Lauren Weisberger - Chasing Harry Winston

It was Leigh’s turn to sigh. “Not too much. Oh, wait, actually I’m lying. Guess who I met last night?”

“Give me a hint.”

“Adriana has him pegged as her future husband.”

“You met Tobias Baron? Oh my god! Tell me everything! I didn’t even know he called her.”

“I know, she’s been a little weird about this one. Quiet. Almost like she’s worried about jinxing it. I guess he went home to LA for a couple weeks and is now back in New York. They went out for the first time last Wednesday, and then again with Russell and me last night, and check this out-she still hasn’t slept with him.”

Emmy gasped. “No!”

“Really.”

“So what’s wrong with him? Adriana has never, ever gone out with a successful, famous, good-looking guy and not slept with him-and on two dates, no less. Like, ever .”

“I know.” Leigh laughed. “I think she might be taking this whole bet you two made seriously, because it didn’t seem like there was anything drastically wrong with him. He was charming in that slightly smarmy Hollywood way, but not offensive. Polite, engaging, and definitely into her.”

“And her?” Emmy asked.

“She appeared to worship him. We all went to a late dinner at the Odeon and I’m not sure why we bothered. The two of them couldn’t stop nuzzling each other.”

“That’s so great,” Emmy said automatically, supplying the expected response. Of course she should be happy that her commitment-phobic friend had found true love, just like she should be thrilled that her sister was having a baby. But the shoulds weren’t translating to reality.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. She’s going to LA to see him next weekend, so that’ll probably be the deal-breaker. She’ll screw it up then for sure.”

“Leigh! That’s not very best friend-like of you.” Emmy feigned outrage but was actually delighted.

“Yeah, well, kill me. We both know that girl, and we know she’s nobody’s wife. Not now, and probably not ever. It’s sweet that she wants to try, but I’m not sold.”

“Fair enough. How are you? How’s Russell?” Emmy noticed the two guys packing up their backgammon board and giving each other the not-really-touching backslap good night. The fairer one with longish hair who looked quite young gathered the two empty beer bottles and the board and walked toward the lobby. The darker-haired one, who was about five-eleven, maybe six feet, and wearing a short-sleeved white linen shirt, walked toward her.

“He’s good. Not much new to report. Our mothers have gone into full wedding-planning mode, but we’re both trying to stay out of it.”

“Clearly a good call,” Emmy murmured. She was annoyed to see the guy toss his wallet and towel on a nearby chaise and begin to remove his shirt. If the entire pool area was completely deserted, why did he have to be right next to her?

“Yeah, not so interested. Things are crazy enough at work right now, and I just found out I’ve got to go to Long Island next weekend.”

“Hmm,” Emmy said, not hearing a word. The guy stripped off his jeans to reveal navy mesh shorts beneath them, and Emmy was intrigued to see that he actually appeared much leaner without his clothes on. Some might even call him skinny, but Emmy preferred to think of him as lithe. She wondered if it was okay to describe a boy as lithe. He had a completely flat stomach and an undeveloped chest, but he was still appealing, in a John Mayer sort of way. Brooding and temperamental. Possibly even sexy, if you could get past the short-sleeved button-down shirt.

Leigh was saying something about the Hamptons and a new author, but Emmy wasn’t paying attention. She was too conscious of the guy listening to her side of the conversation, so instead she said, “Leigh, I’m just going to head inside. Can I call you in a few minutes from upstairs?”

“I’m going to sleep, so let’s just talk tomorrow. Russell is-”

“Sounds good, sweetie. Sleep well.” Emmy clicked the phone shut without waiting for Leigh’s response.

The guy smiled at her-a nice smile, she decided, although not spectacular-and stepped onto the hot tub’s top step. He lowered himself in quickly, seeming not even to notice the scalding water, and said, “Aww. Missing your boyfriend?”

She could feel herself blushing, which she hated. “No, uh, that wasn’t my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend. It was my friend Leigh. From New York.”

He grinned, and she wanted to kill him, and then herself. Why did she always talk like this? Was it any of his business who was on the phone, where she was spending the night, whether or not she had a boyfriend? She knew she had serious disclosure problems, but did he have to laugh at her for it?

“Ah, got it. How is Leigh from New York?”

Emmy couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or asking seriously, and she found this unnerving. “Leigh from New York is just fine,” she said, a bit more haughtily than she intended. And then, as she wiggled her toes in the warm water and watched this boy watch her, she suddenly no longer cared what he thought. “She’s having a really busy week at work and doesn’t sound nearly as excited about her impending marriage as I think she should be. Which is strange, because her fiancé is fantastic. She just told me that our other friend has fallen head over heels in love with a famous director-and no, I won’t tell you his name, because I’m discreet like that-and it’s just so unlike her because Adriana doesn’t commit to men, she collects them. And to top everything off tonight, I just found out my sister-my younger sister-is having a baby.”

“Well, it sounds like you and Leigh from New York had a lot to talk about,” he said, looking amused but not surprised.

“Anything overly personal or otherwise inappropriate that you want to share with me?” Emmy asked.

He shrugged and waved his hands in a “what you see is what you get” sort of way. “Not really.”

“Oh, well, that’s fascinating,” Emmy said. Asshole , Emmy thought. She wasn’t the one who invaded someone else’s personal space, interrupted a phone call, and initiated conversation, was she? Emmy pulled her feet from the water and began to stand up.

“Okay, okay. My name is George. I’m in law school at UM. That guy I was playing backgammon with is my first cousin, but he’s really more like a brother. And he just told me that his girlfriend has chlamydia…and it’s not from him. Let’s see, what else? I only got into UM because my father pulled strings, and he never lets me forget it. And probably the dumbest thing I ever did was get married in Vegas one night when I was really, really drunk.”

Now this was more like it! He was no Paul in the intelligence department, but he was definitely amusing. Emmy laughed. “Like, Britney-style,” she said.

“Like, total Britney-style, right down to the annulment. Although possibly worse, since I’d just met this girl the night before.”

“Excellent.” Emmy clapped her hands and dunked her legs back in the water. “So tell me, George, what do you think about-”

She stopped midsentence and stared, mouth hanging open in surprise, as George seemed to materialize in front of her. Before she had a moment to think or react, he slid his body between her legs, propped his knees up on the hot tub’s bench, and placed his lips on hers. Too surprised to do much of anything, Emmy kissed him back. Instantly, she felt that long-forgotten jolt of excitement run through her, the same one she used to feel in the early days with Duncan but hadn’t felt much after the first year. It wasn’t even there with the Australian she made out with in Curaçao-a perfectly nice experience if ever there was one, but she hadn’t lost herself enough in the moment to shut down the constant internal monologue. Here, with George, her mind was magically, blessedly blank, with a single exception: She was vaguely aware, in some deep recess of her consciousness, that she had never been kissed like that before.