Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (13 page)

‘How?’ I sighed. And how could the pizza be all gone already? ‘I’ve never had to be single before.’

‘You’d never been to New York before but you’re making that work,’ Jenny said, standing up and vanishing into the freezer. She stood up, displaying a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. Truly she had all the answers. ‘And you’ll make this work. If you have to sit in the apartment and cry for a month, I’ll come home with ice cream every day. If you want to go fuck every man on Wall Street, I’ll come home every night with condoms. And earplugs. But you will find a way to deal with it.’

I gratefully took a spoon and plunged into the ice cream. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered and promptly burst into tears.

‘Hey,’ Jenny rested my head on her shoulder. ‘Just so you know, they were pretty extreme examples. I’m going to go roommate from hell on your ass if you really do start bringing every guy in New York home.’

‘I don’t think I’d be a very good slut. Look at the state of me, I’m supposed to be going on my first date in ten years in, what, three hours? And I’m sat here full of pizza and beer, sobbing on your shoulder about being crap in bed.’

‘Shit girl!’ Jenny pulled the beer out of my hand again. This was getting annoying. ‘You’re going to go on the best date anyone ever had, and do not worry. Gina might not be here but I’m kinda an amazing stylist myself. Give me an hour and you will look the absolute shit.’

‘Just clean and without pizza sauce around my mouth would be good right now,’ I muttered catching sight of myself in the mirror.

The wealth of taxies running past our block had thinned out by the time I emerged onto Lexington looking if not the shit then not quite as shit as I had looked an hour or so ago, so I started walking. I couldn’t believe I was going on a date. With a beautiful man. In a beautiful pink, silk Marc by Marc Jacobs halter dress. With a smug little smile on my face that was growing every second. And I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to meet Alex on Saturday night. Was it really tacky to accept a date with someone when you had another date already lined up? And I’d completely forgotten all of Erin’s advice, I hadn’t been on a date since Mark had taken me to see Speed 2 (and I’m not sure that counted as a date, Mark actually watched every second of the film from start to finish), and here I was strutting down the street in New York on my way to dinner with a gorgeous, rich banker. But instead of visualizing myself and Tyler sharing a joke and a bottle of red, all I could see was Mark and that slag laughing theatrically together, holding hands and reading home décor magazines. I fumbled around in my (divine) handbag until I found the crappy old mobile phone Jenny had loaned me and dialled Erin’s number.

‘Erin White.’

‘Hi, Erin? It’s Angela Clark?’

‘Hey, I was just gonna call Jenny, I have some amazing news,’ Erin’s cheerful voice was just what I needed to distract me.

‘I could use some good news, I’m just on my way to meet Tyler,’ I said, keeping an eye and an arm out for a passing cab.

‘Oh, awesome. Remember, be interested, ask lots of questions, don’t talk too much about your past or exes and don’t be too keen. You want to keep him on his toes.’

‘That was your good news?’ I waved down a lit cab. He swerved dramatically towards me and stopped inches from my Louboutins. Shoeicide, a fate worse than death. ‘Mercer Kitchen? Uh, Mercer Street?’

‘No! I am such a retard,’ Erin laughed down the crackly line, ignoring my directions to the driver. ‘I was at The Look today. They want to meet you. Tomorrow.’

‘Oh my God, seriously?’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘The editor of The Look wants to see me?’

‘The online editor, Mary Stein. Can you be there at ten?’

‘Yes!’ I squealed. ‘This is amazing! Thank you so much, Erin.’

‘No worries, just be honest. Mary can be a tough cookie but she’s cool. Now more importantly, back to your date.’

‘I’m a bit worried to be honest,’ I peered out of the windows as we took a hard right. Eventually I spotted a sign for West Houston. ‘But I’m almost there. Wish me luck.’

‘You don’t need luck, just stick to The Rules. Bye hon.’

It took a couple of seconds for me to realize which building was the Mercer Kitchen after my cab unceremoniously tossed me out on the middle of Mercer Street, because of the nonexistent ‘traffic’. After watching a few beautiful people head into a nameless glass door that opened to release delicious smells, loungey music and lots of laughter, I bit the bullet and opened the door for myself. The place was small but crowded with lots of happy looking people. I hoped the relaxed atmosphere would be contagious or at least available in a glass for a reasonable fee. Sitting at the bar, wearing another beautifully cut suit, white shirt and no tie was Tyler. He looked completely at ease, even though he was alone amongst half a dozen cliquey clusters of people, giggling, hugging, touching and kissing. Narrowly avoiding falling down the large staircase in the middle of the room, I sidled around to the bar and raised a hand in hello. Tyler hopped off his stool to welcome me with a kiss on the cheek. He smelt divine, fresh and clean but masculine and delicious.

