Who Gets the Friends? (3 page)

“You never noticed?”

“Yeah, I noticed. I’m glad you two hit it off. I wanted to tell you that when I invited you to the party the other night, it wasn’t with the intention of fixing you up with anyone.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I think it’s great the way things worked out, but it wasn’t planned.”

Jessica looked at her. “Peg, I know you weren’t trying to fix me up with anyone, and I appreciate it.” She paused. “How long have you known him?”

Peggy thought for a moment. “About six years. He and Doug have been friends since college. One night we double dated with Tom and his ex.”

Jessica tapped her pen on the clipboard for a moment. “So you knew his ex-wife?”

Peggy nodded. “Dreadful person. Very needy and self-centered.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because I picked up on that yesterday when we talked.”

Peggy gave her a startled look. “You actually asked him about his ex?”

“Yeah. Something wrong with that?”

Peggy rolled her eyes and groaned. “Girlfriend, when you’re getting to know a guy, the last thing you do is ask about his previous relationships. That sends them running at full gallop in the opposite direction.”

Jessica set down the clipboard and looked at her. “What’s wrong with getting a clear picture? Maybe I wanted to know about it in case any red flags went up.”

“Did they?”

“No, but it’s still nice to know she didn’t dump his ass because he was a skirt chaser or had a bad temper.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” She hesitated. “Did you tell him about…”

Jessica glanced down. “No. I just told him I’d broken up with my last boyfriend a few months ago.”

Peggy rested her palm on Jessica’s shoulder. “Still tough for you to talk about?”

“A little.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Friday night for dinner.”

Peggy laughed softly and nudged Jessica with her elbow. “Wear something sexy but uncomplicated.”

Jessica whacked her arm with the clipboard. “Stop it. It’s just dinner.”

Peggy chuckled. “See you later.”

Jessica resumed her inventory check but her mind began to drift.
Wear something sexy
but uncomplicated. Right. I guess she meant something without too many buttons or zippers,
something you can get out of in a hurry. It’s only our first real date. I don’t usually go that far until it feels right.
She formed a mental picture of Tom and smiled.
Then again…

* * * *

Tom approached Doug at his table inside Chili’s and took a seat.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “Couldn’t get rid of my last client.”

“No problem,” Doug replied.

The waitress weeded her way through the noontime crowd, took their orders, then departed.

“So how’s it going with Jessica?” Doug asked.

“We had a nice time Sunday afternoon. She’s very easy to talk to and she has a wicked wit I find appealing.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Come on, give up the rest of it.”

“I think she’s a knockout. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Just wanted to make sure your libido wasn’t dead.”

“The patient is alive and well, Doctor.”

Their orders arrived and they began eating.

“Do you know her very well?” Tom asked.

“She’s been to the house a few times.” He sipped some water. “I’m gonna let you in on something, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Okay.”

“Her last relationship ended pretty badly and she might be gun-shy.”

“Define badly.”

Doug hesitated. “He was an Air Force Reservist who died in a plane crash.”

Tom’s brow knitted in concern. “In the Middle East?”

Doug shook his head. “During a training flight in Texas. Some kind of mechanical malfunction.”

Tom set his fork down and took a long drink of iced tea. “Thanks for the heads up. Had they been together long?”

“A year or so, I think Peg said. I know she was pretty broken up about it.”

“I can understand. When did this happen?”

“About six months ago. I was surprised she even came to the party the other night. Peg practically had to drag her there. She didn’t mention anything about it when you two talked?”

“No, all she said was that she and her last boyfriend broke up.” He paused. “That was a pretty gutsy thing to do, not bringing up something so painful. Shows a lot of character strength.”

“I only told you that so you wouldn’t get blindsided.”

“I can keep a secret.”

Tom’s eyes focused on two men approaching their table, escorted by the hostess. He smiled in recognition and raised his hand in a wave at one of them.

“Hello, Fred,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

The man gave him a passing glance and an awkward smile. “Uh…hey, Tom.” He quickly moved to a booth on the other side of the room.

Tom watched him study the menu intently while his companion talked.

“Who was that?” Doug asked.

“Fred Thomas. I used to see him and his wife at the country club.”

“Seemed pretty aloof.”

“He didn’t use to be.” Tom shook his head. “See what I meant about not being in the fold any longer?”

“You mean you met him through your ex?”

“Yeah. She and Fred’s wife work together. Guess someone’s been telling stories about me.”

“Don’t let it get you down.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“How did you leave things with Jessica?”

“I asked her to go to dinner Friday night and she said yes.” He grinned. “She also said I could call her before then if I wanted to.”

“Trust me, Tom—you want to.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, I do, but I’m a little out of practice about what to say.”

Tom dragged a large cardboard box from the bedroom closet to the living room, then sat on the couch. He eagerly opened one of the smaller boxes it contained, then dumped a pile of photographs onto the table. He smiled in remembrance as he leafed through a mix of black-and-white and color pictures dating back to high school. Many of the older ones he had developed and printed in his home darkroom.

He took more from a large envelope and chuckled as he scanned some shots taken on a family vacation to the New England coast.
I have to admit that even back then I had an
eye for scenery and composition.
He took out another stack of photos taken in Florida but his smile slowly faded as he realized that many of them featured his ex-wife.
Guess I need to sort through these.
He put his animosity on hold and concentrated on choosing his favorite shots, setting aside some taken at Disneyworld and the Everglades.

Tom hesitated when he found a thick envelope from the one-hour photo place, knowing what it contained.
These would be the ones I took on our honeymoon. Do I really want to torture myself by looking at them?
He tossed the envelope aside.
Maybe later.

