The Blogger and the Hunk (12 page)

“I brought some Chinese takeout and a six-pack of Coke, in glass bottles,” he added. For the first time since she opened the door she noticed the bags he held in his hands. The world could have been ending and she wouldn’t have noticed.

He walked into her living room and set the bags on the coffee table. “I brought a few different entrees because I wasn’t really sure what you liked,” he said taking the many containers out of the bags and placing them on the table. “I brought chopsticks so you can eat out of the cartons, but just in case you don’t know how to use them, I made sure to bring forks too a—” he stopped unpacking the food when he realized Penelope hadn’t moved from the door. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you here this late with takeout and Coke?”

“Because I couldn’t come earlier today. I was busy with non-wedding related errands. I was starving by the time I finished and just decided to get something to eat,” he explained. “Then I thought of the first person who would still be awake at this hour, and I remembered you have issues with insomnia.”

“It’s not insomnia. I just have a very fucked-up sleeping pattern,” Penelope replied, smiling a little. “Thanks for the food, by the way.”

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I can’t eat this all by myself,” Jack exclaimed when Penelope didn’t even make a move toward the food.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just...”

“What? You sick? Maybe you need some chicken soup,” Jack replied, showing some concern.

Penelope shook her head. “It’s a bit too late to eat. I shouldn’t be eating at this hour anyway. And besides, I already brushed my teeth,” she explained, a little sheepish.

“Then brush your teeth again after you eat! Eat, or I will force food down your throat. Not only is that unpleasant, but some of these Chinese dishes have red peppers in them. The really spicy kind. I don’t think you want those stuffed down your throat, do you?” He playfully shot her a stern expression.

Penelope laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll eat! But when my pajama pants don’t fit me anymore, I’m blaming you!”

“You can just borrow some of my sweatpants.” He lifted his eyebrows. Penelope laughed and blushed a little, remembering the hoodie hiding right behind the throw pillow he was sitting on top of. They started eating and Jack glanced at the TV screen. “Is that
Pride and Prejudice
?”

Penelope peered up from her food to focus on the paused show, and turned to give Jack a knowing look. “You’ve watched it before?”

Jack huffed. “Your dear sister made me sit through a whole
Pride and Prejudice
marathon. The show, the movie, and even tried to get me to read the damned book.”

“Not an Austen fan?” Penelope laughed.

“Definitely not. She doesn’t get to the point. It takes her a full paragraph to say a single sentence.”

“Oh? And what kind of author fulfills your needs?”

“Some Palahniuk is a nice way to keep my masculinity intact.”

“Ahh, some transgressive fiction.” Jack nodded. “Do you feel like you’re just living your life through other people’s perspectives?”

Jack slurped the rest of the chow mein into his mouth and contemplated his answer while chewing.

God, he even looks sexy chewing on his food. What the hell is wrong with me?

Penelope was in way over her head. The guy was trying to make things right between them so her sister’s wedding would be a success. It had nothing to do with what her friends kept suggesting. They’d gotten to know each other a little more in the past two weeks. He was an only child, grew up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood with his parents, and in college he was a jock with the brain of a nerd. It wasn’t much to go by, but it was enough for now.

“So?” she inquired again after he swallowed.

“I think, in a way, everyone is formed by society’s standards. There are only a select few who actually go out and do what they want to do.”

“And what does Jack want to do?” Penelope asked, her eyes focusing on his every move.

“I would have liked to be a photographer. It just wasn’t an ideal job for my parents,” he replied, stuffing his face with a chunk of chicken. “Was never good at it either.”

“A photographer? Probably to take pictures of half-naked women, huh?”

“You know, you may find this hard to believe, but I’m not as superficial as you think I am.”

Penelope contemplated that. She had a feeling she had touched a nerve. “So, what would you take pictures of?”

“The city. There’s always something new to see. Any simple object can make the most spectacular photograph.”

Shit. The guy speaks in poetry when his guard is down.

“What does the transgressive Jack do for a living?”

“I work for an accounting firm. One of the branches in my dad’s company is located in Downtown LA.”

