The Numbers Game (47 page)

            But it
wasn’t as if staying behind in San Francisco and holding Tabitha’s hand was even
an option. It wasn’t. If she wanted to come along for the ride then great; if
not then oh well…what could he do? Such was life.

            The
restaurant he’d chosen for the occasion was a swish one called “The
Establishment”. He picked up Tabitha up at seven o’clock, after first having his
luxury treatment – massage, pedicure, manicure. Yes very wanky but the truth
was Rick had nowhere else to go.  Markie was waiting for him back at the ranch,
expecting to go out hunting on a big boy’s night but Rick had no intention of returning
there. No way. The truth was Markie also needed some time to do a bit of
pampering, of the female kind. Sammy and Sophie had come highly recommended by
men wanting to experience the ‘double fun’ but not ‘double the trouble’ approach.
Now that should quickly bring Markie’s numbers up to a decent level.

            “So here
we are…” said Tabitha, clapping her hands as they pulled up to the restaurant
entrance where a valet parker was waiting to take over. “Ooh I definitely
haven’t been here before.”

            “Neither
have I,” Rick admitted, bringing the car to a stop, “but it comes highly
recommended.” Just like Sammy and Sophie. “Why don’t we make our way inside,
I’m starving.”

            Boys were
always starving, Tabitha thought but she kept it to herself, smiling demurely
when Rick came to open the passenger door. Inside the restaurant was as posh as
they got, much, much worse than the place they went to on their first date. Oh
well, it could only mean two things: Rick was either going to propose or spill
the beans on LA.  And believe me, for someone who’s been waiting her whole
lifetime for a chunky diamond ring, the latter was still the preferred option.

           
I need
to know where I stand,
thought Tabitha.

           
I need
to go to the loo,
was the thought running through Rick’s mind at the same
time. It had always been the case. Give him a big assignment or an all
important project and the first thing he needed to do was wet his pants.

            Once he
excused himself, Rick rushed to the bathroom and tried to think of the best
approach while standing over the urinal. Why didn’t he give this more thought
before? Why did he always have to leave things till the last minute? Luckily
Tabitha was acting particularly decorous tonight, so maybe that in itself was a
sign. It might mean she’d be really receptive to the news, maybe even
congratulate him.

            No, no,
girls weren’t into congratulating men for things they didn’t help them
accomplish. He had better put that thought right out of his mind.

            When Rick
got back to the table, he saw Tabitha had already taken it upon herself to
order a bottle of fine champagne. She was sipping the yellow liquid from her
long stemmed glass. Okay so maybe ordering the beverage went against strictly
decorous behavior but still, at least Tabitha was slowly and surely getting
herself drunk. Drunk people were easier to talk to, they always found bad news funny
– sometimes of the ha, ha variety and other times of the hilarious, rolling
around the floor clutching their tummies variety. Rick wondered which category
Tabitha would fall into.

            “So?” she
said, looking at Rick straight in the eye. “You obviously brought me here for a
very special reason. Why not spill it?”

            Oh feck,
he hadn’t expected Tabitha to grab him by the balls.  Rick spluttered the
mouthful of champagne he’d just taken in all over his black spotless dinner
plate. Then he grabbed a napkin to wipe away what was left of it, dribbling
down his chin.

“I’m not
sure what you mean?”

            “I think
you do,” Tabitha replied, nodding her head. “Remember I’m a woman; I can sense
these sort of things.”

            Oh no, she
was pulling the Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus crap. Rick didn’t stand
a chance with a Mother Earth figure.

            Slowly,
ever so slowly, he did the only thing he could do. He reached over to take
Tabitha’s soft hand into his enormous yet freshly moisturized one. Then he
said:

            “Have you
by any chance heard of someone called Harry B. Sangster, America’s greatest ad man?”

            The look
in Tabitha’s eyes told him she had.

That was definitely
not what she expected to hear, Tabitha surmised as she got ready to meet with
Serena for after-dinner drinks.  After-dinner-with-Rick drinks that is.

            Really
there had been no point in sticking around after he laid it all down. Yes, the
crew at Guerrilla Zoo was moving to LA and yes they were moving in within the
month. His only saving grace had been the casual suggestion that Tabitha come
too.

            “Only if
you want to, of course,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured but if
you’re open to relocating then I’d be more than thrilled.” Rick even offered
her usage of the company’s counselor. “The woman is on retainer anyway.”

            Tabitha
had politely declined the offer; then proceeded to instigate the second step in
her plan (the first being getting him to spill the beans).

            “I think
its best that I go home now,” she smiled, folding the cloth napkin and putting
it to one side. Next she picked up her black clutch from beside her chair and
stood up, to show Rick she was serious.  Because she was serious. Ah perfect and
it wasn’t even seven-thirty yet or half an hour into their date.

            “You can’t
leave now; our main meal hasn’t even arrived!” Rick exclaimed, grasping at
whatever to make her stay.

            “Sorry
honey but I’ve lost my appetite.”

            Tabitha
quickly regained that appetite however upon exiting The Establishment and
sighting a McDonalds down the street.  Oh gosh how long had it been since she
shoved a Big Mac or Quarter Pounder down her throat? Too long. She wasn’t sure
which of the two was best so Tabitha decided to order them all, along with a
Diet Coke and Chocolate Sundae, extra fudge. 

            “Oh and
some French fries please.”

            “In what
size will that be ma’am: small, medium or large?”

            Tabitha
frowned. “Use your imagination,” she said to the pimply boy who couldn’t have
been more than thirteen. That was when she summoned Serena on the cell phone.
Tabitha figured by the time her best friend turned up to save her, her belly
would be chocka-full and she’d need serious help getting up off the plastic
chairs.