After a half-hour of choosing his favorite shots he sat back on the couch. His mind drifted to Jessica.
I wonder what she’s doing tonight? I keep thinking of something she said Saturday when we met, when she asked if I was genuinely interested in her or just on the rebound. After the time we spent together Sunday, I don’t think it’s rebound. Or is it?

He went to the kitchen for a bottle of water and took a long swallow.
Maybe I am on the rebound and she’s just the first attractive woman who crossed my path. The last few months of my marriage were so bad I couldn’t wait to get out and back on my own again, but is what I’m feeling for Jessica real?

He found the card she’d given him with her phone number and stared at it.
She said I could call and I want to, but what do I say?

* * * *

Jessica stood in front of the TV in her living room, dressed in workout clothes and going through her paces along with the exercise video on the screen. She took deep breaths and her heart pounded at the workout. She glanced at the clock when the session was nearly over, then stopped. She took more breaths to get her pulse back to normal, then wiped the sweat from her brow.
Forty-five minutes of good cardio workout. Not bad. Now if only I weren’t so sore…

She took a long swallow of water from her bottle, then answered the telephone in her kitchen.

“Hi, Jessica, this is Tom. How are you?”

She smiled. “I’m good. You?”

“The same. Hope I didn’t catch you in the middle of anything.”

“No, I just finished my exercises and was about to grab a shower.”

“What kind of exercises?”

“Aerobics. I try to do them a few nights a week. What are you up to tonight?”

“I decided to take your advice. I dug out my photography stuff and began reacquainting myself with the basics.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Some of my old pics and a few how-to books.”

“Do you have a portfolio?”

“Of course.”

“I’d like to see it sometime.”

Tom laughed. “I guess inviting you to come over and look at my etchings is a little old fashioned, huh?”

She giggled. “I hadn’t thought of that but yeah, I guess it is. What types of pictures do you prefer taking?”

“Pretty much anything but I like landscapes, nature and sunsets. I’m really fond of those.”

“Do you ever photograph people?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve done portraits, weddings, proms, model shoots, things like that.”

A sly grin edged across her face. “Hmm, model shoots. Anything centerfold-worthy?”

There was a short silence followed by uneasy laughter. “When I was younger.”

“And single without someone demanding to know why you were photographing pretty girls?”

“You must’ve taken a few psych courses in school.”

“It helps in my job.” She drank more water. “Maybe you can take my picture someday.”

“With or without?”

“With or without what?”

“Clothes, of course.” There was instant silence. “Uh…I probably shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was thinking the same thing.”

They chatted for a few more minutes about nothing consequential. Jessica found herself getting involved in the conversation the longer they talked.
He doesn’t seem to lack for things to talk about.

“I don’t want to keep you too long,” Tom said “What time shall I pick you up Friday?”

“How about six?”

“Perfect. I forgot to ask what types of food you like.”

“Just about anything.”

“How about Italian?”

“Love it.”

“I know just the place. I’ll see you Friday.”

She smiled. “Okay. Good night, Tom.”

She disconnected but held the phone for a moment.
There’s something easygoing about him. I like it.

She went to the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, then stepped into the hot shower. The stinging water felt good on her skin, washing away the results of her workout and the tensions of the day. She lathered up her washcloth, then ran it over her body. Her mind kept going to Tom.
I noticed that he’s in pretty good shape. I wonder if he works out or if he’s just one of those people who’s blessed with a good metabolism? Wish I was. Then I wouldn’t have to work out so often.

Her hand lingered when the washcloth reached her crotch. She closed her eyes and gently rubbed it over her genitals, getting aroused. She stepped closer to the pulsating jets of water, letting them hit her breasts in just the right place while playing with herself with her slippery fingers.
It’s been a long time since I was physically attracted to a man, not since…

She bit her lower lip and massaged her clit, getting more aroused.
Not since Brad. He could make love to me like there was no tomorrow. God, I still miss him.

She rubbed herself with more intensity, then took the showerhead from its bracket, holding it directly over her exposed pussy, using the force of the water along with her fingers to bring herself off. She took in a sharp breath when she climaxed, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over her.

When she subsided, she turned off the water, took a few deep breaths, then dried herself with a towel. She looked into the mirror and brushed her wet hair into its usual style. She stared at her reflection.
If I’m attracted to Tom, why was I just fantasizing about Brad?

Tom approached the door to Jessica’s apartment at 6:00 Friday evening, but hesitated before knocking.
Why is my hand shaking and where did that swarm of butterflies in my stomach come from? It hasn’t been that long since I accompanied a pretty woman to dinner. I didn’t have this much reluctance getting back on the bike I fell off of when I was a kid.

He knocked and waited. A few moments later Jessica opened the door and smiled warmly at him. As he entered, Tom let his gaze wander briefly from head to toe. Jessica had chosen a pair of stylish black slacks accented by a red sweater that clung to her torso in all the right places. She gave Tom a hug, then took a step back to look him over, taking in his light blue v-neck sweater, open-necked blue shirt and navy Dockers.

“You clean up well,” she commented with a twinkle in her eye.

“I was about to tell you the same thing. You look very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Tom walked into the living room and scanned the tasteful furnishings, a pleasing mix of contemporary with a few antique pieces thrown in for contrast. “You have a lovely place.”

“Thank you.” She retrieved her leather coat from the closet. Before she could slip into it, Tom took it, then held it for her.

“I don’t get that very often,” she commented.

“You won’t get all Gloria Steinem on me if I open the car door for you, will you?”

She laughed. “Of course not. I think chivalry is a dying art. Nice to see someone is keeping it alive.”

They got into the car, then proceeded toward downtown. Tom turned down the volume on the smooth jazz station he had selected.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Franco’s in the Oregon District. Have you ever been there?”

“Not for a long time. It’s been awhile since I was in the Oregon District, too. Do they still have that boutique that sells sexy lingerie?”