My phone is glued to my hand. It's pathetic really. Every time it rings or a text comes in, I can't help but hope it will be from him. Who am I kidding? He's in New York City on a Saturday night. He's probably enjoying the nightlife with some gorgeous woman on his arm. There's that word again. I doubt he's sitting alone in his hotel room thinking of something cute to text me.
But if he were...
He might say something like, "Wish you were here." Well, maybe that's a stretch. He might ask what I'm up to though. That's not so far out of the realm of possibilities. What would I tell him? Sitting here hoping you'd pay attention to me. That won't do. What am I doing? It's my first week in a new city and I'm laying in bed waiting for the phone to ring? Get it together Kate!
It's not even 9:00pm and I was considering getting into my pajamas. Kate, you're 27 not 87. Right!
I slide off the bed and head toward the walk in closet just off the en suite. Carter has been busy. Everything is so organized and accessible.
"Hey Carter?" I call out. Can he hear me from up here?
"What's up?" comes the faint response.
"Let's go out." Part of me hopes he wants to stay in, no one could blame me for not going out alone.
"Give me five minutes to get ready." Damn.
I decide to retire my uniform of late and wear something other than jeans for a change. I pull a denim skirt from the hanger and toss it on the bed. Wait, I just decided - no jeans. Okay, I have a little black mini that goes with almost everything. It toss it beside the denim skirt and move on to choose a top. I don't really own anything terribly sexy, but I guess who said I had to dress sleazy to look nice? Rummaging through my closet is hell. It's decided, I hate all my clothes. Why do I own a hot pink tube top? Seriously, how did that get in here? I toss it on the bed, not because it's an option, but because it has no place among my other garments.
"Uh, no." Carter startles me.
"I'm not wearing it, I'm getting rid of it!"
"Here, let me." He steps into my closet and quickly pulls a folded grey sweater from the shelf and a pair of kelly green flats. He moves to the drawers and pulls out a lacy black bra, maybe we're too close, and hands me the pile of clothes. "These with the black skirt." And with that, Carter leaves me to it.
I pull on the skirt, it's a little shorter than I remember, but I run everyday, so frankly, my legs look pretty good. Next I put on the fancy bra. Something about wearing nice underwear just makes you feel pretty. Even if no one is going to see it. Especially if no one is going to see it. It's like keeping a little secret to yourself. And your assistant. Yes, I suppose it's not much of a secret. I pull on the grey sweater, slip on the flats and take a look in the mirror.
Okay, he should dress me everyday. Why don't I wear this more often? Because you didn't know how to put it together?. Right.
We drive down the main strip looking for a parking spot. It's springtime, so the evening is cool, but not cold. We really could have walked here, but Carter is kind of a wimp about weather. He never lets me forget what I put him through with the Canadian winter. I decide to shut up and let him lead the way.
After what seems like months of circling the block, Carter's wish is granted and a spot opens up. "Finally," he sighs. I couldn't agree more.
We walk into Sharp Edge Bistro and it's a sea of black and gold jerseys. "Way too busy, let's go somewhere else," I plead with Carter, but he's either ignoring me or can't hear me above the noise. A hostess greets us and she and Carter lean toward each other, obviously discussing if there is space for two more. I hope not! She grabs two menus and motions for us to follow her. The crowd is a mix of people glued to the TVs, cheering loudly, booing occasionally, and drinking profusely, and small clusters of people socializing at tables throughout the restaurant.
We're seated at a table near the back next to a group of four men who are casually monitoring the television while nursing their beers. I would put them all in their early 30's, well-dressed, two of them with wedding bands, two without. Of the two unattached men, one is happily chatting with his friends while the other glances around the bar checking out anything in a skirt. You're in a skirt. Shit.
The hostess gives us a minute to look over the menu. There's not a lot of food listed, actually the menu reads more like a beer catalog. When in Rome I guess. I settle on the Bavik Pilsner. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but somehow ordering wine just feels wrong. Carter is the adventurous type and decides he's going to order the "Mystery Brew".
"So this is why you wanted to go out, hey?" Carter nudges me playfully and glances at the television. I turn look over and see a mousey-haired man in a suit screaming at bench of hockey players in blue helmets. Of course, he's out of town for a game!
"I swear I had no idea." This is embarrassing. Everyone in the bar is here to watch the hockey game and I was sitting at home waiting for him to text me. "Do you see him?" I try to sound casual, but Carter knows me too well.
"First off, that's the other team." He laughs loudly and my cheeks burn. I have a lot to learn.
The waitress returns to take our order. Carter hasn't stopped laughing yet, so I order for us both. I hope the "Mystery Brew" is toilet water.
"That's him." I look up and he's right. There he is, looking hyper-focused, sweaty, and somehow handsome all at once. He makes skating look easy, but I've tried and know it's not. He kicks the puck forward with his feet and takes off down the ice. Is that allowed? I guess so because everyone is cheering. He doesn't shoot like I expect him to, he passes and the other player shoots. And scores.
