Maneater: A Short Story Page 2

  “Good news,” she announced.

  “Well, I know it can’t be about our sneako because I haven’t finished the final sketch yet. So what’s the good news?”

  “My friend Amy is throwing an awesome New Year’s Eve party tonight and–”

  “No, no, no, no. You know I hate parties.”

  “But you need to go. You need to get back in the saddle before you do what you always do when you break up with a guy: obsess over everything that went wrong with your relationship and fantasize about how you could’ve fixed it until you’re an unfocused hot mess. Amy said there will be a lot of hot guys there, who all just wanna have a little fun. What’s wrong with a little fun, especially after a huge work success?”

  “Look, I’m not like you, okay? I just can’t . . .” Natalie struggled to find a nice way to say Jenna had been around the block plenty of times. “Casual sex isn’t enough for me like it is for you. I need the relationship and all the good stuff that goes along with it, you know, the hand holding, the cuddling, the tender kissing, the–”

  “Enough already! You sound like some lame chick flick. Yuck!”

  Natalie smiled.

  “Well, will you at least come to keep me company?”

  “Oh, please. You aren’t gonna need me to keep you company. You’re gonna have all kinds of . . . friends there in all sorts of different ways.”

  Jenna shot her a playful dirty look.

  “You just wanna get me there, so you can set me up with some guy.”

  “You know me well. But come with me anyway. You might meet a guy who you’ll spark up a friendship with, then who knows? Maybe he’ll be your next boyfriend.”

  “If I go, will you get off my back?”

  “Yes, but I reserve the right to nag you again if I find out tomorrow you didn’t get even so much as a kiss tonight.”

  Natalie laughed. “Okay, I’ll go.” She grabbed her coat and purse. “Can we go to lunch now?”

  “Yeah, but let’s go some place healthy. I’ve got this tight little black dress from Macy’s that I plan on wearing to the party tonight. It looks great, but doesn’t have any give, if you know what I mean.” They laughed as they walked out of Natalie’s office.

  ***

  After they returned from lunch, they still weren’t able to get any work done, so Natalie and Jenna left an hour early to go to the Saks Fifth Avenue at The Prudential Center. They were in search of a dress for Natalie to wear to the New Year’s Eve party. Jenna waited outside of the dressing room, texting, while Natalie tried on dresses.

  “So what do you think of this one?” Natalie stepped out of the dressing room in a baggy green sweater dress that camouflaged her lithe figure.

  Jenna stared at her in disgust. “What the hell are you wearing, a muumuu?”

  Natalie looked down at the dress. “The dress doesn’t look that bad.”

  “Yeah, for Roseanne Barr maybe, but you’re a hottie. Dress like it. And you need to start acting like it, too. You’re an amazing, bad-ass bitch and don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”

  Natalie gave a weak smile: she appreciated the compliment, but knew it wasn’t true. “I’ll try on one of the others I brought in with me.” Natalie headed back into the dressing room, and Jenna resumed her texting.

  “So who are you texting?” Natalie asked.

  “This guy I’ve been fooling around with.”

  “Guy or guys?” joked Natalie.

  “You bitch,” chuckled Jenna. “Actually, though, it sorta is guys. I’m trying to see if my friend can bring one of his cute friends to Amy’s party for you.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. You really don’t have to. I’m perfectly fine with going stag.”

  “Is it going stag if we’re going together?” wondered Jenna.

  “Good question. I don’t know.” Natalie came out of the dressing room wearing a gray sweater dress that was more form fitting than the dress she’d worn before. “What do you think of this one?”

  “Much better,” Jenna noted as she looked her over. “Especially in the hips and breasts areas. Now it looks like you actually have them.”

  “Shut up!” Natalie playfully hit Jenna. “So you think this is the one?”

  “Uh, no. I said it was much better than that other thing you were wearing. Here, let me come in here with you, and I can help you pick out the right dress.” Jenna stepped into the dressing room and looked at the other dresses Natalie had brought in with her. “Blah, blah, and even more blah,” she said, pointing at each dress as she described it.

