Page 69 of Come Back to Bed
“You didn’t return it.”
“Never got around to it.”
“Been keeping busy, have you?”
“No more than I can handle.”
I turn my back to him, and he brushes my loose hair over one shoulder. He zips me up, slowly. So slowly, that my stupid knees nearly give out. When he’s done, he doesn’t move away from me. I can still feel his breath on my neck. I shake my hair out, because I’m doing the big sexy hair thing tonight, and because I need to not feel naked when I’m with the only man on earth who has seen every inch of my adult bodyandthrown my snot-filled Kleenexes into the waste bin.
I take a deep breath. “To be clear…”
“This isn’t a date. I know. I’m just curious about this party.”
“Awesome,” I say, holding my hand up. I point to the palm of my hand with my two middle fingers in a V. “Here’s the same page. Here’s both of us on it. High five.” I remove my fingers from the center of my palm. “Don’t leave a neighbor hangin’.”
He wrinkles his brow at me but indulges me by slapping my hand.
I am determined for that to be the lamest thing I say and do all night.
Turns out tonight’s the night I exclusively say and do lame things that make me cringe. For instance, when the Lyft driver tells us to “have a good night, you guys,” I immediately explain to him that Matt and I are just neighbors who aren’t dating.
“I’m here because I’m working. I mean, I don’t work at the restaurant. I mean, I’m not an escort. He’s not paying me to come here with him. My boss is. I mean, my boss is hosting the party here, which I organized, and Matt’s just here because he’s curious. Not bi-curious. I mean, maybe he is, I can’t speak for him.”
“You want to get out of the car now and let this guy get on with his night?” Matt’s standing on the curb, patiently holding the door open and holding his hand out to help me out of the car. Or maybe to strangle me.
I take his hand and Matt shuts the door just as the driver speeds off.
I see two of Sebastian’s colleagues walking into the restaurant, immediately let go of Matt’s hand to wave to them. They pause at the door to say “hi” to me and wait for me to introduce them to Matt, because they’re gay and apparently they also think he looks exceptionally hot in a blazer. Matt is polite and friendly and casually introduces himself as my neighbor before I get a chance to.
When I walk into this chic but cozy NoHo bistro and realize there are already over a hundred people here, I am stunned, because normally I would be the first to arrive. We bought out the ground floor dining area as well as the downstairs lounge for this event, and I’ve been in such close contact with the manager all week that she invited me to her birthday drinks next month. But I was so consumed with thoughts of Matt that I didn’t even notice it’s 8:25.
Some breezy contemporary French pop song is playing, and people are seated at the small tables and at the bar that extends all along one side of the room, many stand around chatting. It’s festive and unpretentious, which is the vibe that we strive to maintain at all of the parties Sebastian has hosted. Somehow, people seem to have figured out how to show up and have a good time at a party without me. So that’s reassuring. Now I just have to try not to ruin anything.
Normally, I’d approach Sebastian to make sure he’s calm and has everything he needs. Tonight, I see him watch me walk in. He’s near the front of the room, talking to his agent and several of his biggest supporters, but suddenly I have all of his attention. First, he scans the full length of my body in this dress. Next, he takes note of Matt. While Matt is a master of controlling his facial expressions, Sebastian’s face shows every single thought and emotion when he has them. He likes me in this dress. He doesn’t like that Matt’s hand is touching the small of my back. But while it has been my job to know what he wants even before he knows he wants it, I am currently at a loss as to whether or not I should go over to talk to him now or let him process his feelings.
Fortunately, I don’t have to make a decision. Unfortunately, I’m the one who doesn’t know how to process her feelings. Sebastian excuses himself from his friends and walks towards me, smiling. He approaches me and pulls me in for a hug. This is the kind of thing that has happened exactly zero times before.
“At last, Bernadette,” he says in my ear. “I was beginning to worry about you.”
“I’m so sorry I’m late—traffic was…”
“I’m glad you made it,” he cuts me off, but looks directly at Matt. “Hello, I’m Sebastian.”
This is also something that doesn’t usually happen.
Sebastian Smith waits for other people to introduce themselves to him.
“So nice to meet you,” Matt says, offering a firm hand shake. “Matt McGovern. I’m Bernadette’s neighbor, we spoke on the phone.”
They spoke on the phone?
“Ah yes, Dolly Kemp’s nephew. Good to meet you. Thanks for taking care of my girl here.” He puts his arm around my shoulder.
His girl?
“It was my pleasure.”
As soon as I register how these two men are staring each other down, my brain automatically switches to business mode. “Is everything okay here, Sebastian, do you need me to do anything?”
