The Good Life (22 page)

“What’d you do that for?” Jake asked.

I shrugged. “It’s the little gestures that can really make a person’s day.” I didn’t mention that GLL Challenge #3 was to do something nice for a stranger.

After McDonald’s, we stopped at the gas station to fill up … on candy. It would be criminal to go on a road trip without gummy bears.

Jake did most of the driving while I was in charge of entertainment. The eight hour drive went by quickly, thanks to my expertise in road trip playlists and conversational games. He was so easy to be around, especially when we were just hanging out and acting like friends and not having any dramatic meltdowns.

We arrived in NYC (aka My Soulmate) at around 4pm. I moved to the driver’s seat to give him a drive-by tour of some of Manhattan’s most popular spots. We drove through Times Square, downtown and the former site of the World Trade Center, as well as Battery Park and the Statue of Liberty, Grand Central, Rockefeller Center, and Central Park.

I know this sounds ridiculous, but being back in The City made me feel like a completely different person. In Ann Arbor I was pathetic and whiny, but NYC gave me a confidence I’d never been able to find anywhere else. No job? Big deal. No husband? Big deal. New York does that to people. It’s like a drug. It makes people happy.

Jake was having a good time, too. He did non-stop clicking on his camera during the drive-through tour and also had a permanent smile on his face.

By the time we’d driven around the island, I was starving and ready to get out of the car. We had a double room reserved at The Plaza Hotel. I’d tried getting us a room at the Soho Grande or Tribeca Grande, but they were booked. The Plaza would have to do (sniff sniff). It was probably better that we stayed on the Upper Side anyway – less chance of running into Caleb up there. The last thing I wanted was for Caleb or his lawyer or any of his friends to see me with Jake. It wouldn’t look good, especially since I was there to try to get more money from him.

I was used to being a spoiled princess, so I walked into the hotel with my head held high and acted as if I belonged there. When we got into the room, I lied down on my stomach on one of the beds and checked out the room service menu.

“What do you feel like for dinner?” I asked him. “We can go out, eat downstairs or order room service or delivery.”

“Um …” he looked dumbstruck by all of it. He wouldn’t have been any less obvious if he had the word “tourist” tattooed on his forehead. “You’re the one who knows what you’re doing. You decide.”

I rolled over onto my side and propped my head up on my wrist. “I’m way too hungry right now to bother getting ready to go out so I vote for room service.”

He agreed to room service for dinner as long as we could go out later on so he could take some pictures of the city at night. We were driving home tomorrow after the meeting so he only had one night in New York. I wanted to stay longer (like forever), but I was only supposed to use Caleb’s travel expense account for divorce-related stuff, like meetings and court. I didn’t think it would be right to stay longer than I needed to and bill him for it.

“I love room service,” I told Jake once the food arrived and I was digging into a bunch of yummy carbs. We each sat cross-legged on our own beds while we ate. “Sometimes it’s nice to be able to enjoy a fine cooked meal while wearing cutoff shorts, yesterday’s makeup and a ponytail. Don’t you think?”

“I would rather die than wear cutoff shorts,” he said like a smartass. “But yeah, this steak is great. I can see how you got sucked into this world.”

“I didn’t get sucked in,” I said, defensively. “It’s not some kind of cult, Jake. I chose to live here. And even though my marriage didn’t work out, I don’t regret moving here. This is where I belong.”

“I didn’t mean the city sucked you in. I was talking about all of the rich people stuff. Like this hotel. And room service. You seem like a completely different person when you’re here. I feel like I don’t even know you right now.”

Hmm. He was right. He really didn’t know this version of me. “Do you want to know me?”

He set his fork on his plate and looked at me thoughtfully and then shrugged. “I’m not sure.” That’s Jake. Always honest.

When we were done getting ready for the night, I took Jake on a photography/barhopping night in NYC. My annoyance with him and the comment he’d made about not wanting to know me left me confused and frustrated. I took my frustrations out on my hair and face. A person can always tell what kind of mood I’m in by the amount of makeup on my face. If you see black eyeliner, walk the other way.

I put on my new hot pink peep-toes, the ones I’d bought at Barney’s the day Caleb told me he wanted a divorce. I hadn’t been able to wear them yet, and this city was made for shoes like these. People in Ann Arbor wouldn’t know the difference between a Louboutin and a Balenciaga while some women in New York could name your shoe designer from three blocks away.

I introduced Jake to the world of NYC transportation by using both taxis and the subway. I also showed him all about overpriced drinking. We went to bars in Chelsea, Murray Hill, the Meatpacking District and waited thirty minutes to get up on the garden rooftop bar at 230 Fifth where he
oohed
and
ahhed
and snapped like I knew he would.

By the time we got downtown to see Hope at her martini bar, we were both pretty buzzed. She didn’t know I was coming and screamed out loud when she saw me.