            Sensing
the urgency in her voice, Serena responded with, “I’ll be there in ten. With a
crane if it’s what you need. ”

            But a
crane wasn’t what she needed, rather a friend who willing to cop an earful. And
what an earful Serena got.

            “Can you
believe the nerve of the guy? He didn’t think there was anything wrong with not
telling me about a move which is taking place in a few bloody weeks. Rick
thought I should calm down and try to see his side of the story. Now you tell
me Serena, what in the world could his side be? Can you tell me? I don’t think
you can, because the reality is his side doesn’t exist.  I mean, beyond the
fact he is an egocentric, selfish little wanker.”

            Serena was
smiling throughout this entire monologue. The truth was she hadn’t thought or
heard of Rick in such a long time that hearing Tabitha’s rendition was quite
enlightening. There was just one thing she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

            “Tabitha,
when Rick talked about the move did he say it was a maybe thing or a definite
thing? Because when I last spoke to Markie he said the company’s final decision
would depend on what I want. If I stay, they stay, if I go, they all go.”

            Upon
hearing this Tabitha stared at her, with enormous shocked eyes. 

            “Are you
delusional?” she came out with finally. “Why would they miss out on the
opportunity of a lifetime and millions of dollars because you’re not in the
mood for a move?”

            “Because
Markie loves me,” Serena replied defiantly. “He said that’s the way it is, what
I want I get.”

            “Well,”
Tabitha laughed, “Maybe he thought no news was good news. When were you
supposed to get back to him?”

            “He didn’t
say,” Serena shrugged. “I guess by now, he’s probably being waiting for me.”

            “Like I
said, it’s safe to say Markie made an executive decision on your behalf. You’ve
always wanted to live in Hollywood haven’t you?”

            “Tabitha,
maybe when 90210 and Melrose Place were on TV but have I mentioned any
inclination towards the place since then?”

            “Sorry,”
Tabitha snapped. “What is your problem anyway? You have a boyfriend who has
just struck it rich and you’ll probably soon be living like some queen in a
palace, while I on the other hand… I have nothing except someone who doesn’t
give a hoot whether I go or stay.”

            “So why
don’t you go? Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

            “No,”
Tabitha hissed. “It would certainly not solve the problem. For me to go Rick
would have to beg and get down on his knees. He’d have to want me to come more
than anything, more than the roses want the rain.”

            “I think I
get the picture,” Serena interrupted. It was a scary path they were heading
down if Tabitha was stealing lyrics from Bon Jovi. She had a point though. If
Rick wanted Tabitha to go, he would have to ask her, pure and simple, like
Markie had asked Serena. Tabitha was right in stamping her feet.

            As for
Serena, even though her invitation to LA was heartfelt and sincere she still
hadn’t made up her mind. There were too many ifs hanging about. What if Markie
and Serena didn’t get on anymore? What if she felt confused or trapped or
wanted to run away? What if followed by a million stupid hypotheticals…It was
crazy, she knew, but it was as if the past three months had wiped out the
entire five years prior, the good along with the bad. The result was it left
Markie a stranger.

            “So when
will you know?” Tabitha asked, referring to Serena’s much-anticipated decision.
“If you go, I’ll obviously be a jealous bitch. Maybe I’ll even sneak out there
and join you; rent a place with some washed-out actress for a year. Just don’t tell
Rick, I wouldn’t want him to think I followed him.”

            “Honestly,
Tab I don’t know,” Serena sighed. It was pathetic, really. The more she thought
about committing herself to a yes or no, the more she believed she belonged in
a mental hospital. “I haven’t seen Markie in so long and I’ve forgotten what
‘we’ are like, whether ‘we’ are worth shifting our entire lives for.”

            “Haven’t you
looked in a photo album lately?” Tabitha replied in disbelief. “On second
thoughts forget about the photo album; what you need is the real thing. You
need to give Markie a call and sit down for a chat. ASAP. He’s a hot-looking
thing in case you forgot. Very hot.” Tabitha winked.

            “Thanks,”
Serena smiled. In her head she knew Tabitha was right but her lustometer was currently
down for repairs. “I think you have a valid point about giving Markie a call.
So what if it’s against the rules of the game– some rules are meant to be
broken.”

            She leaned
forward and grabbed Tabitha’s hand.

“I promise
I’ll give him a call tomorrow.”

And she did.

            At
approximately three thirty pm, after at least three dozen failed attempts,
Serena picked up the phone and dialed Markie on the cell phone. It was funny;
once upon a time she could have told you exactly what her beloved would be doing
at that moment, if he was in a meeting with so-and-so or taking in a game of
squash with a potential business partner. Now, Serena had zilch idea, nudda.
Markie could have been riding a camel in the middle of the Sahara for all she
knew.

            He wasn’t though.
For starters, Markie sounded like he had his two feet placed firmly on the
ground. More specifically he sounded like he was seated and obviously in some
office-type vicinity given the wealth of electrical devices resonating in the
background (telephones, photocopiers, keyboard tapping, you name it, Serena
could hear it).

            “Markie,
it’s Serena,” she said, once the call got answered.

            “Serena!”
Markie exclaimed. What followed next seemed like a body erecting to standing
position, chairs scraping, doors being opened, closed, a change of location of
some sort.

            “Gosh I’ve
been waiting, hoping you would call. How are you? Is everything okay?”

            If an
eavesdropper didn’t know better, they’d conclude from this introduction that
Serena was either recovering from major surgery, heavily pregnant or an
invalid.

            “I’m fine,
so that’s a yes to both questions.” Serena paused to clear her throat. It
helped having a welcome reception; it made what came next not as difficult.