Tony had had no other thought in his head for the last half hour but the idea of getting lucky with his shrink. It was an idea that had kept him awake nights many times in the last twelve years. But not until this moment did it dawn on him that tonight he truly had a shot. A long shot, maybe. He knew the signs well enough to know the lady was conflicted. But a shot nonetheless.
"Don't blow this, Ton'," he thought.
He got up from the counter and followed Dr. Melfi. She looked over her shoulder once and smiled at him. He watched her walk from behind. Her curvy hips and curvier ass swayed subtly.
As they exited the bar and entered the dim hotel hallway en route to the elevator, Dr. Melfi's heel came up against the edge of the thick carpet and she stumbled. In one stride, Tony closed the distance between them. He reached across her back and put a gentle, supporting hand on her elbow.
They walked to the elevator. Once inside, Tony let go. He felt enormous in the enclosed metal space. His palms were sweating.
"What floor?" he asked.
"Eight."
"My lucky number." Jesus, what was he talking about? He didn't even have a lucky number. "Get it together," he coached himself under his breath.
They were standing so close together. He knew he should be making a move, but he was stuck. What had always seemed natural before, with any other woman, now seemed nuts. What was he supposed to do, grab her? Pull her in for a kiss? Suppose she brushed him off? What then? He watched the little circle of orange light near the ceiling move from the number two to three to four.
"Shit," she said suddenly.
"What?"
"My earring." She tugged her earlobe. "It must have fallen off."
"So we'll go look for it."
"Nah. Forget it," she said.
The elevator wavered, and then came to a gentle halt. The doors opened, and they stepped into another hallway, lit by sconces.
"What's it look like?" Tony said. "The, uh, thing. The earring." He gestured toward her ear.
"It looks like the other one, silly," Dr. Melfi said, her hand going automatically to her other earlobe.
Without thinking, Tony reached out and brushed the fingers of her hand with his. He cupped her ear in his hand and nudged the lobe forward so he could see the earring. He leaned in. It was a dainty thing, silver on one side and gold on the other. Then, because his hand was already there, he stroked her cheek. She gave a little sound that might have been a sigh or a hum. He tilted her face upward and kissed her. Then he reached out and removed her glasses. He didn't feel shy now. Not in the least. Tony Soprano had never in his life kissed anyone shyly.
The last time Tony had kissed her, Melfi had very nearly lost control. She had stopped him in time with an insistent, tight-lipped "Don't do that."
Last time, she had reined in her physical impulses by force of will. This time, the rational being caved even before she felt her body start to surrender.
"Don't kid yourself, Jen," she thought. "You knew what you were doing from the second you took that seat next to him at the bar. You're doing this for all the wrong reasons, but what the Hell? You're doing it."
Her internal struggle over, she devoted her attention to kissing him back. He was pushing her up against the wall, and she was hanging onto the lapels of his sport coat. The material felt expensive.
After a few breathless minutes, the elevator dinged and the door opened again. A fastidiously dressed man with a brief case got out and gave them an offended look. Something about him – his glasses, probably – reminded Melfi of her therapist, Elliot, and she broke away from Tony and started to giggle.
"What's funny?" Tony asked, grinning and chucking her under the chin.
She shook her head, and started digging around in her purse for her key card.
Tony started planting a row of little plucking kisses along her jawline.
"Stop it, Anthony. Stop distracting me," she said, not meaning it even a little. "Here it is." She held up the key card. "It's…" she squinted and searched in the air with her finger "… that one. 807." She pulled him by his shirt sleeve toward the right door and slid the card into its slot.
She jiggled the door handle, swore, and tried the card again. The door clicked, the handle gave, and they barged into the room.