Page 14 of Someone Just Like You

“No. Oh, my God. No!” My face felt like it was held over a fire like a marshmallow on a stick. My mom wasnota fan of ink. When Michelle finally exposed the long-kept secret of the snake tattoo she got in college, Mom went on a loud rampage about how Judaism prohibited body art. Never mind we were reform Jews, and I suspected my mom was covertly agnostic. The Starks, however, kept kosher in the home. Holding a surprise wedding anniversary celebration for conservative Jews at a tattoo parlor where all the guests got inked was the stuff of television sitcoms, not upper-middle-class suburban reality. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I was told Sotto 13, the restaurant, had an office at this address. Do you know anything about that?”

“Can’t say I do.” He glanced over his shoulder and took a step back as if trying to make an escape without my noticing.

I had one more ace up my sleeve before I lost him completely. “Is there an upstairs space maybe?”

He faced me again, this time with a smirk. “Upstairs is for the moredelicateareas of the body.”

A phantom pain shot through my nipples and between my legs.

His lips curled up knowingly.

My gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem.” Handing me a business card, he said, “If you change your mind about having a party here…or upstairs…let me know.” He walked away laughing.

By the time I exited the building a few seconds later, embarrassment had turned to amusement. It wasn’t every day one tried to plan a party for four sixtysomethings at a tattoo parlor. Too bad Jude had missed it.

Wait.

Why had Jude missed it? Assuming this was the address where we’dboththought the meeting was being held, shouldn’t he have been here by now too? I leaned against the brick exterior of the building.Unless…unless Jude knew the meeting wasn’t being held here. Was it possible it was a trick after all? But how? I’d spoken to the restaurant directly. Then again, this was Jude. He must have had someone on the inside and called in a favor.

Maybe I should have been impressed by the lengths he would go to—flattered he’d use up a favor to beat me—but I was mostly angry. Angry at having my time wasted yet again. Angry at Jude for winning yet again. Angry at myself for falling for his trickeryyet again.

My heart pounded harder with each beat until I remembered how I’d whipped myself into a similar frenzy only a few hours earlier. Jude might infect my mental health, but I’d be damned if I let his nefarious ways send me to an early grave by way of cardiac arrest. And maybe…just maybe…he had a legitimate excuse for being late. The answer came in a text delivered at that precise moment, once again raising my suspicions that he’d somehow planted a tracking device on my phone.

Jude:Never underestimate me, Mole.

My fingers danced over the keys to tell him to go fuck…no, NOT duck…stupid spell check…himself when another text popped up.

Jude:I’ll see you at the restaurant. The meeting doesn’t start until 7.

I put on my game face and resigned myself to another confrontation. Would he laugh in my face or act like it was no big deal again? It was hard to say. I took two steps toward the restaurant, thought better of it, and walked back into the shop.It’s not over till it’s over.

When I arrived at Sotto 13 purposely ten minutes late, I smelled no paint fumes whatsoever.Shocking. I figured Jude would assume I’d be mortified in the aftermath of yet another defeat at his hands and put effort into appearing calm and collected, like I had at Sakagura. So I played my part well. I apologized for being tardy—said I was held up at my last appointment—then I laser-focused on the restaurant’s party planner and pretended the “other guy” at the table was there on unrelated business. Jude needed to believe I was too embarrassed to make eye contact so that when I had the last laugh later, it would be all the more satisfying.

After the meeting ended, we stepped outside the restaurant and faced off on the sidewalk.

Jude crossed his arms over his chest and snickered. “Any new tattoos you care to share? I don’t see anything, but maybe you went upstairs?” He skimmed the length of my body.

My cheeks heated up when he lingered an extra second on my breasts. “I didn’t get a tit tattoo,Rude.”

The insinuation he was checking me out appeared to startle him, but he recovered quickly. “Face it, Mole. You might have made the grades, but I’m shrewd.”

I groaned. “I never said otherwise. In fact, I was just telling my friend—”

“You were talking about me to a friend? What about?” His eyes danced. “My charm? Intelligence? Oh, I know…my moves.” He checked the coast was clear over his shoulder before doing the moon walk for a few feet.

Don’t laugh.Donotlaugh. I tapped my foot in impatience, my mood somewhere between anger and awe.

A petite blond around our age exited the restaurant and pulled him into a hug.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said after they separated. Then she turned to me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but he made me do it.”

I nodded at his person on the inside. “He’s very persuasive.” As she walked down the street, I turned back to Jude to find him smirking.It’s on.

“I won’t pretend I didn’t fall for it,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible. “You knew I’d call the restaurant to confirm and set it up perfectly. But once I recovered, I realized the brilliance of actually holding the party there.”

Jude opened his mouth, presumably on the verge of bragging, when my last sentence sank in. He snapped his jaw shut. “What?”

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