Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
For me personally, it’s been a matter of that connection I spoke to Virginia about. A little human touch is good for the soul. I’m not screwing all of Brooklyn, but if I was, I still sleep like a baby at night. I’m okay with who I am. Well, I was . . . until Virginia and now I’m a mess.
I do twenty jumping jacks and fifty pushups before getting in the shower to help relieve some of the pressure aka nerves. Thinking about that sexy little kneecap does the trick. I never saw it the first time we were together, so this photo teases in the best of ways of all the body parts I’ve never seen that she’s blessed with.
Extra time is spent getting ready as if this is a date. Virginia made it clear it was “almost like a date.” Highly disappointing.
On top of the “almost like a date” comment, I’m sitting here in my apartment completely dressed with nothing to do but worry about how this night and maybe the rest of the nights of my life are going to play out. Looking at the clock, it’s only five thirty. Damn, what is wrong with me?
I can’t sit here any longer. There are stops I need to make, so I grab my coat and gloves and head to the city.
Chapter Fourteen
The second I enter the shop he turns around and grabs a big box of Godiva chocolates and sets it on the counter next to the register. The health store hipster doesn’t even look up. He just knows. Like he knew I’d be back. “I knew you’d be back.”
See? He’s intuitive like that.
“I need your advice.”
When I reach the counter, he closes his romance novel with the pirates on the cover, and looks up. “The chocolate didn’t work?”
“She liked it.”
“All girls like chocolate. If she liked the other box, bring her more.”
“I’m not sure chocolate will fix this mess.”
After crossing his arms over his chest, he leans back and kicks his feet up on the counter. “Look, I’m no psychologist. I just know that we like to complicate things that aren’t so complicated. Zen. We need to get Zen with our world, become one with the things we value.”
“I’m trying, man. I’m just so fucking confused.”
“Language.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t swear. Five years ago when I decided to find true harmony with the flowers and trees, swearing had to go. Except for roses. Those bitches love a foul mouth.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Life. The journey we’re all on to find peace in our existence. You’re what? Like forty?”
Really? “Twenty-eight.”
“Whoa! Your aura is a tangled mess.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re here for chocolates. You may not have known that when you walked in, but this box,” he says, pushing it forward, “will lead you to what you need.”
“A box of chocolates?”
“Trust me.” When I pick up the box, he adds, “That will be twenty-tree ninety-five.”
“For chocolates?”
“There’s a lot more in this box than the last.”
“Whatever. Here you go and keep the change.”
“Thanks, man, and I work on Monday if you want to do a recap of your date.”
“How did you know I had a date?”
“Really?” He points at my clothes.
“Fine.” I turn for the door. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
“After twelve. I like to sleep in.”
I roll my eyes and head back out the door. With my arm in the air, I have one more stop to make before I meet Virginia, so I hail a cab. When I get in, I say, “Bendel’s please.”
He eyes me in the rearview mirror, and then nods. “Fifth Avenue. You got it.”
I walk into the store, and two ladies chatting straighten up and smile. “Can I help you?” They both ask at the same time before quick stepping around a display until they’re standing next to each other with large grins. One of their mouths tenses and she nudges the other. “My turn.”
The other one huffs and backs away. The saleswoman approaches and this time speaks in a softer tone. “How may I assist you, sir?”
I might be mistaken but when she says sir it sounds like a purr. I like it. A lot. “I need a gift.”
“For your girlfriend or wife?” I swear she bats her eyelashes at me.
But I’m too busy trying to figure out what Virginia is to me to pay much attention. “Umm . . . a friend. A lady friend. A woman friend.”
“Lovely. I see you have Godiva Chocolates. So you’re looking for something else for a birthday orrrrr?”
Damn, all of these questions were unexpected. “A gift because she doesn’t have any.”
“Any?”
“Gloves. She lost hers. So I want to get her a new pair of gloves.”
“Right this way, sir.” While we walk from this area with the handbags displayed into another with scarves and hats, she asks, “Gloves are a very thoughtful gift for a friend, but no occasion?”