Page 37 of Lessons in Love
Hard. I almost say it but I’m losing my enthusiasm for the quick comebacks.Am I losing my mojo?Virginia slaps the table. “Oh my God, am I that boring?” She’s laughing, but I can see the offense on her face.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m distracted today.”
“I’d say so. What’s on your mind? You can talk to me.”
“Not about this.”
Her mouth scrunches to the side. “Penis problems?”
Now I’m offended. “No. I don’t have penis problems. Damn woman, go for the low blow why don’t you?”
We both laugh and say, “Low blow.” She adds, “Do you like that?”
The laughter lightens, and I reply, “A blow job? I’m a guy. Of course I like blow jobs.”
“I tried to give a blow job?—”
“Do I really want to hear about you blowing some guy?”
Sitting back, she’s still full of giggles, and entirely too hot looking while doing it with her breasts bouncing against the silk of her shirt. “Oh come on. You’re my teacher. If I can’t talk to you, I have no one to get advice from.”
“Don’t you have girlfriends who like to talk about their conquests?”
“No.” The laughter ceases altogether and I already miss the sound. “Other than Katie O’Dowd?—”
I tap my glass on the table. “To Katie O’Dowd.”
We clink our pints together and she continues, “My friends are just as helpless as me when it comes to finding love in the city.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’re not meant to find love in Manhattan.”
Her brow creases in the center, and she asks, “And where prey tell do you suggest I find it then?”
Brooklyn. Across the table from you. You’re staring at him. “I don’t know, but maybe love doesn’t come in the form of Lowry Renquist, lawyer extraordinaire, but comes in the form of something more obvious, something right before your eyes but you’re too blind to see.”
“Speaking of low blows . . .”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I know how you feel about Lowry. You’ve been very sweet to me. You’re looking out for my best interest and you make a valid point. I need to open my eyes and look around. There are plenty of other guys out there.”
The food arrives, and she pushes the basket between us. “Wanna share?”
Everything with you.“Thanks.”
Our time together is disappearing and when she stands, I happily help her put her coat back on. She reaches for her bag and when she stands back up and turns, we’re toe-to-toe.Resting her hands on my chest, she asks, “Why is it so easy with you?”
Easy? Interesting. The woman before me is anything but easy. “I’ve been thinking. What if?—”
“Hardy Richard.”
No. No. No. No. No.I know that voice. Too well.No. No. No. No. No.Please don’t let it be her. Following Virginia’s gaze, it’s her and my heart sinks.
“Hardy. Yoohoo.”
“Hello, Isabella.”
With both her hands on my biceps, she comes in for the two-cheek kiss. I don’t bother with either when our faces touch. Stepping back, she looks me over from head to toe and back again. “You’re looking well. So casual in your flannel and jeans.” Her voice is condescending, her remarks belittling dressed in fake appreciation.
