Page 48 of Man Hands
I’m in the middle of a fairy tale. Usually at this hour I’m curled up on the sofa eating cheese nips and looking at cookbooks, all while lamenting my lack of a teaching job in September. But today? Today, first class, a beautiful ring, champagne, New York…Tom. This can’t be real! It’s too great tobereal!
And, of course, it’snotreal.
This was such astupididea.
Why did I agree to this? How is this going to fix anything? No one is going to care that we’re engaged. The schools I’m applying to won’t even notice. All they’ll see is Naked Writing Professor, which, honestly, shouldn’t be too surprising because writing teachers are always a little bithippy-ish.
Part of my brain is like,Take an antidepressant, and the other part is like,Just shut up and enjoy thisweekend.
I don’t know which part tolistento.
When the plane lands, and I loosen my death grip on Tom’s leg—fear of flying anyone?—we’re the first ones down the jetway. As soon as we disembark, there are people pointing iPhones and cameras at us. Before I can even process how reporters got past security, Tom gives me a little tug and shows me his phone. It’s vibratingmaniacally.
Then I look at my phone and there are so many tweets and shares of his ring post that I just keep scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. “What the fuck?” Ibreathe.
“Told you I’d fix it,” he says, allproud.
I look at him with a little bit of awe, and by awe, I mean with my jaw hanging wide open and my eyes all huge and possessed…and that’s the picture that lands on the gossip page of theNewYorkPost.
28Svenka &Torvold
Brynn
Ithoughtthat my first-class seat on the jet was fancy. As it turns out, the plane ride was just the hors d’oeuvre. When Tom opens the door to the main course—our suite at the Mandarin Hotel in Columbus Circle—Iliterallygasp.
“Wow,” Tom say. “It’sso—”
“Beautiful!” I say at precisely the same moment Tom says “hideous.”
“But…” In the living room, I practically sink into the custom circular rug underfoot. The decor is severely modern—curved walls in grays and purples, with silver flourishes. The sofa isn’t just a sofa. It’s most of the circle. And, fine, it does resemble something I’d expect to find on aspaceship.
That doesn’t dim the appeal of this room, though. The view is spectacular. All of Central Park is laid out before us. And tonight the buildings surrounding the great green rectangle will light up in every direction. I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and try to take itallin.
Behind me, Tom carries our bags through to the bedroom. When I follow him, I find another stunning view in two directions. And the bathroom! It’s enormous and has more gizmos than a bathroom needs. “Tom! There’s a TV screen embedded in the mirror. Just in case you really need to poop during those final minutes of the big game.” Igiggle.
And when I gallop back into the bedroom Tom follows me with dancing eyes. “I’m glad you’re impressed.” He nudges me out of the bedroom towards the oddly shaped sofa. I sit down and he drops down beside me, pulling me in, kissing me on the eyebrow. “You are fun. But that light fixture looks like something from planetNaboo.”
“But that’s just it,” I say, climbing aboard his lap to straddle his great muscular thighs. “That’s why it’s excellent. We’re never going to live here. But we get to visit this planet as forty-eight hour guests, and be fabulous in an entirelyfakeway.”
Heck, I could be talking about our relationship or the hotel. Takeyourpick.
“This room is for…” I pause to think of the right names. “Svenka and Torvald. They have a TV in their bathroom mirror at home, and an espresso maker in that shadeofpuce.”
“Oh, baby.” His expression softens, and I feel like I’ve just won the lottery. The way he looks at me turns metogoo.
“What?” Ibreathe.
“Ilovethat you know thecolorpuce.”
We kiss again, and he grins against my mouth. “Okay. You’re right. This is fun. But I have trouble walking into a room without mentallyrenovatingit.”
“Take the night off,Torvald.”
“I’ll try.” He puts one thick finger in the V of my wrap dress. “But I have to draw the line somewhere. If I try to do you on a circular couch, we’ll both end up with curvature of thespine.”
It would probably be worth it. Nobody has ever spoken to me like Tom does. Like I’m sexy.If I do you. He makes it sound socasual.
I want tobedone.
