Shy Town Girls (4 page)

“Did I hear drinks tonight?” Ivy shouted from the
bathroom. Through the open door I could see her sitting on top of
the sink, plucking her eyebrows, her face two inches away from the
mirror.

“I was just filling Bobbie in on the fact that
living with you two clowns comes with perks---like never staying in
evenings. Unless it’s with a Redbox and bottle of wine.”

“Correction! Bottles!” Ivy emphasized.

“Or ice cream and Oreos, depending on the day.” I
couldn’t remember the last time I’d touched Oreos or ice cream, or
anything processed for that matter.

“Why don’t we go out tonight, then?” I suggested.
“It’ll be my treat! We can do dinner and drinks...or just drinks.
Yeah?”

I looked at Meryl’s and Ivy’s eager faces. “I could
use a night out to get my mind off Douchebag McGee.” I joked,
referring to Charlie. I also knew a few drinks would ease any
awkwardness and speed the bonding process between me and the other
girls.

“Yes!” Ivy jumped off the counter and did a little
dance, jazz hands, black hair swaying.

“I’m in!” Ella shouted from her bedroom. Apparently
this apartment had thin walls. Meryl gave me a nod and another one
of her winks.

I whispered, “I told you, progress.”

For the next hour we did what girls do best: getting
ready. The iPod dock was blaring through the apartment. Ella and
Ivy shared every beauty tool and accessory known to womankind. They
were more like sisters than best friends, arguing and insulting
each other one moment, laughing and joking the next.

“Ella, where the hell did you put the blow dryer?” I
heard Ivy shouting.

“Wherever you left it! Can I borrow your blue
dress?”

“Yeah, if I can wear the tan Jeffrey Campbells!”

I slipped into my classic red dress and set my suede
pumps on the toilet seat. Alone in my bathroom, listening to Ella
and Ivy giggling together over their double vanity, I couldn’t help
but wonder what they were thinking about me. I was unsure of the
impression I was making. I remained quiet in my bathroom, feeling
more awkward than usual. What if three was a crowd? It probably
would be, even in a big bathroom like that. I laughed in the mirror
at my patheticness. I was a grown woman, feeling sorry for myself,
thinking like the new kid in the High School cafeteria!

I curled my hair, drew black cat eyes, put on red
lipstick to match my dress, and added a splash of Coco Chanel. My
mother’s voice always ran through my head when I was getting ready
to go out for the evening. “Classic will always trump trendy,
Roberta. Find your scent and stick to it. Don’t you ever forget how
the women of Roma dress, the women of Paris walk, and the
immaculate perfection of the Austrians. A little vanity goes a long
way, Roberta. Scusi per la mia vanita.”

“I was thinking we could go to Hugo’s. What do you
think?” I stood at the doorway to their bathroom, the first one
ready.

“Oh Bobbie, that dress rocks!” Ivy blurted. Ella
gave a nod of approval. Then she added, “And Ella and I LOVE
Hugo’s!”

“Hugo’s is big on fish, aren’t they?” Ella asked,
pouting at herself in the mirror as she dabbed color on her lips.
But it’s up to you tonight, Bobbie.” She hadn’t said much to me all
day. I studied her face for some signal of emotion, some sign of
what was going on inside. She looked at me expressionlessly, then
looked away. Our eye contact, or lack of it, felt awkward. Did she
not like fish? Or was it me she found distasteful?

“Knock, knock!” sang out Meryl. “Shall we?” She
popped her head in the door. We grabbed our coats and locked up the
apartment.

“Have fun, dollies! Tootle-loo!” Barbara’s voice
echoed down the stairway.

“She’s not coming?” I asked.

“She’s got a date with Rock Hudson,” Meryl laughed.
“She loves old movies.”

“Wait—” Ivy frowned. “Wasn’t he gay?”

Ella gave herself one last look in the hall mirror.
“Like she would even care!”

I laughed and called out goodbye to my new landlady.
I was already taken with her contagious warmth. I smiled as I
walked out the front door into the cold.

Chapter 4

“Welcome, ladies. How many?” The hostess at Hugo’s
greeted us with a big smile on her face, her eyelids coated with
dark eye shadow that was applied heavily rather than artfully.
Yikes!

“
Party of four,” said Meryl
sweetly.

“It’s going to be a bit of a wait. Can we interest
you in a drink at the bar?”