  “What’s wrong with these dresses?”

  “Sweetie, we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, not your grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. Don’t you wanna wear something with a little more razzle-dazzle?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not really all that flashy. It–”

  “Why don’t you stay here and let me pick something out, okay?” Jenna took off before Natalie could answer. Natalie hoped Jenna kept in mind she was shopping for Natalie and not herself.

  Jenna came back a few moments later with several different dresses, and it was just as Natalie had feared: Jenna only brought back skin-tight, revealing dresses that Natalie would never in a million years wear.

  “No,” Natalie said, looking at the dresses Jenna had in her hands.

  “No? You haven’t even looked at any of them.”

  “I can see them just fine from here. I mean, look at that pink one.” Natalie was talking about the pink sequined halter dress. “First of all, you know I hate the color pink, and second, it’s way too skimpy.”

  “Okay, but what about this one? This one’s not pink.” Jenna held up a black feather-trimmed beaded dress. Natalie liked the dress, but she was uncomfortable with how skimpy it was. She wasn’t going to have sex tonight, and she didn’t want any guy to think she was going to, either. She didn’t believe in hooking up at parties. Well, not anymore, anyway.

  “I see that look in your eyes. You wanna try it on,” Jenna said, smiling. She handed her the dress and exited the dressing room, so Natalie could change. Natalie came out a few minutes later, feeling tense and troubled. She hadn’t worn anything this revealing since discovering her condition.

  “You look amazing,” Jenna said. “If I were a guy, I’d have a tent in my pants right about now. You just need to work on your confidence. Let’s go back in here.” Jenna guided Natalie back inside the fitting room, toward the mirror. “See? See how amazing you look?” Natalie stared at her reflection in the mirror: the dress did look good on her, but she still felt uneasy wearing it.

  “Maybe I should take another look at the sweater dresses.”

  Jenna let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine, go ahead.”

  Natalie decided to go with a silver sequined sweater dress, with silver platform pumps and a metallic python spiked clutch. A nice compromise between her conservative look and Jenna’s more ostentatious look, she thought. While they were at Saks, Jenna picked up a pair of black satin lace-up ankle boots to go along with her dress for the party.

  ***

  As Natalie waited for Jenna to finish getting ready for the party, she checked her smartphone again for messages and calls from Ben, but much to her chagrin, he still hadn’t left any more.

  “Will I be the hottest bitch at this party, or will I be the hottest bitch at this party?” Natalie turned to see Jenna: she was wearing a black sleeveless one-shoulder sequined dress. Her long black hair had been blown out, her make up had been done to highlight her sky-blue eyes and high cheekbones, and the boots she had gotten from Macys made her legs look long and lean.

  “You will definitely be the hottest bitch at this party. Ready to roll?”

  “Ready.”

  “We’re taking my car.”

  “Why, mine’s better.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll ditch me at the party as soon as you find a hot guy to hook up with.”

  “When have I ever–okay, you’re right. I can’t even s
ay I haven’t with a straight face. Let’s roll.” Natalie locked arms with Jenna, and they walked out the door.

  ***

  Amy lived in a moderate-sized house with her fiancé, Rob, in West Fenway. When Natalie met them, she thought it made perfect sense that they were friends with Jenna: Amy was a party planner, who not only had a really wild streak but she literally streaked when she got drunk, and Rob was an adventure photographer, who was heavy into weed. He offered Natalie and Jenna some when they first got there, with Natalie, of course, refusing and Jenna, of course, accepting.

  “See, isn’t this fun? Aren’t you glad I made you come?” Jenna asked.

  Natalie nodded and feigned a smile. She knew Jenna was only trying to be there for her, but she would much rather be at home catching up on her favorite shows with a box of macarons and a glass of Chardonnay.

  “I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” announced Jenna. “What do you want, Chardonnay?”

  Natalie nodded. “That’s my drink.”

