Blogger Girl (31 page)

Feeling my whole body freeze, I punched him lightly in the arm. “No!” I wasn’t ready yet.

Rob shrugged. “Okay. But I’m not leaving until you get up on that stage.”

Groaning inwardly, I mumbled. “No worries.”

After the girls finished singing, I walked over to the DJ as discreetly as possible and looked through the song book. After I confirmed that my song was there, I filled out a song request form and handed it to the DJ, a long-haired guy who looked to be about my age and probably never heard of the song.

Wearing black jeans with holes in both knees and dark chest hair peeking out of a very worn T-shirt, he looked at the form and back at me. One eyebrow cocked, he said, “Interesting song choice.”

Not surprised by his reaction, I smirked. “Yeah, I bet it’s not that popular among twenty-something Upper East Siders.”

Smiling at me, he said, “You’d be surprised by some of the song choices of yuppies. But I don’t think I’ve actually seen this particular song done before.”

“Well, unless I chicken out, tonight might be your lucky night.”

“Looking forward to it.” Scanning the form again, he said, “Break a leg, Lil’ Kim.”

“Thanks!” I started to walk away but thought better of it. “Er, about how many performances before mine?”

I chewed my lower lip as I observed him count the forms until he looked back at me and said, “Six.”

I took a deep breath. If my heart beat any faster, I was afraid it would jump out of my chest and knock the poor guy over. Sneaking away to the bathroom, I chanted,
“I can do this. I can do this.”

Squatting over the toilet bowl, I texted Bridget. “Just gave the DJ my song choice. I think I’m gonna have a heart attack.” I contemplated staying in the bathroom until my name was called until I heard a knock at the door.
Damn dive bars with single stall women’s bathrooms!
I called out, “Almost done!” ran my hands through my hair and blotted my lips with some more gloss as I reminded myself of Caroline’s words. “Pretend you’re a heroine in a chick lit book.” Bridget Jones would totally do this. She’d make a complete ass out of herself but she’d do it and she’d get the guy. And I, Kimberly Michelle Long, would also get the guy!

With somewhat renewed confidence I prayed would not betray me in the twenty-third hour, I walked out of the bathroom and smiled at the firm’s real estate paralegal, Ellen, who I had met on exactly one occasion and who would now be witness to what might turn out to be the most humiliating night of my life. Or the most romantic, I thought as I remembered how Caroline’s face lit up when she encouraged me to go for it.

I was standing in the back pretending to listen to the performance on stage, a rowdy rendition of
Living on a Prayer
when my phone beeped. Bridget.

“You can do this!” Since she knew me better than anyone, I wasn’t surprised she used the same words of encouragement I had used on myself.

I texted back, “From your lips! Wish you were here for some in-person moral support
“ and put the phone back in my pocketbook.

I was torn between wanting to get the damn thing over with and wishing the performances ahead of mine would go on indefinitely but when I saw the DJ grab the microphone from the guys in collections who sang
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
and search the crowd, I immediately knew he was looking for me. I slowly walked closer to the stage and waited.

Spotting me, he said, “There she is! Come on up Kim. Singing
Don’t it Make my Brown Eyes Blue
by Crystal Gayle is your very own Lil’ Kim!”

The crowd all looked left and right as if expecting to see the real Lil’ Kim but as I approached the stage, the chuckling started as everyone got the joke.

The DJ handed me the mic, winked and said, “Break a leg!”

I felt my body shaking in fear as I took the microphone and faced the crowd. I saw Rob first and he gave me the thumbs up sign. David smiled wide at me. And then Lucy clapped her hands together, “Yay, Kim!” I saw the smiling faces of almost everyone in the Squad as well as a scowling Daneen but I didn’t see Nicholas anywhere. I panicked that he had left or was in the bathroom until I spotted him and panicked some more. And then suddenly, from the back of the room, I heard, “Knock ‘em dead, Kimmie!” and a loud whistle and saw Bridget and Jonathan in the back of the room clapping their hands in encouragement. I spied Nicholas turn to face them and look back at me in confusion as I mouthed, “thank you” to Bridget and Jonathan.
I was ready.

SPEAKING SOFTLY INTO THE MICROPHONE,
I looked directly at Nicholas and said in the most unshaky voice I could muster under the circumstances, “This one’s for you, Nicholas,” and without awaiting his reaction, motioned for the DJ to start the song.

As the first few notes played, I took a deep breath in the acknowledgment that by the time I left the stage, it would all be over, and started singing, “
Don’t know when I’ve been so blue. Don’t know what’s come over you.”
Even though every molecule in my body was begging me to look elsewhere, I kept my gaze on Nicholas. His expression gave away nothing except perhaps shock. And maybe a little embarrassment
.
But I carried on. I had to.
“I’ll be fine when you’re gone. I’ll just cry all night long.”
The room was spookily quiet, yet I couldn’t hear a word that was coming out of my mouth.
“I didn’t mean to treat you bad. Didn’t know just what I had. But honey now I do.”
Nicholas was still staring at me, his mouth slightly open in a half smile. Although the half smile might have been wishful thinking on my part. Did he even know who Crystal Gayle was? He’d never mentioned a love of country music, certainly not country music from the 1970s.
“And don’t it make my brown eyes blue.”