“How long’s the wait for a table?” Meryl asked as she
put on her professional face.

“About twenty minutes, but I’ll see what we can do
for you Ms. Harrington,” the hostess beamed. I realized that Meryl
was a regular here, wining and dining her clients. She was glowing
with pride as the Hugo’s hostess did all she could to accommodate
us. Hugo’s hosted a number of Meryl’s charity events, resulting in
significant donations to various foundations. Unlike the
philanthropic Meryl, I never was the charitable type; maybe because
I was too focused on keeping my life together, I didn’t have the
energy to look out for anyone else.

Ivy then stepped up, “Is Jacob Shields dining
tonight? He’s a close friend. If not, I know he’d be happy to give
us his table. Should I give him call?”

“Oh, Mr. Shields. That shouldn’t be necessary,” the
hostess’s attitude shifted. She looked at Ivy with eyes of wonder
and then leafed through her reservations list, stopping cold. She
looked up with a toothy smile. “Mr. Shields cancelled this morning
as he said he was going out of town!”

“Perfect!” Ivy lit up with self-satisfaction. With
that she swooped up four menus, whisked us over to a great
four-seater overlooking Rush Street and daintily passed the
menus.

“What was that?” I asked Ivy.

“What?” Ivy shrugged. “Jacob’s one of my bosses at
the PR firm, and he owns like half the city,” she said. “I knew he
was out of town.”

“Really?” said Ella with an arched brow. In my line
of work, I had certainly met a quite a few divas who knew how to
secure the VIP treatment, and I was proud to say one of them was my
new roommate.

As we’d walked to our table, I noticed all eyes were
on our foursome. That’s when I realized I was traveling with a
highly attractive entourage. Ella was rocking some Jeffrey Campbell
boots, making her legs look like they went on for days. Meryl wore
pale pink lace and carried a Birkin bag; and Ivy was stunning in a
black satin dress that glistened in the dim lighting. I knew my
trademark red dress flattered my figure, and my confidence was
boosted by our runway walk from the front door to our table. Being
with these girls helped keep my shyness at bay. I waved the
bartender over; he must not have been a day over twenty-one. He
smiled cutely, “What can I get you ladies?”

“St. Germaine’s and soda for me,” I said. “What are
you girls drinking? Tonight’s on me.”

“Oh no, Bobbie. You’re not buying!” Meryl tapped my
hand three times. This was her signal for me to back down.

“Nothing for me. I’m not drinking,” Ella said.

“Oh, come on Ella, just one drink,” I insisted. She
looked at me with a chilly expression, and I instantly regretted my
words.

But then she shrugged her shoulders. “Okay,” she
said, giving in. “One won’t kill me. Pinot Grigio, okay?”

I smiled with relief.

“Holy hot bartender!” Ivy shouted as the bartender
walked away. “I triple dog dare you to leave your number on a
napkin.” I did.

Our conversation finally began to flow like the
drinks I continued to order. We all had much more in common than I
had previously guessed. I discovered Ella had been a dancer for the
majority of her life, which explained her poise. I assumed she was
the kind of person who expressed herself without words. I happily
informed her that we weren’t so different. I’d been a dancer for
fifteen years but I had only stuck with my ballet career as long as
I did only because my mother had insisted that it gave me grace.
Ella’s passionate side came out as she told the stories of her past
performances. She had danced in the Joffrey Nutcracker and still
took classes at Hubbard Street. Ella urged me to come with her some
time. She was much more talkative after her first cocktail, and
although I had no desire ever to put my feet back into a pair of
ballet shoes, I thought it might be worthwhile if it helped us
bond.

Ivy went to the bathroom three times while we were at
the table. She said she had a nervous bladder. I wasn’t sure what
that meant, but her anxious energy was contagious. I couldn’t help
but laugh at her whimsical personality. She was drinking rum and
Coke—and not Diet Coke. I wondered where all the calories went in
her slim figure.

The jazzy music of the restaurant put me at ease
along with the hum of voices and clinking forks and knives. The
four of us decided to order several appetizers instead of entrees.
We picked, sipped, and chatted. I hadn’t been surrounded by so many
girls in quite some time. I was on my third drink when I found
myself revealing a side of me that I usually kept hidden.

“I might just have another drink!” Ella said.

“Easy, tiger,” Ivy warned. “Let’s relocate to Luxe
Bar for drinks. My friend Danny is working and that means free
drinks. Wahoo!”