The place erupts in cheers, high-fives, even hugging. I'm trying to disguise the look of delight on my face, but it's impossible. Not bad, he says. Ha! For the first time I notice how many people are wearing his jersey. I feel my phone buzz in my purse and for a fleeting second I wonder...uh, Earth to Kate. You're watching him RIGHT NOW! It's a text from my sister asking if I'm settled in yet. I type a quick reply and put my phone away. I should really call her, and my parents. It's just that every time I talk to them they make me feel so...fragile. I'm tired of feeling like I'll break at the first sign of trouble.
Our drinks are place in front of us, and Carter looks me over. "Invite her to come visit for a weekend." He knows how strained my relationships are right now.
"But then I'd have to spend a weekend with her," I try to make it sound like a joke, but it comes out harsher than I intended. "She'd never take me up on it anyway."
"She might. I think they just worry about you," he offers gently. "You should let them see you like this Kate. You're back writing, you're about to start filming a new series, you might be sort-of-kind-of-maybe dating," he lowers his voice for dramatic effect, "the Captain of the Penguins."
Captain? News to me.
"Spilled iced tea and a few texts is hardly dating," I counter. If only it were that easy!
"I'm just saying, you're back on track."
"Back on track to do what?" We're both taken aback by the brashness of the man now standing at our table, clearly waiting for an invitation to join us. There's an awkward pause and he takes it upon himself to sit beside me.
"Fantasy hockey pool," Carter chimes in quickly. What the hell?
"I like a woman who knows her sports!" The stranger helps himself to a few of Carter's nachos and I can barely contain myself when I see the look of absolute horror on my poor assistant's face. "So are you two, what, like brother and sister?" He stuffs his gob and stares at us.
Carter slowly pushes the plate of nachos toward him with disgust.
"Are you serious?" I ask genuinely. How can he possibly think we're related?
"Well I know you're not dating." We have a real genius on our hand here folks.
"We work together," I reply curtly hoping he'll get the hint and leave.
"Oh yeah? Where d'you two work?" He pulls the food closer to himself and barely looks as he digs into the free meal.
Carter rolls his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer. "We're teachers," he offers lamely. Yeah, people would believe that. Just when I think the sleazeball is going to put his arm around I look up to see another stranger stepping toward our table. He's one of the four men sitting at the table next to ours.
"Looks like you guys ordered without me." He sits next to me and hugs me into him. What the hell is with guys from Pittsburgh? "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" He's talking to the weirdo on my other side.
"It's Jeff. Hey man, I didn't know she was here with anyone, she didn't say." Jeff stands to leave, and I'm relieved. I guess Jeff wasn't as inconspicuous as he thought.
"Thanks, you didn't need to do that, but I'm glad you did." I should at least offer to buy him a beer.
"Not a problem. I saw him making the rounds earlier. Seems harmless enough, though you might not want to finish those." He points at Carter's destroyed plate of food.
"Yeah, don't worry about that," Carter chimes in. "I'm Carter, this is Kate."
He nods in each of our directions. "Ray. So nice to meet you both, I'll let you enjoy the rest of your evening."
And with that Ray heads back to his table.
"When it rains it pours, hey Katie?"
Huh? I'm sure I look as confused as I feel.
"He was hitting on you!" Carter smiles widely and carefully scopes out Ray's table.
"He was being nice."
"Okay. If you say so."
We both turn back to the hockey game only to find that it has ended in our absence. Hmm, I should probably at least watch his games if I'm going to...to what? I still don't really know what this is. Is it anything? No, not yet. I've never been good with surprises. I've never been patient. I over think everything. Everything. That's always been my downfall. Not being able to let go and enjoy the ride.
The server is back with a fresh round of drinks and a new plate of nachos for Carter. "These are from the four men at the next table."
I look up and Ray offers a polite wave. I smile back and tip my drink in gratitude.
A few beers later, we've pushed together our tables and have joined Ray and his buddies. They're all thoroughly enjoying giving Carter a hard time about his hair, and I'm loving every minute of it.
"So Ray, what do you do for a living?" I practically have to shout across the table.
"I'm an architect." He takes a swig of his beer and flashes me a goofy grin.
"Are you really or is that something you just say to impress people?" Stop drinking Kate! I sound like a total jerk! He takes it well and laughs it off.
"No, I really am an architect. What about you?" He passes me his business card as evidence.
"I don't have a business card." I tease, but he just nods his head. Did he not hear me? "I said, I don't have a business card."
He laughs and nods. "I heard you, I just didn't want to press it in case that was code for unemployed."
"How considerate of you." I focus back to my drink, not noticing Carter trying to fight off two men who desperately want to touch his hair.
"Well it's been fun, but Kate and I have to get going." Carter grabs my wrist and pulls me to my feet. Hey!
"Looks like we're leaving," I say lamely to Ray.
"Well you know where to find me," he points to his card.
"Take is easy guys." Carter pushes me toward the bar to settle the bill.
I hand the bartender my Visa and point toward the table we just vacated. Sure they sent over the drinks, but I can afford to pay the tab. While I wait I spot a huge jar filled with business cards. Apparently you an win free lunch for a week. Without thinking I reach into my pocket and drop Ray's business card in with the others. Who knows, maybe I'll bring him good luck?
