First Time: Penny's Story (First Time (Penny) Book 1) (6 page)

Deja pulled the tail of her ruched-sided
black blouse from the back of her skinny jeans and cracked her
neck. She was the only person who could dress like a rock star in
dark colors in the summer and pull it off. “All right. What are we
doing today?”

“
Staff is coming in at
nine—you had to cut hours from payroll after last month,” I
reminded them, tapping the wireless trackpad for the Mac on my
desk. “Deja, you have a ten o’clock with a representative from
Illamasqua. Sophie, you’re interviewing Grace Smith from Barneys
for your editorial feature at nine-fifteen, and both of you are
supposed to be in the conference room at ten-thirty for the October
pitch meeting.

“
In the meantime, Sophie has
to approve the photos for the tights piece, and you both have calls
to return.” Before they could ask, I added, “I’ve forwarded their
messages.”

“
Oh.” Deja looked at Sophie
and shrugged.

“
Yeah, we’d better get to
it,” Sophie said, and they both headed off to their
offices.

I rolled my eyes and waited. They only got a
few steps before they dissolved into laughter.

“
Okay,” Deja said as she
turned back. “Obviously we want to know how it went.”

“
I have seriously been
dying.” Sophie grabbed a chair from another desk—our office is open
floor plan—and practically used it as a scooter to pull up beside
me. “How did it go?”

“
It went…really well.” My
smile grew as I once again pored over the evening in my mind. “It
started off just horrible. Sophie, why didn’t you tell him I was
twenty-two?”

“
Because I thought he might
not show up if I did,” she said defensively. “And he would have
been missing out on some primo Penny.”

“
You didn’t tell him?” Deja
exclaimed in disbelief.

“
He totally freaked out. I
think he was looking for the
To Catch A
Predator
guy to pop out from somewhere.” I
shot Sophie a pointed look. “But we ditched the restaurant, got
some takeout, and ate it in a park.”

“
See?” Sophie said
triumphantly. “I bet it was really romantic.”

“
It was!” I agreed. “Until
the cops showed up and thought he was trying to buy sex from
me.”

I watched as the color drained from both of
their faces. “He handled it like a pro. Almost too good. Do you
think he solicits sex from women in the park a lot?”

“
I’m guessing probably not,”
Sophie assured me.

“
Okay, so, how bad are your
other dates, if you would describe this one as going well?” Deja
asked dryly.

“
It was so bad it was funny.
And…pretty fun.” I sighed and told Sophie, “Yes, I liked him. A
lot.”

“
Are you going out again?”
She asked.

I nodded. “We ran into each other yesterday
in East River Park. I was out for a run and caught him after
church—”

Sophie sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Ian?
Goes to church?”

“
I guess so.” It made me a
little bit happy that I knew that and the person who was friends
with him didn’t. It made our connection independent, somehow. “He
said he would call me about going on a picnic on
Saturday.”

“
And he was okay with the
whole…” Deja gestured at me like I was wearing a big red V on my
chest.

“
I didn’t tell him. It’s not
exactly something you tell a guy on a first date.” People who knew
I was a virgin always seemed to think I started every relationship
with a disclosure. The way I saw it, sex was no guarantee for
anyone. It wasn’t an obligation. If Ian found out that “go slow”
might mean “go nowhere”, it was up to him if he was willing to walk
away. “If a guy can’t be happy with me without having sex with me,
then I’m never going to be happy with
him
.”

“
Good for you.” Sophie
lightly tapped my arm with her fingers. “And I bet he really liked
you.”

Hopes I didn’t realize I’d had fell a little.
Now that I thought about it, maybe I’d been expecting some intel
from Sophie regarding how Ian felt about me. “I think he did. He
tried to kiss me, but my breath was so bad, I turned him down. I
really regretted that.”

“
I’m sure you’ll get your
chance,” Deja said. “Look, we’ve got a busy day. Enough gossip. And
Penny? You get four minutes today to sigh dreamily and stare into
space, but that’s it.”

“
Understood,” I swore,
crossing my heart.

I would have to set a stopwatch on my
phone.

