granted someone it seemed everyone would kill to wed, including Wills. “I’m just . . . not a hundred percent sure. It’s all there, everything you listed and more. I don’t know what my problem is.”

“Hey, your problem is called cold feet. All men get that before taking the plunge. That’s why there’s a name for it, dude. It’s common.”

“I guess,” Chase said, whacking the ball as hard as he could. As it bounced and ricocheted in the cube of their court, he felt his life was as out of control and zigzagged as that little black ball.

After a steam and a shower, Wills and Chase decided to get some pasta at Sette Mezzo. The place was packed with people, flooding out onto Lexington, but Chase knew the owner, who waved them through, offering a table in five minutes. As Wills scanned the crowd for familiar faces (there always was one. Or ten), Chase was stunned to spot Eden. As crisp and clean as he felt post-workout, sweat started to form on his brow. His heart raced and he looked away before she could look up.

 

 

Eden was at a table of six women, two still-married uptown mommy pals, Hannah and Maggie, Allison of course, plus single moms Sara and Callie, who were flipping through their mental black books of who they could hook up with. While Eden was like sisters with Allison, she was not a girls’ girl. She never had a
Sex and the City
pussy posse, and the idea of group dinner, Chardonnay, and chat about young bucks’ asses was fun once in a while but not about to become a weekly habit. Still, on a night when she would have been doing nothing but sitting around watching
Mad Men
reruns, it was nice to get a phone call inviting her out for a spontaneous moms’ dinner with Sara, Callie, Allison, and a few other friends from their school. They were not at all the nightmare uptown yummy mummies Eden had envisioned. In fact, she was surprised to find that they were all very cool, relaxed, and not afraid to lose the edit button.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I just snarfed all that gnocchi,” said Allison to her empty plate. “I am Shamu.”

“Speaking of whales, did you guys see Chip Krakower out front?” asked Sara. “He has ballooned!”

“Dewars is his water,” said Allison, shrugging. “Morbid obesity is the least of his worries. His son has more problems than a math book.”

“He’s a biter,” said Callie, filling Eden in. “He has a constant shadow at nursery school. The class filed a petition to have him booted ’cause so many kids came home with teeth marks on their thighs. He breaks the skin every time.”

“No!” gasped Hannah. “You lie.”

“I wish I were,” said Allison. “You’ve heard of Teen Wolf? This is Tot Wolf.”

“So, Eden, where should we go after this?” Callie asked, her eyes twinkling with estrogen. “Cipriani again?”

“No. Too much competition. It’s C.C.S.,” said Sara, conspiratorially to the table. “Cougar Central Station.”

“Wait, I thought that was Aspen?” asked Hannah, laughing.

“Well, sure, Aspen is our mecca,” proclaimed Callie the self-professed cougar-in-chief. “All those hot ski instructors looking to get out of their parkas!”

“You are killing me,” cackled Eden.

“Oh, I swear, they are dumb as the rocks they ski on, but they sure know how to make you melt off the slopes,” said Sara.

“They put the
mount
in
mountain
,” said Callie.

“And the ass in Aspen!” added Sara with a mascara’d wink.

“Yeah, and sure know how to punch my lift ticket,” Callie added, as the girls wailed.

“Anyway, since we can’t troll for tail in Colorado tonight, we can do the next best thing and hit Bar & Books or the Lenox Room,” said Callie. “I met this hot, stressed-out Goldman analyst who never gets away from his desk, and I blew his mind. I gave him my card and said anytime they let you outta that cage, call me up! He couldn’t be cuter!”

“Hotter than the Harvard Tutors guy who’s helping Kayleigh with math?” asked Hannah.

“Yes, even hotter,” pronounced Callie.

“Wait,” interrupted Maggie, horrified. “Are you seriously banging your kid’s math tutor?”

“Oh yeah. He teaches her times tables, then after she goes to bed, he gives me some long division.”

“Are you kidding? Every uptown divorcée does it!” Sara laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, Mags, everyone knows Harvard Tutors offer full service help,” concurred Sara. “I don’t even wait for the kids to hit the hay. They fill in the blanks on the quiz while he fills me in upstairs!”

“EW! SHUT UP!” Maggie commanded, putting her hands over her ears, as Allison, Hannah, and Eden pounded the table with laughter.

Just then, Allison abruptly stopped mid-guffaw with a sharp gasp. She threw down her wineglass and grabbed Eden’s tiny wrist.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit,” she whispered, prompting the others to lean inward.

“Eden, it’s HIM. Wait, don’t turn around.”