‘Hi,’ he said, making eye contact with the barman, pointing at his drink and then holding up two fingers. Ultra smooth. ‘I had a last minute panic that you wouldn’t know where you were going.’

‘I checked with a friend,’ I said, settling on the next stool. ‘I don’t know what the rules are on being late or early or whatever so I just thought, you know, be different, be on time.’ I looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Or maybe I’m a little bit late. Sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I was actually a little late. Work overran, I didn’t even have time to go home, so really, don’t worry about it.’

‘You don’t live nearby?’ I asked, trying to stick to approved topics. ‘I mean, near your work?’

‘No,’ he shook his head making his hair swish. Really, it was just like a men’s L’Oréal ad. He was so worth it. ‘I live uptown, work downtown. Sometimes it’s a pain, but I couldn’t live downtown again. You still at The Union?’

‘No actually, I moved today,’ I said. This was going OK, I was having a conversation! ‘I’m in Murray Hill at my friend’s apartment, 39th and Lexington?’

‘Great, I’m on Park, a little further up.’ The waiter presented Tyler with our drinks and a bill face down, which he answered with a black Amex. Wow, I’d only ever read about them. ‘Hope you don’t mind me ordering your drink, they do great cocktails here.’

I took the cocktail graciously and sipped it. Man alive, it was like straight vodka mixed with a drop of Ribena. Maybe I should go slow.

‘I think our table should be ready now,’ he said, picking up both drinks and standing. I didn’t remember him being so tall … ‘Ready?’

The hostess smiled warmly and guided us to a table in the back corner of the restaurant where we could see absolutely everyone. And absolutely everyone looked as if they were enjoying their food.

‘God, I could eat a horse,’ I said, taking a menu from the waitress and hungrily scanning. ‘Oooh, have you ever had the burger?’

‘I do love a girl that eats,’ Tyler laughed, nodding to the waitress and accepting his menu. ‘I know everyone says it, but there really is nothing worse than bringing a girl out for dinner and then watching her push a lettuce leaf around her plate.’

I smiled tensely. Was that good or bad? Did he just call me a fatty?

‘Honestly,’ he went on without looking away from the menu. ‘I dated this French model for a while and I swear I never saw her consume more than a Diet Coke.’

And was it usual for a man to start a first date talking about ex-girlfriends? And had he called me a fatty?

‘Well, I do eat,’ I said, not really knowing where to go. ‘What do you recommend?’

‘It’s all good,’ he said, putting his menu down and fixing me with his clear eyes. ‘The fish is always great, burgers are good. And I like the chicken, but I think, yeah, I’m having the lamb tonight.’

‘You come here a lot?’ I asked, starting to get the feeling I was not Tyler’s one special girl.

‘I like to,’ he said. ‘It’s quiet, great food, and always a bunch of interesting people hanging out.’

Oh, he meant me. Sweet. ‘In that case I’ll have the chicken.’

As he started the small talk rolling, what did I do for a living, what did he do for a living, how long had I been in the city, what sights had I seen, I ran a quick comparison on Tyler and Alex. Alex was sexy and cocky and had the whole I’m-in-a-band thing going on, whereas Tyler was good-looking in a clean-cut, I take care of myself, let me take care of you, sort of a way.

‘Oh, well, I’m kind of a venture capitalist,’ he said, after he had ordered for us both. ‘But unless you’ve written some kids’ books about banking, I won’t even try to explain. Not to be patronizing but it’s impossibly dull. And I don’t want to put you off already.’

‘That’s OK,’ I said, brushing my hair behind my ears and ripping apart my warm bread roll as soon as it was put on my side plate. ‘I’m not a numbers person. I only really do words. And words for children at that.’

‘That saves us a really boring fifteen minutes,’ he said, pushing the olive oil towards me for dipping. ‘What is more exciting, is what you’re doing in New York? How do you know your friend?’

‘Oh, slightly longer story.’ I swallowed my bread in preparation. ‘Without going into a lot of off-putting detail, I broke up with … someone, so I decided to take a holiday and I’d never been to New York. I met my friend, the girl I’m staying with, in my hotel. She was looking for a roommate, I was looking for a room and so, here I am.’