* * * *

Central Park
on a Saturday in August was nuts. It was the worst idea in the
history of bad ideas for a date, which seemed fitting; Ian’s fancy
restaurant gig was the mythical dream first date, and it had blown
up horribly. So maybe having the second one in a bad location would
go really well.

I hopped up the steps from the subway and
crossed the street, and pulled the map I’d printed off the internet
out of my purse. I’d lived in New York for a few years, now, and I
could still get lost in the communal backyard. I couldn’t afford to
go unintentionally exploring in the shoes I was wearing.

Yes, it was stupid, beyond stupid, to be
wearing strappy high-heeled sandals to a date in Central Park. But
I didn’t care. I wanted to look hot. I wanted Ian to be interested
in me.

I just wanted Ian.

Over the week, we’d talked on the phone four
times. They were short conversations about the logistics of our
picnic, but both of us lingered at the end of them, like we didn’t
want to hang up.

“
This whole thing shouts
mid-life crisis,” Rosa had warned me before I’d left the apartment.
“And a quarter-life one for you. You’re both acting like middle
schoolers.”

Maybe that’s what made it so fun.

My heart was beating like crazy by the time I
reached Turtle Pond. I stepped to the side of the path so as not to
be run down by cyclists, put away my map and found my phone, all
while juggling the handled paper bag full of highly bruise-able
fruit over my arm. I dialed up Ian’s number, scanning the area.
There were so many people around, but my eyes zeroed in on him. Who
was I kidding? Everything zeroed in on him. He was wearing jeans—an
odd choice, considering how hot it was, but at least they weren’t
Obama jeans—and a casual white button down with the sleeves rolled
up. He was also standing with his back turned to me. I could have
just told him I saw him and headed on over, but I had a much
better, much sillier idea.

“
I have managed to get us
the perfect spot,” Ian answered, instead of a hello. I noticed he
had a habit of just picking up in the middle of a conversation we
weren’t having. “But you’ve got to act fast. There are some
sinister-looking hipsters nearby, and they’ve got anti-capitalist
literature.”

What a dork. But the cute kind of dork. “I am
in the general vicinity. Stand up, so I can find you.”

I picked my way across the lawn, wobbling a
little in my stupid sandals as I passed a guy in a Papa John’s
delivery uniform napping on the grass.

I’d almost reached Ian by the time he said,
“I am standing up. Where are you?”

Just before he could turn, I tapped him on
the shoulder. He startled and fumbled his phone as he turned, and
his shock and annoyance vanished as I smiled at him. “Fruit and
water, as requested.”

He pointed to the blanket he’d promised to
bring and said, “Something so you don’t have to touch the grass.”
Those were the exact words I used when I’d requested it. He added,
“And sandwiches.”

His gaze strayed obviously to my bare
shoulder. I’d gone out and bought a new sundress for our date,
because I got stupid when I came down with a crush. The fabric was
pale daisy yellow and light as a breeze, with spaghetti straps that
tied at my shoulders. The bodice was blousy and pintucked above the
vintage high waist, so it disguised the ruffle on the bandeau I
wore to restrain my breasts. I wanted to look good, but there was
no way I would have worn an actual strapless bra outside in this
sweaty heat.

But I doubted Ian was appreciating the
structure of the garment, so much as he was imaging untying the
long, loopy bows on my shoulders. I’d spent the entire train ride
alternately fearing that a stranger would pull one and fantasizing
about Ian doing it. So I recognized the sort of dazed look in his
eyes; I’d seen it in my own in my reflection in the train
window.

“
You look very pretty
today,” he said, shaking himself from his momentary
trance.

I felt my smile becoming too beauty-pageant
for words, but I couldn’t help it. My brain went one hundred
percent goofy, too, because when I tried to compliment him, I ended
up insulting him. “Thanks. You look good, too. I like that you
ditched the undertaker look.”

“
Undertaker? That’s a bit
harsh, isn’t it?” He sounded actually hurt a bit.

I quickly added, “Nah. Sometimes the
undertaker look is sexy.”