When singing directly to a practically stone-faced Nicholas became unbearable and I needed to connect with someone more encouraging, I shifted my gaze to the back of the room where Bridget stood with Jonathan. They smiled at me and Bridget gave the thumbs up sign and mouthed “awesome,” offering the positive reinforcement I craved. I could tell from Bridget’s expression that she meant it since she had a horrible poker face. As the song began inching towards a close – at last - I raised my voice in the knowledge that the worst was over and there was no going back. Smiling down at Rob and David, I sang the chorus,
“Don’t it make my brown eyes. Don’t it make my brown eyes.”
Pumping his fists in the air, Rob joined me singing,
“Don’t it make my brown eyes blue!”
until little by little more people joined in, chanting,
“Don’t it make my browns eyes. Don’t it make my brown eyes.”
As my solo turned into a sing-a-long, I almost forgot why I was up there and enthusiastically finished the song. When I was done, relief washed over me and I took a proud bow as my co-workers gave me a rambunctious round of applause. And then I remembered that the song was over, but my performance wasn’t.

My smile instantly faded as I turned to face Nicholas, fearing he was not the slightest bit moved by my grand gesture. As I walked toward him, praying my shaking legs would not fail me, I noticed that most of the room was taking turns looking from me to him in fascination. Since we’d never made our relationship public, I appreciated their confusion as to why I dedicated a love song to him, but I tried my best to tune them out.

“You rock!” said Lucy. “Must toast your performance with a shot.”

“Um, sounds good. Maybe later!” I responded as I continued on my way.

“Nice job, Long!” Rob said, slapping me on the back as I walked past him.

“Thanks,” I said without looking at him.

Blocking my path, David said, “I had no idea you could sing!”

I looked past his head at Nicholas. He was mere inches away but I feared it would take me an hour to reach him if people kept stopping me.

Trying to find that fine line between nipping the conversation in the bud and being rude, I smiled at David and said, “I have many talents!” and kept walking before he could respond.

Finally, I stood before Nicholas with only a wall of tension between us.

HERE GOES NOTHING.

I clasped my hands behind my back and looked up at him. Smiling shyly I said, “So… that was scary.”

Nodding, Nicholas gave me a closed-mouth smile. “I’m sure.”

I waited a beat for him to say something else but when he didn’t, I realized he wasn’t going to make this easy for me and I let out a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m assuming my song got the point across but just in case you missed it, my brown eyes have been blue since you slammed my door and walked out. I really messed up, Nicholas. But…” I looked down at the dirty floor for a second. Swallowing hard, I looked back at up at him and I said, “I’m sorry. I still really like you. I mean,
really
like you. The things I said…” I shrugged. “Well, most of them were because of my own insecurity. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Can we try this again or is it too late? Do you hate me?” I stopped talking and took what felt like my first breath in days.

Nicholas continued to stare at me but didn’t say anything. I swallowed hard again, trying to read his mind.
Say something!

Finally he spoke. “I don’t hate you, Kim.” He frowned and shifted his eyes to the ground but quickly back at up at me. “I actually think you’re pretty amazing. Despite the fact that you never seemed to think of yourself that way
or
recognize that I felt that way about you. I did. I do.” Scratching his head, he said, “I even wondered what you saw in me – a workaholic, boring attorney.”

I whispered, “You’re the whole pack…”

Nicholas raised his hand to stop me. “Please, Kim. Let me finish.”

Taken aback, I said, “Sorry. Go on.”

“As I was saying, I think you’re pretty terrific. You made me angry but in hindsight I could see how my actions could be misconstrued.”

I smiled. My pulse was still racing uncontrollably but we were off to a good start.

Nicholas continued, “But trying again? I don’t know. Things are different now.”

“Different how?” I noted the crack in my voice and silently cursed my inner pubescent boy. Was he seeing someone else already?

“When we dated before, you were just Rob’s assistant and part-time blogger. Now that you’re giving this writing thing a go, I’m not sure it could work.” He shrugged.

My jaw dropped. “What? You’re the one who encouraged me to write!”

Nicholas raised his palms in the air. “It might be too much for me. Between working for Rob, your blog and this new writing venture, I just don’t see how you’d have room for me in your life and I think I might need a girlfriend who’s well, less ambitious.”

I balled my hands into fists as anger consumed me. “You must be fucking kidding me!”

Nicholas looked from side to side awkwardly, turned back and gave me an apologetic frown.

I felt Bridget’s presence behind me but knew if I turned around, I would break out into tears. It was one thing to cry
over
Nicholas but crying in front of him was an entirely different animal. I might have actually been too angry to cry. “Unfucking believable,” I said looking at him in disbelief. “You must be kidding me,” I repeated. Caroline and Bridget had promised that Nicholas still liked me. This was nothing like the end of
Bridget Jones’s Diary
.

I squeezed my eyes holding back the tears and forced myself to face Nicholas one more time. “Okay, then.”

Nicholas shook his head and slowly smiled. “Yes, Kimmie. I’m kidding you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist.” Inching closer to me, he took one of my hands in his and looking deep into my eyes said, “The truth is my brown eyes have been seriously blue too. I’m crazy about you.”

Still too angry to digest the magnitude of what he’d just said, I removed my hand from his and punched him in the arm, “You suck!”

Grabbing me to him, Nicholas kissed me hard until I felt my legs practically float off the ground. Releasing me, he said, “Yup. Take me or leave me.”

Gazing up at him, I stood on my tippy toes and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I’ll take you,” I whispered in his ear. Placing my lips softly against his, I kissed him again. I didn’t care that practically the entire firm was watching us in a drunken stupor. When I pulled away, I touched my fingers to his freshly shaved jaw and whispered, “You look so clean cut.”

Nicholas touched his hand to his chin and whispered back, “Yeah. Trying to look professional for the new job. You hate it?”

I smiled. “Sort of. But if I have to take you as you are, I guess that includes facial hair or lack thereof, huh?”