‘Wow,’ Tyler looked bemused. ‘You just upped and came to New York? Must have been a bad break-up.’

‘I’m not supposed to tell you about it,’ I said. ‘My friend said no specifics about exes until the fourth date.’

Tyler laughed, nodding. ‘I do love The Rules. You can’t even tell me if I ask?’

‘You might not want to know.’ I paused, trying to weigh up Erin’s sacred advice over Tyler’s warm smile and crinkly eyes. Our first course appeared over his shoulder. Maybe if I told him while he was distracted by lamb. I would have to tell him eventually, anyway, wouldn’t I? It would surely come out before the black Amex funded wedding …

‘Go for it,’ he said, making room for his plate. ‘I’m asking.’

‘OK, but don’t you dare walk out before you’ve eaten.’ I didn’t want to pick up my fork until I’d got the whole story out. Even the short version. ‘I found my boyfriend having sex with this girl he’d been seeing in the back of our car at our best friends’ wedding, screamed at the bride and made her cry, broke the groom’s hand with my shoe and more or less ruined the wedding. Then I ran away to New York. How does that grab you?’

‘And I thought a children’s writer would be shy and retiring,’ he whistled. ‘Now it’s getting interesting.’

‘I suppose before Saturday, I could have been called shy and retiring,’ I said, cutting into the chicken. ‘But seeing your boyfriend’s boxer shorts around his ankles while you’re in a grand’s worth of bridesmaid dress will really give you a kick up the arse.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Tyler put down his knife and fork. ‘You’re talking about this Saturday? Saturday five days ago?’

I nodded thoughtfully. ‘It seems such a long time ago to me now, but I think that’s why I’m not supposed to tell you. Are you freaking out?’

‘Maybe I’ll get around to that later. At the moment I’m still trying to work out why you came to New York when you didn’t know anyone,’ he said. Knife and fork still down. ‘Jesus, all I did on Saturday was go for a run and get a haircut.’

Uh-oh.

‘I accept that it was possibly an extreme reaction. I don’t know, I just always wanted to go to New York, my boyfriend, my ex, never wanted to visit America, he hates to fly, so I thought this would be the perfect time to just get away,’ I said, going in for the mashed potato. If this was the only meal we were ever going to have I was going to eat it all. The mashed potato was amazing. ‘How do they get the potatoes so creamy without them going runny with the gravy? Wow.’

‘I can’t imagine ever doing anything like that,’ Tyler said. He reached for his fork, good sign. ‘The furthest I’ve gone when I’ve been pissed off after a break-up is the China Town Ice Cream Factory.’

‘Well, they were extreme circumstances,’ I said observing him closely. Had I blown it? He picked up his knife. Phew.

‘So this would be your first date since you broke up?’ The knife hovered.

‘Yes,’ I admitted, my eyes glued to the indecisive cutlery. ‘I just, I, well, honestly? I wasn’t really planning on going on dates or anything, but you seemed, you know, nice and normal so I just thought, why not?’

‘Well, I’m glad you did,’ he said. Knife back on the plate. ‘Your ex’s loss is Manhattan’s gain.’

‘Not all of Manhattan,’ I shook my head, ‘my roommate has laid down some fairly strict ground rules about that. The truth is, I haven’t really ever dated so I’ve got a lot to learn, I suppose.’

‘I think there’s a whole lot more I could learn from you,’ Tyler gave me a small smile and sliced up his lamb. ‘Want to try?’

And before I knew it, there I was eating food from his fork, just like in the movies.

A flourless Valrhona chocolate cake, two cappuccinos and a moonlit stroll through Soho later and the date was over. And I was sort of gutted.

‘I had a great time tonight,’ Tyler said, holding his arm out for a cab. ‘Best date with a children’s writer who broke a guy’s hand with a stiletto I ever had.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ I asked, clutching Tyler’s free hand. Even holding hands felt weird, Mark and I hadn’t been a hand holding couple. He nodded as a cab pulled over to the kerb. ‘Do you date a lot? I’m not going all Fatal Attraction on you, I just haven’t really spoken to many men since I got here so I don’t really know how this works.’

He held the door open for me to climb in and then slipped in beside me before he answered. ‘39th and Lex?’ he said to the driver, then turned to me. ‘I guess, honestly, I date kind of a lot. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in about two years and it’s not for the lack of looking.’

‘OK,’ I said, staring straight ahead. He was being honest, that was good. Wasn’t it?