Page 22 of You Spin Me

“Can I plead the fifth on that?”

“Mm-hmm. Soap opera people, then. Which show could it be? Hang on. I’m grabbing myTV Guide.”

“It wasAll My Children, okay? I used to watch the soaps with my mom.”

“Aww.” Very cute. As long as he’s not still living with his mom. That would be problematic.

“She called them her stories.”

“Weren’t you in school when that was on?”

“I was home sick a lot.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I think I’ve pushed far enough. “One more:LassieorMr. Rogers?”

“DefinitelyMr. Rogers.Lassiewas too scary.”

“It was for me too, but I love dogs, so I’d make my sister watch with me. You were a sensitive little guy, huh?”

“I guess I was.”

“I love that. I’d like to see a picture of you as a little kid.” Even though talking like this is cozy, my brain still craves an image to go with the voice.

“Yeah, there aren’t many of those.” Something beeps in the background. “Listen, I should go. But thanks for talking to me instead of watchingThirtysomething.”

“You’re welcome. You’re better than TV friends.”

“Good night, Jess.”

“Good night, Cal.”

I totally forgot to stretch after class I was in such a hurry to call Cal, so I’m a bit stiff as I get to my feet to hang up the phone. Carefully lifting my leg to the barre, I try to picture him. A guy with a voice that masculine and sexy has to be good-looking, right?

But what if he isn’t? Am I that shallow? Ticking through an imaginary slideshow of all the guys I’ve ever gone out with, I have to conclude that I am.

Not to mention that my vanity has me doing everything within my power to enhance my good bits and hide the bad. So much about attraction has to do with appearance. Right?

Could I fall for a guy who isn’t handsome? I’m attracted to Cal when we talk, but what if we met and one, or both, of us were disappointed in what we see?

What would we do then?

CAL

Wednesday morning a phone call from the PR guy for Why Not Happiness wakes me up at nine a.m. Though I’m barely awake, I manage to take in the information. Their tour schedule is tight. They don’t get into Boston until right before sound check, but lead singer Joe can talk to me on the phone before they get on the bus. In less than an hour. It’ll be an exclusive, so I make myself say yes.

An hour is not much time to get ready. I take Blondie out to pee, shower as fast as I can and haul my ass to the station. I find an engineer to set me up to record the phone call, and I manage to scribble a few questions on a piece of paper before it comes in.

“Hey, Joe, thanks for taking the time to call.”

“Sure, man. Uh, like we don’t have a lot of time, but yeah, like, thanks for, uh… promoting the tour.”

“Happy to do it. How’s it going so far?”

“Good. Yeah. Good.”

“Good. Great.”

“So, uh…” I scan my notes. My questions all seem pretty lame. But we can’t have dead air. Hopefully, this can be edited.

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