“Oh, Jenna and I think Britney and Ed. Have you met them?” I told her I hadn’t. “Oh, they’re great. I go to law school with Ed and I know Jenna from college. Britney is a friend of Jenna’s from Columbia. They’re all really fun.”
I watched her drain half the cosmopolitan in one gulp. “Whoo! That’s good.” She licked her lips and smiled. “So you’re from LA?”
“Well, Riverside, actually. It’s east of here about sixty miles.”
“Your family still there?”
“Yeah.”
“What do they do?”
“My dad owns a tile business, you know tile work in houses and stuff.” I lied. My father only worked for a tile contractor. Somehow I thought it would impress her if she thought my dad was a business owner. But she didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
“Your mom?”
“She stays at home and chases my little brothers and sister around the house. I’m pretty sure she’s got the tougher job.” I hoped my acknowledgment that raising children was hard work would also impress her. Again, she nodded blankly, finished her drink and leaned into the bar sideways, kicking her hip out and resting her hand on it.
“What about you?” I finally asked.
“Chicago. My dad’s a heart surgeon. My mom spends his money. My two older brothers and I have all moved away and none of us plan to go back. I’ve been living in New Haven for six years, making trips to New York for fun and decided to spend the summer out here. Between Chicago and New England, I think I may have had enough snow to last a lifetime.”
“I hear you.” I had never lived anywhere where it snowed.
“Although, sometimes it’s nice to bundle up in the cold.” She smiled again — that wide mouth, full lips, and faint freckles — and squinted, almost winking. She faced the bar and brushed against me as she turned. “Crowded in here.” She said, and tried to signal the bartender. I finished my drink, set the glass down and shifted my position slightly away from her to avoid her accidentally rubbing up against my erection. “Two more!” She called to the bartender.
I wondered what her comment meant. Was she thinking of a permanent move to Los Angeles? For an instant, I wondered if a woman like her would be interested in a kid from Riverside. Don’t be silly, I told myself, as she turned to hand me another gin and tonic.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
“So I’m hoping to see as much of the city as I can before the end of the summer.”
“There’s a lot here.” I said, stating the obvious and suddenly wondering where the other people who were supposed to be coming were.
After two more rounds and forty minutes of continuous gossip about the firm and which partners were rumored to sleep with the associates, the secretaries, the clients, and anyone else they could, it was clear that no one else was going to show.
Morgan huffed slightly, looked around the bar, and then poked my chest with her index finger. “Guess what?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t think any of these people are showing. Why don’t we get the hell out of here?”
I thought briefly about work, I thought of checking my watch to see what time it was, I even thought of Liz for half a second. But I was four drinks into the evening and she was mesmerizing and I figured, why not? When was this going to happen again?
“Sure.” I replied. “Where to?”
“I’ve been wanting to go to this place I heard about over at Hollywood and Vine. I’m guessing it won’t be packed tonight.”
***
We took a cab; at three grand a week, we could afford it. Morgan sat in the middle of the back seat. Her leg pressed tight against mine. The bottom of her black dress was halfway up her thigh and I resisted the urge to touch it, somehow, to shift or move or drop something or to otherwise devise an artifice that would result in my hand caressing the smooth, firm flesh of her thigh.
“So why doesn’t a good looking guy like you have a girlfriend?” She asked, her head back on the seat and tilted sideways, toward me. “Or do you,” she continued, “and you’re just not mentioning her?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” I replied, dreaming up questions to ask the cabbie that would require me to lean forward and accidentally grab her knee.