“You mean Danny Danny? Your slampiece?” Ella
snorted.

“He wishes!” Ivy threw on her coat.

I was surprised I wasn’t tired, like I usually felt
after a few drinks, but it was hard not to be energized around the
girls. Ivy took my hand and danced into the entrance of Luxe bar,
the lights flashing, music bumping, and crowd surging. I felt
alive.

“Vodka soda!” Ella yelped down the bar, looking back
at me and giggling. She ordered the drink with the best buzz to
calorie ratio. Nice work. The bartender handed her the drink,
shooting her a seductive wink. She blushed.

“Bartender just checked you out!” I informed Ella.
She shushed me, embarrassed.

“That’s the spirit!” Ivy slapped Ella’s back, which
caused her glass to slip from her fingertips, slide down the bar
with a life of its own, and spill all over a curly-haired man
wearing a linen sport coat.

“What the—” he sputtered turning around to see the
culprit.

Ella tried to say something, but nothing was coming
out. She stood like a deer in headlights.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, apologizing for her. Ivy was
holding her stomach, cackling. Meryl was trying not to laugh,
grabbing napkins.

“Let us buy you a drink,” I said as a peace
offering. Making everyone happy had always been my role and now it
was my job—I was a professional. I knew this guy couldn’t turn down
four pretty women. We officially had the attention of everyone
around the bar. I felt like I should have been embarrassed by my
friends, but I wasn’t.

“Is your friend okay?” Tacky Linen Sport Coat Guy
asked me, nodding at Ella, who still stood frozen. Ivy pinched her
butt. She quickly snapped back to reality.

“I’m really sorry,” she stammered. “Do you need more
napkins?”

“It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world,” he
smiled at her reassuringly. “You know about dry cleaners, right?
I’m Steven.” He reached his hand out to Ella and gazed at her a
little too long. Oh great, I thought, the perfect opportunity for
Linen Sport Coat Guy to hit on her. I was eager to hear which line
he would try. I would have bet that nine out of the ten men
standing around the bar were wishing she would spill a drink on
them.

Ella introduced him to Meryl and Ivy, evidently
hoping to pawn him off on one of them.

“Nice to meet you, Steven in linen,” Ivy said. I
chuckled. Ivy continued, “Don’t you know it’s autumn now?”

“Are you saying my coat isn’t stylish? It’s just
because I don’t have a gorgeous girl like you to dress me,” Steven
said. Oh, gag me!

“
Yeah okay, buddy. I prefer big boys
who can dress themselves,” Ivy spoke down to him like he was dog.
With a grin, she sipped her drink. The girls chuckled, and the
server brought over Steven’s peace offering drink.

“
Thank you for this,” he said.
“Maybe you girls can spill on me again some other time.”

I raised my eyebrows. Could he be any more tacky? Is
single life always this entertaining? Ella groaned as we turned to
make our way through the crowd. “I really hope he didn’t mean that
the way it sounded,” she said in a low voice.

Linen Sport Coat retreated to his booth where he and
his two friends kept sneaking glances at us. If I had to guess, I’d
say his friends were financial analysts, and Tacky Sport Coat Guy
was working for an insurance company. A server brought over a
bottle of champagne. “From the men at the booth.” I gave them a
wave, praying they wouldn’t come over.

Ivy poked at her phone. “Ugh. How do I delete this
stupid horoscope app!?”

I was definitely buzzed as I turned to the group and
asked, “What’s your sign?”

Ivy looked at me from under her eyelashes, “Really?
That’s like a question someone would ask on eHarmony.”

“
How would you know what’s on
eHarmony, loser?” Ella giggled at herself.

I continued, “I used to date this crazy guy in
college named Francis who used to tell me my daily horoscope; I
even let him read my cards once.”

“
What you dated a psychic? Don’t
tell me you’re into that zodiac hocus pocus. Ella is too. Bunch of
B.S. if you ask me,” Ivy shouted over the noise.

“
This was during Bobbie’s hippie,
save the world, no showering, backpack Europe days. Francis had
dreadlocks too!” Meryl gave me a look.

“
What?! he was totally hot, for a
hippie!” I defended.“Meryl, you’re a Cancer, like me. We’re
supposed to come off as shy, yet honest. When we are uncomfortable,
like crabs we retreat into our respective shells.”