I hope everyone is having a Happy Friday and an early start to the Mother's Day weekend. I just returned from Costco and bought some hot Italian sausage to grill on Sunday. I won't eat it, but having a happy husband and father will make me happy too!
As you'll see, the second chapter in my book is back-story. It goes back in time to where my husband and I first met. You might also notice that I am calling him Jack (real name Brian), because if my book actually gets published, I know that he would not want his name out there. Most of the other names in my book have been changed as well.
Here is the next section. Please let me know what you think.
Chapter Two
November 2004
“Yes,
the P/E ratio is at the high end of its ten year historic range,” I said to the
hedge fund associate on the phone. It
baffled me that he didn’t know about the bank’s price to equity ratio. It was easy to find on Yahoo!Finance; he did
work for a hedge fund after all.
“Yup,
I totally agree. However, if you look at
the charge-off ratio and loan write-offs, I think you’ll agree that those are
both incredibly low.”
“That’s
true. Listen, I have to run to a dinner
meeting. Can we talk in the morning?” I
said, knowing that he’d call at 7:30 a.m.like he did every morning.
“Well,
yes, it is possible that the banks can still perform better; I don’t know how
much money I would invest in them right now.”
The banks were performing the best they had in decades. Loan volume soared higher each month and loan
and credit card defaults were at an all-time low.
“Ok,
true. Listen, I’m running late now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Terrific,
thanks. Have a good night.” I couldn’t believe I got him off the
phone. I wish I never had to take his
calls, but our bosses took the seaplane from the East River to the Hamptons
together on the weekends. I had to
curtsey whenever he called.
I
hung up the phone and logged out of my computer. ‘Bull Stein Excellence in Equity Research’
crawled across my screen. Four years
prior, I was so excited to work for BS.
That feeling is now corrupted by fifteen hour days, twelve, if I was
lucky. I tried to play the game to get
ahead, but ultimately knew that I would never sacrifice meeting a husband and
having children for money or career prestige.
To get to the next level on Wall Street, I would need to commit every
waking hour to Bull Stein, which conflicted with my dream. I didn’t necessarily need the white picket
fence, but I wanted everything else. A
tall, handsome husband and 2.2 children – more if I was lucky.
The
cold night air hit my bare legs and I shivered.
I wondered what I was thinking for wearing a short Ellie Taharai skirt
suit. I knew my legs were my best
feature, but it was freezing and running or even walking fast wasn’t possible
in my three and a half inch heels.
Thankfully, the distance between the Bull Stein office and Hotel X (can
we name the real hotel for detail and establishing place? wasn’t that far.
“Yes,
I’d like a glass of Pinot Grigio,” I said.
I handed the bartender money and grabbed my drink. I really wanted a hot tea. My fingers were stiff from the frosting on my
gloves and occasionally my teeth still chattered. A nice glass of wine should do the trick, but
an earl grey would have been better.
I
snuck around the lobby, checking out any man in his early 30s. I wondered if I gave Jack a good enough
description of myself. In my profile, I
correctly stated that I was five-nine, but with my heels, I definitely was over
six feet. I didn’t see anyone who
resembled him. Maybe he wasn’t coming?
I
leaned my back on the bar and tried to look relaxed. I was halfway done with my second glass of
wine when I saw him. Jack walked in all
six feet two inches and looked to be in charge.
He’s sexy, I thought. He wore a
camel coat with a wool scarf flung around his neck. His crystal, blue eyes caught my gaze and
swallowed me in their whirpool of promise.
“Hi
Laura.” Jack said.
Your
voice is as sexy as you look, I said to myself as my heart fluttered. “It’s nice to meet you Jack,” I said holding
out my hand. Jack took my hand and
pulled me closer and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Bells rang in my head. You’re in trouble. He’s a player.
“Would
you like another glass of wine?” His voice was as smooth as the best wine I
ever had.
“Yes,
that would be nice, a Pinot Grigio, please.”
“Ok,
any specific one?” Jack asked.
“I
don’t know what I’m drinking, house, I guess.”
I wish I read up on wines, so I didn’t sound so ignorant.
Jack
handed me a glass and we moved to a vacated spot on a couch. I had to concentrate
on each step. The stairs were a bit
harder. Thankfully, Jack gave me his arm
and helped me navigate the three stairs.
We
sat down and after some small talk, Jack asked, “Do you want to get married
someday?”
“Yeah,
I guess, I really just want a sex slave.”
That’s such a loaded question.
Unfortunately, my mouth shot words like speeding bullets that were
headed nowhere good.
“What?”
His eyes widened.
“Seriously,
I’d really like to have kids, but I’m tired of dating and trying to find the
right guy.” Please know this is the
truth, I willed with my eyes.
“I’d
like to have a family, two or three kids,” Jack said.
“Yes,
but do you really want one or are you just smart enough to say what you think
most girls want to hear?”
“No,
I really do want a wife and kids.”
“It’s
hard to believe you. Do you know how
many times I’ve heard stuff like that and then it’s obvious that it isn’t true?
That’s why I figure that I’m going to play the game.”