  As Jenna made her way to the kitchen, Natalie took in her surroundings: it was crowded, which Natalie liked, as it made it easier for her to blend into the background and go unnoticed, although seeing people connect made her feel wistful. Tonight, she was supposed to be celebrating her and Ben’s three-year anniversary. She wondered what Ben was doing right now, whether he was thinking of her, and whether he was feeling the same way she was feeling. Yes, he’d cheated on her, but it wasn’t as though she wasn’t partly to blame for that because of her condition. He’d been a good boyfriend in every other way, and despite what she’d tried to convince herself, she did miss him. She decided to call him. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and dialed his number. He still hadn’t answered when someone yanked her phone out of her hand.

  It was Jenna. She was flanked by two cute guys. “No, Nat.”

  “I was just—”

  “I know what you were just, so how about just don’t instead? Here.” She replaced Natalie’s phone with a glass of Chardonnay.

  “What about my phone?”

  “I’m keeping it, so you don’t do anything stupid.” She pushed Natalie toward one of the guys. “Nat, I want you to meet Tom. Tom, this is my best friend, Natalie.” Tom was tall and broad shouldered with dark good looks. He wore a gray sweater that perfectly displayed his chiseled torso and a pair of jeans that perfectly displayed his cute butt. He was sans cologne, which Natalie appreciated, as the smell burned her nose. He was perfect physically, which meant he was probably dumber than a box full of rocks. Leave it to Jenna to fix her up with a meathead.

  “Jenna, can I have a word with you in private?” Natalie asked in an almost-threatening tone.

  “About what?”

  “Are we in private?” She grabbed Jenna by the arm and dragged her toward the kitchen.

  Jenna yelled out to the guys, “We’ll be right back! Nat just wants to tell me how cute she thinks you are, Tom!” as she was being led away. Once they were in the kitchen, Jenna turned to Natalie: “So what’s the hubbub, bub? Why were you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

  “Why are you trying to fix me up with Mr. Dumbbell?”

  “Mr. Dumbbell? Don’t be ridiculous. He went to Harvard, and he runs his own advertising business. Plus, he’s pretty cute, too, right? Right?” Jenna said, nudging Natalie.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty cute,” Natalie conceded grudgingly, with a smile.

  “So live a little, have some fun, take advantage of him, use him in every nasty little way you can think of, then get rid of him. It’s exactly what you need after a long-term relationship.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look, no one’s saying you have to marry him. Just talk to him and see how things go. Come on. Let’s get back out there before any of these other bitches start sniffing around our guys.” Jenna dragged Natalie back into the living room, where Tom and Jenna’s date were.

  “So I must be really cute, huh?” said Tom.

  “I’m sorry?” Natalie said, not quite following.

  “You and Jenna left to talk about how cute I was, remember? You guys were gone for a while . . . it was a joke.”

  “Oh. Funny,” Natalie lied. She took a sip of her Chardonnay.

  “So are you from around here?” Tom asked her.

  “No, I’m actually from Rhode Island.”

  “So why did you come here? To go to college?”

  “Yes, I moved here to go to college and never left.” She took another sip of her Chardonnay.

  “Are you all done now or . . .?”

  “I beg your pardon?” How dare he? She’d only had a few sips of wine.

  “I meant, are you all done with college now, or are you still going?”

  Natalie blushed, a little embarrassed. “Oh. Yeah. All done for a while now. You?”

  “No, I never went to college.”

  “Really? Jenna said you went to Harvard.” Natalie began to wonder what Jenna had gotten her into.

  “Oh no, I just say that to hook the ladies. I actually just got of prison.” Natalie turned to go find Jenna and chew her out for setting her up with a felon.

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Tom said, taking her by the hand, so she wouldn’t leave. Natalie normally didn’t care for men being this physically forward with her right out the gate, but she liked the sensation of his big, manly hand on hers. “You just seemed a little uncomfortable. I was just trying to break the ice by being funny, but apparently, I’m not very good at it. Let’s start over. My name is Tom, and I actually did go to Harvard, graduated Summa Cum Laude.” She was pleasantly surprised when he kissed her hand.