“Wow, Mr. Smarty Pants! And rich, too. It’s a wonder my sister never snapped you up.”

Jack chuckled, a little shy. “Naw, your sister never gave me the time of day.”

Penelope laughed.

“What about you? What does the prim and proper Penelope do for a living? Has to do with books right? No normal human being keeps so many books in their house unless the written word is their life.”

“It’s true. I’m an editor. I studied English Literature in school and knew from the beginning editing was going to be my future. Started off in a journalism internship for the newspaper, then climbed my way up the ladder. I do my own thing now, and so far it’s been good to me.”

“Interesting,” Jack replied. “So, if I decided to write my life story, would you be able to edit it for me?”

“Ha ha. Like anyone would actually want to read
your
life story,” Penelope replied, adding a little volume to the TV.

“I don’t know. From the way you describe me, it would probably be called
Jack Goodman: The Memoir of a Modern-Day Casanova.
”

Penelope couldn’t stop herself from laughing while her mouth was full. Jack probably saw more than he bargained for. She quickly closed her mouth and swallowed her food, throwing a sheepish look his way.

“What’s wrong? If you like food, you gotta show it,” he barely managed to say over a mouthful of food.

Penelope smiled appreciatively and turned back to the movie. They quieted down as the voices from the TV filled the room.

* * *

J
ack was dreaming. He was floating in the sky, surrounded by big, fluffy clouds. They were so white and mesmerizing, he felt himself reaching out and squeezing a cotton-like cloud. A sudden pain took over his nose.

He quickly got up from where he was lying and began looking for the cause. When his vision cleared, he realized he wasn’t in his room. He wasn’t even in his own home. And the cloud he had squeezed wasn’t a cloud at all, but Penelope’s thigh lying on top of his legs. Somehow, the two of them had passed out on Penelope’s tiny sofa. And the cause of his pain was Penelope’s arm smacking into his face.

His neck felt cramped and his back was sore, yet he had slept like a baby. The sunlight coming through the windows suggested it was a little later than expected, and Jack looked at his phone.

“Shit!” It was already nine o’clock. He was supposed to be at work an hour ago.

Penelope quickly got up from her fetal position on the couch, groggy. “Huh? What?” she asked, confused.

“It’s nine! I was supposed to be at work already! Shit!”

“Fuck!” The realization alarmed Penelope from her obvious groggy state. “I was supposed to meet up with my best client now!”

Both of them were in motion. Jack followed Penelope to the bathroom, both of them sharing the sink to wash their faces and erase any sign of sleep in their eyes.

“I have an extra toothbrush down here that I haven’t used. Brush your teeth. Your breath smells,” Penelope offered, handing Jack the toothbrush. They brushed their teeth in sync and gargled mouthwash together.

They wiped their faces and quickly began to dress. Penelope went into her room to change while Jack rushed to the kitchen and boiled some water. He searched the cabinets for tea bags and spotted them. By the time Penelope walked into the kitchen fully dressed, the teapot was whistling.

“I took the liberty to boil some water for tea,” Jack confessed, quickly looking through the cupboards for any travel mugs.

“Oh, you’re a savior!” Penelope responded, quickly taking out the mugs from underneath the counter, adding a bag of tea for each, and mixing in a spoonful of honey. “You have everything with you? Shoes, phone, wallet, car keys?” she asked, handing Jack his mug.

“Check, check, check, and check,” Jack responded, grabbing Penelope’s purse from the wall hanger and handing it to her. He opened the door of her apartment and held it.

“Thank you. I guess you’ll text or call me when you’re willing to continue planning for the bachelorette party? We still need a few party supplies,” Penelope added, closing her door and walking down the stairs to the street.

“Yep, I’ll let you know,” Jack responded. “Have a great meeting.” Jack stood facing her when they got to the sidewalk.

“Okay, cool. You, too,” Penelope replied, ready to walk to her car.

“See you later.” Jack swiftly bent down to kiss her cheek, and as a reflex, Penelope kissed his. They turned around and walked to their cars at opposite sides of the street. It wasn’t until Jack had gotten inside his car and buckled himself that he looked at the travel mug in his hand and asked, “What the hell just happened?”