“What
game?” he said as if he didn’t
know. Yeah right, I thought. It was well known that most men, single or
married, used the online dating sites to find one night stands. I knew that, but between the free dinners and
my undying hope that I would find love, I continued to use them.
“Nope,
I definitely do not want kids. I want no
attachments whatsoever and I definitely want to work the rest of my life. I honestly just want a sex slave.”
“Yeah,
I get it. I could be your slave!” and
his eyes twinkled.
“I’m
sure you could. I bet most men in here
would agree to be my slave for one night, at least.”
“No,
I’m sure all of them would want to be with you.”
“That’s
probably true, but did you see how that woman was staring at you. I bet you could get all the women in here,” I
said. We went back and forth like this
for most of the rest of the date. It was
fun, exciting. It was better than trying
to prove whose resume was better. I was
hooked.
“I’m
going to have to go home soon,” I said.
It was ten o’clock and on most nights, I was asleep by now.
Jack
put his hand on me knee. I felt the warmth of his smile on my thigh. He looked into my eyes, leaned in and kissed
me. “Do you have to leave?” he asked.
Words
were lost in my head. He chuckled. I hated him.
“Yes, I need to go now.” I got up
and sat back down again. Jack laughed.
“It
looks like you are going to need a little help.”
“Well,
if you weren’t late, I wouldn’t have had that extra glass of wine.”
“I
realize it’s my fault. That’s why I
offered my help.”
I
firmly grabbed Jack’s arm and let him guide me outside and into a taxi. “Thank you for a nice evening.”
“I
had a great time too. Let’s go out next
weekend,” he said and gently kissed my leathered hand.
“Yes,
that would be great,” I said and shut the taxi door.
“So
have you heard from Jack?” Sam asked and she walked into my office and plopped
down in the chair opposite my desk. She
put her coffee down on the papers stacked in the corner, oblivious that it was
a presentation for a client meeting that afternoon.
Sam
has to be one of the prettiest women I have ever met that has absolutely no
idea how gorgeous she is. Of course, it
only makes her that much more attractive.
Her shiny, black hair fell in waves to her sholder. It perfectly accentuated her heart shaped
face and Asian-American chocolate eyes.
However, it was her quick to laugh personality that notched up her
beauty, if that was even possible. Sam
grew up and went to college in San Francisco.
By the way she dressed, earthy, most people knew that she was not a
native New Yorker or trying to be one.
“No,
I don’t know what’s going on,” I said and carefully slid my report out from
under her coffee cup.
“Well,
I hate to be the one to say it, but it seems like he’s blowing you off,” Sam
said. “Oh, I spilled some coffee on your
papers. I hope you don’t need those?”
“No,
no, I don’t need those.” I routinely pile garbage on the corner of my desk and
those coasters, you see, are just for decoration. “He’s totally flaking on me. I can’t believe it. I thought chemistry was mutual. If you felt it then so did the other person.”
Sarah
walked into my office and casually leaned across the file cabinets. “What’s going on?”
“Laura
and Jack are suppose to have a date on Saturday, but Jack hasn’t emailed or
called since Monday,” Sam said.
“Sorry,
Laura, he probably decided to go out with someone else,” Sarah said.
Sarah
and I worked on the same hallway for the last five years and shared too many
dinners while leaning over spreadsheets.
Sarah analyzes retailers and I study banks. By looking at Sarah with her long, flowing
mane of chestnut brown hair pulled back by her Chanel sunglasses and glossy,
black Jimmy Choo boots that cover her legs up to the knees and me with my Bass
loafers, non-descript black slacks topped with a feminized version of a man’s
oxford shirt, it is obvious who covered which sector.
“Yeah,
that totally sucks,” Sam said.
“Oh
well, at least I had one nice date,” I said.
“You
seem to go on a lot of dates, you’ll find someone else,” Sam said with soft
eyes.
“Yeah,
it’s not hard to find guys to go on dates with, but it’s hard to find someone
that you click with. I think I made some relationships work when there wasn’t
anything there,” I said.
“Oh,
I definitely did that with Rajit,” Sam said.
“I don’t know how many times he told me that his parents were going to
arrange his marriage in India, but I insisted on trying to make it work.”
Sarah
and I eyed each other. “Sam, it seemed
like he really did love you, though,” Sarah said.
“Well,
it was nice dating him rather than nobody,” Sam said. Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Sam
next time, don’t date someone for three years who tells you that he’ll never
marry you after the second date,” Sarah said. With seven years dating the same man, Sam and
I looked up to Sarah as a relationship Goddess.
“I
didn’t know he was so serious,” Sam said and slowly blinked.
I
could see the wetness lining her eyes, but my brain had already thrown words
out of my mouth. “Didn’t he tell you
that a few times,” I said and closed my eyes and shifted in my chair. I’m such a jerk, I thought, but it killed me
to see her make the same mistake with Rajit that she did with Hikam. I did that too, though. I made the same mistakes with men time and
time again. Am I just like Sam, I
thought. Destined to keep making the
same mistakes.