  “Well, I’m Natalie, and I went to Boston College. So what brings you here, Tom? I mean, you’re not exactly Quasimodo. Why do you need to be set up on a blind date?”

  “Well, I’m a workaholic. I work so much I barely do anything else and now . . . well, now, I don’t really have anybody, and I’d really like to.” He let out a little nervous laugh. “So here I am, at a party, on a blind date, trying to get to know the prettiest woman here. Pretty embarrassing, huh?”

  “Not at all.” Natalie put a reassuring hand on his forearm. “What do you do for a living? Jenna tells me you run your own advertising agency.”

  “Yeah. Hillman advertising.”

  “My company uses you guys. Eurydice, that’s the company.”

  “Yeah, Jenna said you guys worked at Eurydice. What do you do there?”

  “We’re designers. I actually just designed a new shoe for women. It’s called the sneako. I know it sounds kinda lame, but it’s actually really cool. It combines a typical running shoe with a stiletto.”

  Natalie and Tom talked for hours and hours about themselves: Tom was an only child and originally from Boston (grew up in Beacon Hill). His dad was a litigator, and his mom owned an Italian restaurant called Parrino’s (her maiden name). He’d gone to East Boston Central Catholic School until he was in the eighth grade then to the Newman School for high school. His mom had originally wanted him to go to a catholic high school, but told him he could go to Newman if he went to church twice a week to make up for it. Every summer his family on his father’s side would gather at the family compound on Nantucket for one weekend for a family reunion, and every Christmas, they would go to Telluride to ski. He played a pick-up game (whatever that was) on the weekends with his friends and regularly volunteered at The Boston Children’s Hospital after a former girlfriend got him involved with it. Wanting to do something major before he turned thirty (he was now thirty-two), he’d opened his own advertising agency at the age of twenty-nine and devoted most of his time to making sure it was a continued success. Natalie was an only child as well, originally from Central Falls, Rhode Island. She was an avid reader and a level-four Ashtanga Yoga practitioner, and she regularly attended wine-tasting events.

  Natalie and Tom also drank for hours and hours, and before she knew it, it was ten seconds before the New Year. Everyone was counting down, and when the clo
ck struck midnight, she and Tom kissed. And it wasn’t out of desperation for someone to kiss on New Year’s, either; it was a genuine and passionate kiss between two people legitimately attracted to each other. Natalie broke the kiss when she felt Tom’s erection pressing against her abdomen.

  “Looks like the party is starting to wind down, but I’m up for more at my place.” Tom was looking at her with lust in his eyes and single-malt scotch on his breath. She was afraid something like this would happen.

  “I would like to. I really would. But I can’t. I . . . I have to be at work, first thing in the morning,” Natalie said, avoiding his gaze.

  “On New Year’s?”

  Natalie grimaced; even drunk, she should’ve been able to come up with a better blow off than that. “I can’t go home with you. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, can I at least get your number?”

  Damn. Why did he have to be interested in more than just sex? It only made it that much harder for Natalie to refuse to give it to him. It’s not that Natalie didn’t like Tom; she liked him a lot and wanted to give him her number more than anything in the world, but she knew what she had to do.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not really interested in you.”

  “What? But you just kissed me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Natalie said, and then scurried away to find Jenna.

  “Natalie! Natalie, wait!” Tom yelled as she moved away from him. He took her by the hand again to stop her. She allowed him to for a moment, not knowing how long of a wait she’d have before another man tenderly touched her, then shrugged him off.

  Natalie looked for Jenna in the living room and the kitchen, but couldn’t find her. A fellow partygoer informed her that Jenna had gone home with her guy friend, just as Natalie had suspected she would. She just wished that Jenna had remembered to give her phone back before she’d left, but she’d probably been too drunk, too high, and too horny to remember. Well, at least someone was getting it in.