It wasn’t a lie. Men in suits were hotness
catnip. When the guy had a genuinely sweet personality, too? Bingo.
But even without the suit, Ian was handsome. Just not in the way I
was used to qualifying handsome.

Any offense I’d caused must have been
forgiven, because he put his arm around my shoulders and drew me
close to his side. I held my breath; the contact of his bare
forearm against my shoulder made me hyperaware of my skin in ways I
never had been before.

“
Let’s sit down. It’s been a
battle not to eat both of these sandwiches myself.”

I leaned into him. It felt unreasonably good.
Too good. “Well, you wouldn’t have had any water, so you would have
gotten thirsty.”

Ugh, my brain was not working. I blamed the
hug. Of all the things I’d expected when I’d agreed to go on a date
with a fifty-three-year-old man, the last thing had been that I
would find him overwhelmingly sexually attractive.

Better to change the subject. I sat on the
blanket and made sure my skirt wouldn’t fly up then reached into
the bag. Fruit. Fruit was a safe, nonsexual topic. “So, I brought
strawberries and peaches.” I squinted at the alleged peach as I
examined it. “I thought I got peaches. Live and learn.”

“
In this case, learn the
difference between peaches and nectarines.” He reached out and
playfully snatched it, adding, “I like these better,
anyway.”

I appreciated the effort at making me feel
less stupid. “Show me the goods. You’ve been bragging up these
sandwiches all week.”

Before he could make a move, I pulled the
picnic basket toward us. The only thing I’d eaten all day was the
banana I’d bought at the same market I’d gotten the strawberries
and nectarines from, and that was just to ensure that I didn’t pass
out from low blood sugar on the train over. I’d had nervous stomach
all morning. It had all cleared up the moment I’d arrived. I guess
I’d just been worried that our plans would fall through and I
wouldn’t get to see him. But now, those nerves were gone, and the
scent wafting from the basket put me just a step below
“newly-infected rage zombie” in terms of hunger.

He reached into the basket and pulled out
sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil. “Grilled Cubans. You said you liked
ham, so here you go.”

I do. Oh, I
do
like ham.

Going into raptures over how much I liked ham
would have probably been off-putting, so I just lifted the edge of
the foil and took a long, greedy inhale. Whatever was in the thing,
it was amazing. I spotted roasted pork in addition to the promised
ham, some pickles, Swiss cheese and whole-grain mustard.

There was no way I could politely nibble.
“I’m going to be rude and dive right into this.”

“
I don’t mind at all,” he
said, unwrapping his own.

I took a bite—and probably got mustard seeds
stuck in my teeth—and my eyes rolled back in my head. I may have
even made some not-safe-for-work noises as I savored it. Wiping a
little dribble of grease from my lower lip, I forced myself to act
like a person and not a wild food scavenger. But I couldn’t
downplay how awesome this was. “Oh my god. This sandwich is a
religious experience.”

“
I told you,” he said,
taking his own bite.

“
Where did you get these?” I
grabbed a bottled water from the bag and gave it to him before I
opened my own.

He swallowed and said, “There’s a deli not
far from my place that makes fantastic grilled sandwiches. They do
a portabella panini that’s phenomenal.”

I mentally added
loves sandwiches
to the
list of positive qualities I’d noticed about him. But I needed a
more specific location with regards to these, just in case things
didn’t work out between us. “Where do you live?”

“
Brooklyn.
Dumbo.”

I had no idea where Dumbo was, but I’d heard
people say it in reference to the neighborhood before, so I knew he
wasn’t insulting me.

The most important thing was, I knew what
train to ride to get closer to the mythical deli. “Get out! I work
in Brooklyn!”

“
I know you do,” he said
with a laugh that slightly embarrassed me. Of course he knew where
I worked. I worked for Sophie. He went on, “Do you know the gray
building with the clock tower? Used to be a textile factory, but
now it’s all condos?”

“
I wouldn’t know what it
used to be, but you mean the big square clock tower with the green
roof?” Wait, if he lived there, and I worked nearby, did that mean
I finally knew were Dumbo was? I’d always been too afraid to ask.
“Is that your building?”