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His jaw tenses, and I know that sign.
“Please,” I say in desperation. “Turn me into a great date, a more dynamic big city kind of woman! I think I’m missing something, and its likely more than experience.”
Lorenzo looks nervous, and reluctant for whatever reason.
“What?” I ask, half drunk. “How else will I meet the one?”
I know he can do it, if anyone can. He knows women, and he can help reshape me. My hobbies. My look. My style. Everything…
“Turn me into the hotter or cooler me,” I say.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Lorenzo says, turning those dark eyes on me.
“Please,” I plead standing closer.
“Look, there is nothing wrong with you. You’re a nice sweet… girl!”
“I don’t want to be sweet. I don’t want to be a girl. I don’t want to be nice. I do not want to always fall into the friend bucket. Please, Lorenzo. As a friend.”
Lorenzo walks to the end of his roof, and he stops near one of the stone eagles on the corner. I watch him, and I finish my third large whiskey.
I’ve tried meeting guys online, ever since I arrived. Weeks and weeks, and no sign of hope. Sure, there may be a sea of models and hotties in NYC, but I need help.
And I need it fast.
Just when I start to give up, Lorenzo turns, and he sees a tear run down my chin. He walks forwards and slowly he nods.
Suddenly I grab him, and cling to him. I hold him tight, and the big grump feels warm, strong and caring. I kiss him fast, excitedly.
He holds me for a few seconds, clears his throat, and lets me go. I look back up at him, and the grump is almost blushing.
“We’re going to need a name,” Lorenzo says coldly.
“We are,” I smile, getting into it. “But not Frankenstein,” I say quickly, “as in you know rebuilding someone.” I laugh loud, and Grumpy shakes his head.
I leap up next to the eagle statue, and I yell loud like a madwoman across the skyline. Lorenzo shakes his head, and he stands closer.
I wink at him, and I’m fast. Quickly, I yank his whiskey from his hand, and I knock it back. I will finally have a chance with men.
That’s when I see Lorenzo’s face. He does not look happy. He looksworried.
10
LORENZO
My instincts tell me it’s wrong, but the next evening we start on Storm’s project. It’s Saturday night, and as I have no social life, it is what it is.
My primary concern is this, and it all comes back to it.
If I do not man up, help Storm, plus warn her about guys, she will be screwed over, and by one guy, after another. She will then leave NY, a shell of a woman, and she will return to South Carolina broken.
The idea of that, is unacceptable, and I feel protective. In saying that, turning a sweet, innocent, young Storm into a more sophisticated woman, for lack of a better way to put it, is going to be the most screwed up project I’ve ever been involved with.
I don’t like the idea of tampering with the natural flow or evolution of anyone, but the idea howeverturns me on.
In atwisted way.
I’ve manipulated many women, but that was in making them come, and unravel.