“He
told me that every time I asked. I still
didn’t think he was being serious. I just thought that he didn’t want to get
married yet,” she said and put her head in her hands.
Sarah
offered Sam a tissue, while Sarah throttled me with a look. “Sam, you did have fun dating Rajit and
that’s what’s most important. Don’t
listen to us. What do we know?” Sarah
said.
“I’m
sorry. I’m the last person who should
give out dating advice. Well, maybe I
could give advice for how to have a smashing first date, but then have him blow
you off for a second,” I said and looked up at Sam from under my glasses. Sam nodded and forgave me faster than I
forgave myself.
“I
think I might email Mr. Gold and see what he’s doing on Saturday night.”
“Um,
I thought you told him that you were busy,” Sarah said.
“Can’t
I just tell him that my plans changed?” I shrugged my shoulders and half
smiled, but I really felt deflated inside.
Jack doesn’t want me, I thought.
“I
don’t know; doesn’t that sound funny.
It’s already Friday,” Sam said, because she already had her social
calendar filled for the next two months.
“Yes,
but my plans did change. It’s the
truth.” I clicked my mouse to create a
new email.
“Aren’t
you going to see Mr. Gold on Sunday? Why
not just stay home?” Sam said, which was funny, because Sam never stayed home
on the weekends. She went to brunches,
lunches, cocktail parties, dinners and then late night clubbing. She sobered up Monday through Wednesday,
just to start her partying again Thursday night.
“Yeah,
so?” I didn’t mind staying in for the night.
I’d curl up on the couch and read books that I was supposed to read in
high school. However, I couldn’t wrap my
mind around the fact that Jack was blowing me off. I’d spend the night wondering whom Jack was
kissing.
“Oh,
email him and see what he says,” Sam said.
“I
guess it can’t hurt.” Sarah shifted her weight and reached in her purse for her
vibrating cell phone. She waved her hand
in front of her face and answered. She
spun on her patent-leather red-soled stilettos and scampered down the hall to
her office.
“I
wonder what that’s about?” Sam said.
My
computer started to ping, “The New York Time is reporting that there retail
sales took a nose-dive.”
“Poor
Sarah. I wonder how many angry clients are going to be mad that she didn’t
predict this?”
I
nodded. “I’m glad I’m not her, but back
to Jack. I hate to say this, but you’re probably
right. I’ll just stay in tomorrow night
and then go out with Mr. Gold on Sunday.”
“I’m
sure you’ll hear from Jack. Just keep
busy and the day will fly.” Sam stood
and picked up her coffee, which left a big ring on my desk.
“Sorry,”
she said and watched me clean up the mess before she headed back to her office.
The
rest of the workday was filled with boring, financial modeling and more longing
for Jack. It wasn’t until I finished
merging two one-thousand-lined financial models together that I heard the
familiar ping of my computer, clicked on my Outlook and smiled. I forwarded the email to Sarah and Sam and
within seconds they were in my office.
“Oh
my gosh, what are you going to do?” Sam said between deep breaths. She lowered into my spare chair and leaned
forward on my desk.
“I
don’t know. What should I do?” I should respond to Jack’s email and tell him
that I was looking forward to going out with him again.
“So
typical, I can’t believe that Jack emails you at 4:30 on Friday, expecting you
to still be free on Saturday night?” who said this? Sarah took a couple more
steps into my office and leaned her back against the file cabinets that lined
the wall.
“What
was he thinking?” Sam said.
“My
guess is that he wasn’t thinking,” I said.
“Do you think that he was trying to go out with someone else
instead? That I was his back-up plan.”
“Sorry,
but it seems that way to me,” Sarah said, not looking up from her coffee.
“No,
no way. From everything you’ve said, he
doesn’t seem to be that type of guy,” Sam said.
“Really,
Sam, you believe that Jack really likes Laura and just forgot about her until
now?” Sarah said.
“Why
not?” Sam said.
“Because
he’s a player,” Sarah said.
“I
don’t think he’s a player. Couldn’t he
have just forgotten?” I said. Wanting more than anything to believe the words
that were coming out of my mouth.
“No,
save yourself some heartache now and tell him you’re busy,” Sarah said.
“Ok,
so I’ll tell him that because I hadn’t heard from him since Monday that I
thought he was blowing me off, so I made other plans.”
“No,
don’t tell him that you thought he was blowing you off. That will show him that you care. Just tell him that you made other plans.”
“I
don’t know Laura, he really could just have gotten busy,” Sam said. I love that Sam believes in the inherent good
of people; I wish I could.
I
tended to side with Sarah when it came to dating advice, so I sent an email to Jack
telling him that I had made other plans.
However,
when Saturday arrived, I thought that I had made a mistake. Finally, at four o’clock,
I convinced myself that I wouldn’t look too desparate if I sent Jack an email.
“Jack,
My
plans for tonight fell through. If you
haven’t made other plans, then I’d love to go out.
I
hope you are having a good day,
Laura”
I
hit send and immediately started to regret it. I no longer looked strong. He was going to know that I was playing
games. Within two minutes, I got an
email from Jack and breathed. I guess he
didn’t care about how he looked either.
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