“Who is this stunning young man you’ve brought into my bar?” was the first question. No hi, how are you, what are you doing here – just who is the guy.

“Hope, this is Jake. Jake – Hope.”

“Oh,” she said with a nod of recognition. “The roommate slash ex-boyfriend slash lifelong friend of the family who you accidentally had sex with?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “More than once.”

“Nice going!” she said in approval. Jake was standing right next to me and even though the music was loud, Hope was also loud, so I was pretty sure he could hear the conversation. Especially when he looked at me with that shit-eating grin I loved to hate.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink,” she said, pulling me over to the bar. “You look great. You look young and happy, like the old fun Roxie again. How’s the list?” she asked while she shook up some watermelon juice martinis.

“It’s fine,” I said. I gave her a look that I hoped she would understand. It meant not to talk about the list right now.

She looked back at me like she didn’t understand. “There’s a photo booth over there,” she said. “You know, in case you need one.”

Ah ha. GLL Challenge #6 – Get your photo taken in a photo booth … Topless. And GLL Challenge #7 – Give the photo to someone.

“I got this,” I said. “Take care of my guy for me, will you? Don’t let him get lost.”

For the first two shots in the photo booth I tried to look sweet and innocent. For the third one, I flashed the camera and gave my best supermodel expression. In the fourth one, I was sweet and innocent again
. Jake is going to love it
, I thought, as I stepped out of the photo booth proudly. He loves the sweet and innocent girl turned naughty kind of stuff.

I handed it to him at the bar right in front of Hope who gave me a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t go topless for all of Facebook,” I told him, “but I’ll go topless for you.”

“You’re a tease,” he said smiling. “You can’t tell me you never want to have sex with me again and then give me a picture like this.”

I took it from his hands and stuck it in my purse for safekeeping. “I never said I didn’t want to. I just said I wasn’t going to.” Were we really having this discussion in public? In a loud bar where I needed to raise my voice to be heard?
I must be drunk
. As if passing around a topless photo of myself wasn’t my first clue.

“Maybe you can explain the difference to me later,” he said with a smirk. “After sex.”

I playfully punched him in the arm. “Not happening. Can we stop talking about it?”

He laughed out loud. “You’re opposed to uncomfortable conversations when you’re on the other side of them, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you having fun?”

He smiled at me and took my hand in his. “You know I am.”

I pulled my hand away. Being drunk around him was no good. When I was sober I could try to keep myself in check, but when I was drunk, the game was over. We needed to sober up a little before we went back to the Plaza, and we weren’t going to do it in a bar. Air. We needed air.

“We should probably start heading back,” I yelled over the music. “I’ve got that meeting in the morning.”

He nodded and took my hand again. I let him keep it this time since it was easier to get out of the crowd that way.

When we were back on the street I asked him if he got the pictures he wanted.

“I would have gotten better ones if I’d had my tripod, but I didn’t want to carry a bunch of gear around all night.”

I got an idea. “Hey, I know where we can go! The condo is only a few blocks away. You can set the camera down on the balcony and get some awesome pics. I still have my key and we haven’t rented it out yet.”

I started walking faster out of excitement. I couldn’t wait to show Jake my beloved terrace and its incredible panoramic views. Maybe then he could get to know the New York me.

He kind of pulled my hand back a little though.

“What?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you sure? It won’t make you upset or anything?”

“No way,” I answered quickly. “I love my condo. I can’t wait to show you the views.”

I realized as soon as I opened the door that someone was living in the condo, the condo that I was still paying half the payments for each month. The empty beer bottles on the coffee table and dirty dishes on the counter gave it away. My first thought was that Caleb had rented it out and forgotten to tell me, in which case I intended on leaving immediately and praying that the tenant never found out I’d walked into his or her apartment, especially since there were noises coming from the bedroom that were of a private nature, if you know what I mean.

Caleb was as anal-retentive as they came. He wouldn’t ordinarily leave beer bottles and dirty dishes around. He preferred neat and orderly to chaotic and disorganized. Every night when he came home from work he took off his shoes, polished them with a special rag and lined them up evenly and neatly next to the other shoes on the mat. When I looked down, there they were; shiny and sharp and lined up as always.

I should have left. But I didn’t. I headed toward the bedroom. Jake put a hand on my shoulder to stop me but my adrenaline had kicked in and there
was
no stopping me. I moved fast and burst into the bedroom without warning. Afterward, I really wished I had knocked.

The first thing I saw was a blonde head, a cheerleader’s uniform and some pom-poms. Next, I saw a person sitting on the bed wearing nothing but a black, furry bear mask.

It all happened so quickly, but I
really
thought I had walked in on Rebecca Dunbar going down on my husband while he sat on our bed dressed as a bear. I mean,
that
would be kind of weird, right? And most likely traumatizing. And certainly vomit-inducing to the current-but-soon-to-be-ex wife who drank seven cocktails in the last four hours.