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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Saturday, June 26
I standin a dress shop on New York’s Fifth Avenue. My gorgeous long-haired lion gawks at me while sales ladies offer us espressos and champagne. I try on my fourth dress, but they’re all magnificent.
“You’re gorgeous, Lainey Bird,” Connor says, and I swear, he’s drooling. The dress I have on is navy blue with spaghetti straps and a low draped neckline that falls damn near to my ass in the back. There’s a slit up one leg that stops three inches above my knee. It hugs my body so close I can barely breathe.
“I like it. How much is it?” I twist to see if I can decipher the numbers on the tag that’s been tucked in under my arm.
“Who cares?” Connor says, waggling an eyebrow. “You’ve got to have it.” He leans forward in the chair he’s been holding down for the last half hour and licks his lips. I swear, my Inner Sex Goddess just purred. No, she roared!
“Oh, my God! Raven Flynn, is that you?” A high-pitched female voice calls from the door of the dressing room. When I turn around, Presley Templeton, one of the viola players from the orchestra — and one of the only women I could have truly considered a friend — waves to me.
“Itisyou! Oh, my God, it’s so good to see you. You just fell off the face of the earth, what like five, six years ago.” She hugs me tight and then holds me at arm’s length to get a good look.
“Jesus, you look amazing. What have you been doing?”
I smile and motion to Connor standing behind her. “Traveling. I’m just in town for a couple of days. We’re passing through on our way to Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Well, hello, sexy and stunning.” She takes a moment to lick her lips and look Connor up and down. “And just what might you be called?” Presley was always a hopeless flirt. I shake my head amused that some things never change.
Connor stands and extends a hand. “Connor, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine from my Philharmonic days. This is Presley Templeton. Viola. Pres, this is Connor Rose, my boyfriend.”
Connor casts a quick glance and an easy smile at me, seemingly approving of the title.
“Connor, is it?” She shakes his hand and offers him an overtly flirtatious smile before turning back to me and winking. She mouths the words, “h-o-l-y s-h-i-t!” And then fans her neck with her hand.Yeah, hot and mine, I think to myself, grinning.
“You’re a far cry from that bastard, Jemmy, I must say,” she says, looking back over her shoulder at Connor. He instantly tenses at the mention of the man’s name. It’s like he wants to beat the idea and memory of him with his fists if he can’t get them around the actual man.
“Is … is he still playing with you all?” I ask reluctantly. My voice shakes. I let Connor talk me into attending the concert, but I’m still terrified he’ll be there. I’m unsure what I’ll do if I actually see him there.
“Hell no! You know he slept around, right. Well, he used to tell his conquests he would blackball them from professional orchestras if they didn’t sleep with him. Prick. Well, he picked the wrong girl — the conductor’s granddaughter. Practically raped her on their first date. Big mistake. Jemmy got tossed out on his ear. He played for the Russian ballet for a season, but tried his little stunt with one of the girls there, and they deported him. I’d be surprised if he could get a gig playing for a bar mitzvah. Last I heard, he teaches junior high school band back home somewhere in Iowa or something. Loser.” Presley makes an “L” with her thumb and forefinger and taps her forehead.
“Really?” I shouldn’t ever be glad about anyone’s misfortune, but I’ll be honest, knowing he is reaping what he’s sown is freaking great. For a split second, I regret it couldn’t have been me who started him on his path to ruin, but I let that go in exchange for an inner celebration of his utter humiliation. No one deserves it more. Miss Insecure and Miss Adventure officially hang streamers. I wink at Connor and smile widely. We are going to a concert.
Of course, I buy the dress. Connor insists on shoes, a wrap, a matching sparkly clutch and some gorgeous earrings. After lunch, at my favorite hot dog cart, we hit the computer store to check out some new wireless headphones he’s been hoping to find for Ginger’s birthday. While I wait for him to look around, I watch a demonstration of on one of the latest tablets. I’m drawn to the salesperson’s electronic magic show, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m slapping my credit card on the counter for hundreds of dollars’ worth of the first gift I’m ever going to give my boyfriend.
* * *
“I got you something while we were out shopping today,” I say. I hold the flat box close to my back trying to hide it. I’m so nervous to give this gift to Connor, and I can’t explain why.
“You bought me a present?” Connor seems a bit surprised by this.
“I did. I … I’m not sure if you have one, you probably already do, and this was probably just a stupid idea, but I saw it today, and it just make me think of you and …”
I’m rambling. Connor’s warm grin stops me dead in my tracks. He pushes back his long, gorgeous hair. “Do I get to see it, baby?”
I slowly hand Connor the box. He pulls the bright silver paper and white satin ribbon off and lifts the lid. My heart pounds. I am so worried he won’t like it. Miss Insecure is back, chiding me for spending so much money on something he probably already has. He’ll think it’s dumb.
He peers down at the slick black rectangle and smiles. Hitting the lone button on the bottom, he brings the tablet to life, broadly admiring the sleek thin lines of the device.
“You got me an iPad?” His eyes dance with excitement. I let out a breath.
“Yes, well, there’s this app on here,” I say, touching the small icon that opens up a drawing program on the touchscreen. “And you can create artwork and sketch with it. There’s more in the box. There’s this special pencil thing that you use to sketch on it.”
Connor presses the stylus against the slick glass of the tablet and watches as a broken graphite line streaks across the page.
“Whoa, that’s so cool.” He mimics the action again, crisscrossing line after line.