Eden turned around. She locked eyes with Chase and smiled, turning back to the henfest.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” she wondered aloud.

“Wait, isn’t that Chase Lydon?” asked Hannah.

“Uh, yeah! Is he a fox or what?” Allison asked. “He and Eden had a
moment
. So sexy.”

“Gorgeous,” added Maggie. “But super young.”

“Come on. It’s a new decade! We’re hot women here; we’re not our mothers and grandmothers,” said Allison indignantly. “Forty is the new thirty! Sixty is the new forty!”

“Yeah, and didn’t you guys hear?” asked Eden, rolling her eyes. “Dead is the new sixty! Rotting corpse is the new seventy!”

“Shut up, I’m serious,” said Allison. “If any of us were single we’d hop on that for shizzle.”

“You’re so pretty, Eden, you could seriously get any guy,” said Hannah. “Allison confirmed that one-hit wonder by Desperate Measures was about you, after all!”

“That was about YOU?” Sara beamed. “I loved that song!”

“Yeah, if anyone can get him, you can,” echoed Maggie.

“Thanks for the pep talk, people.” Eden ran a hand through her glossy brown hair. “I have to go to the Ladies.” She got up and walked downstairs, looking back at her table, who watched as she passed by the empty table Chase and Wills were being led to.

Upon her return, there was no way to not cross their path. The jammed restaurant was like social bumper cars.

“Hello,” said Eden as she looked at Chase. “Seems I’m running into you in all the chicest places.”

“Hi! Yes, um, nice to see you again,” Chase stammered. “This is my friend Wills.”

As Eden and Wills shook hands, the waiter brought their drinks.

“Stoli tonic,” he said, placing the goblet in front of Wills. “And ginger ale for Mr. Lydon.”

“Slow down there, Trouble,” deadpanned Eden.

“I, uh, have to get up early for work,” offered Chase nervously.

Eden lit up the table with her huge smile. “Okay, then. Enjoy.”

As she turned back to her table she realized that not only her gang but also others in the restaurant were staring. She had only just moved uptown and was a new quasi-celeb in these parts, and it was almost surreal to see her interacting with one of their own when she hung on so many cavernous living room walls on Fifth Avenue. One private equity partner slash major art collector had lent his large-scale portrait of her to the Tate Modern for a solo show and missed the work so much that upon its return he and his wife threw a massive welcome-home party for it, complete with Glorious Food catering and coverage on New York Social Diary.

But Eden had never cared about any of those boring 10021 dudes, whether they collected her image or not. Until now. There was a palpable chemistry with Chase that could no longer be denied. And when she looked over her shoulder before sitting back down, she knew he felt it, too.

—Jerry M. Wright

 

 

 

A
fter the checks had been paid, both tables got up to leave at the same time. Allison’s friends peeled off in their various directions, citing high school babysitter time bombs. After all the gals hugged good-bye, Allison kissed Eden good night and saw Chase and Wills through the glass door, heading up the two stairs to exit onto Lexington.

“There’s your lover boy,” teased Allison with a whisper into Eden’s ear.

“Shut up,” replied Eden. “What are we, back in sixth grade?”

“Want me to pass him a note to meet you by the bleachers?”

“Ha-ha.”

The two waved and walked in separate directions, just as Wills bumped into an old college chum whom he bear-hugged.

“Wills, I gotta get home,” said Chase, quickly greeting Wills’s friend before bolting to catch up with Eden, who was slowly striding toward Seventieth Street.

“Hey again,” Chase said as he caught up beside her.

“Hi there,” Eden said, staring into his eyes.

“Where are you walking?” he asked. His whole body felt swollen. His cheeks reddened, his legs tingled, and his brow began to perspire. “It’s such a nice night.”

“Home. Sixty-eighth Street between Madison and Park.”

“Oh yeah? That’s a really nice block.” They walked side by side down Lexington.

“It is. I’m right in the middle of those three wide fabulous old walk-ups. I’m on the second floor with these great high ceilings and century-old moldings. It feels very European.”

“Sounds beautiful” was all he could muster.

“Yeah, it really is. It was so hard for me to move up here, but I wanted a fresh start and distance from my ex. And the walk-up feels more, I don’t know, accessible somehow. More me.”

“How do you like it so far?” Chase asked. “Must not be quite as exciting.”

“I’m into it . . . ,” she trailed off.

“You don’t sound so convinced.” Chase smiled.

“No, no, I like it, I do, it’s very Old World graceful, and my best friend, Alli, lives up here, so it was a natural choice. It’s weird, though, how quiet it is. It’s practically suburbia compared with downtown.”