I
remember why I always found love to be a nuisance: you can’t control it. I hate not having control of every aspect of my life. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. You don’t get to choose who makes you happy. It just happens, and in the most inconvenient moments. Unfortunately, there’s no way to stop it.

DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Entry 157

“Mr. Goodman, where would you like me to leave this finished file? It’s the paperwork for the Johnson Company.”

Jack looked up from his desk to see Mary, his secretary, holding a fat manila folder in her hands.

“I’ll just take that for now and plug it into the system before handing it to Records,” he replied. Mary walked toward his desk, a confident sway to her hips, and placed the folder in his outstretched hand.

“Anything else I can do for you?” she asked, deliberately licking her lips. Once upon a time, Jack would’ve taken her up on her offer. He would’ve invited her to dinner, walked her to her place with the excuse to drink a glass of wine, and fucked her until he was numb. Once upon a time, watching Mary walk around in her tight pencil skirt, fuck-me heels, and low-cut blouse that showed a generous amount of cleavage had enticed him, made him hard.

Now, he felt... nothing. And he had no idea why. He dismissed her with a shake of his head, and she left with a small pout of disappointment on her lips.

He hadn’t been himself for the longest time. He was in a dry spell, for goodness’ sake. He’d broken up with his girlfriend a few months before moving to LA, and the last person he’d had sex with was his one-night stand with Penelope. He needed to get back on the horse fast or he was probably going to end up doing something he would regret later. Something like sleeping with Penelope again. He chuckled at his thought process. He wanted her. That much he would admit, but he couldn’t do that to Penelope. She deserved someone who would give her forever.

Yet, for the past few weeks he had spent more time with Penelope than with his own friends. Maybe it was because of the genuine attention she gave him. She seemed to listen to every word that came out of his mouth, and didn’t let his suggestiveness faze her, even though he felt her body respond whenever he was near.

The phone rang, interrupting Jack’s thoughts. He quickly picked up.

“Jack Goodman speaking,” he answered.

“Geez, you’d think you could be a little livelier when answering your own phone. I know you never really liked the office type job, but you’d think you would’ve gotten used to it by now,” his mother answered at the other end of the line.

“Hello, Mom. How are you?” Jack replied, rolling his eyes.

“Still alive, if you must know. Although I could be dead for all you care. What? You don’t have a phone you could call me with just to see how I’m doing? I always have to call you?”

“Yes, Mom. It means you still love me,” Jack teased. His mother scoffed. “Sorry. I’ve just been a little bit preoccupied with my friend’s wedding and dealing with the preparations.”

“I heard! At least Celeste has the decency to call me once in a while to see how we’re doing. She told me you’re her maid of honor. My Jackie, all sentimental! I thought you were against weddings?”

“I still am, don’t worry. Planning to fully cleanse myself of the wedding cooties after the ceremony is over and I’m back to hunting for my next victim,” he jested, smiling to himself.

His mother gasped. “One day, you’re going to swallow those words when you’ve blinked and realized you’ve gotten yourself ‘leg shackled,’ as your father calls it.”

Jack sighed. “Was there a point to this phone call, Mom? I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Oh, I see how much I mean to you,” she replied. “I just wanted to make sure you’re coming down for your father’s birthday on the fourteenth. You know the whole family’s coming over to celebrate, and he would love to see you since you didn’t make it for Fourth of July.”

“Mom, you know I was busy taking care of my transfer papers and my move here. Planning a wedding is hard stuff,” Jack started. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you guys in about two weeks. I already have my plane ticket,” he said, searching online for a flight to Maine. He tended to procrastinate quite a bit.

“We’ll be waiting for you at the airport to pick you up. There’s also a surprise waiting for you,” she added.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“More like a who, but no matter. You’ll find out when you get here. Make sure you get that plane ticket soon, or your father won’t be happy with you bailing on his birthday, too,” his mom replied.

“All right, Mom. Bye.” He hung up the phone before she could think of something else to say. Jack then made the payment for the flight before he changed his mind.