The Rom Con(66)

“And what’s that?”

Before I can answer, my phone dings with a text and I glance at it.

Jack: Hey you. What are you up to?

“Is that him?” Nat asks, and I nod. “Know how I knew? You’re already smiling.”

I groan and cover my face with a hand.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Text him back!”

Me: Getting a drink with Nat. How was your day?

Jack: Confession: I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s extremely distracting, I can’t get anything done.

Me: Wow, can’t even play it cool for 5 minutes.

Jack: I thought we established that I’m a boring nerd? Playing it cool isn’t really my thing.

Me: Lucky for me And confession: I missed you today too.

Jack: I know we made plans for this weekend, but it’s too far off. How about tonight? I’ll come pick you up and take you anywhere you want.

I refuse to acknowledge Nat, who’s smirking at me over the rim of her wineglass—and I don’t even bother trying to wipe the smile off my face.

Me: I thought you had a work thing tonight?

Jack: My Cassidy thing tonight is much more pressing.

Me: I can’t be responsible for you bailing on your work obligations!

Jack: What’s the point of being the boss if you can’t bail on work? Anyway, Tom can handle it. It’s one of the perks of having a partner.

Jack: Now, is that a yes?

Me: It’s a yes, under one condition.

Jack: Name it

I bite my bottom lip, deliberating. I’m not usually so brazen, but today’s events have lit a fire under me, driven me to take the bull by the horns and step outside my comfort zone in a way I never have before. Cynthia thinks I’m a coward? I’ll show her.

Me: I want you to kiss me the second you see me.

The three typing bubbles appear for all of about one second before his reply comes across.

Jack: TEXT ME YOUR ADDRESS.





Chapter 14

The next few weeks are a blur—a blissful, romantic blur. If I’m not at work or asleep, I’m with Jack. It’s almost strange how quickly we become inseparable, how easily we fall into a shared routine, like we’ve been together years, not days. In the past I’ve resented when friends have gone radio silent the second they start seeing someone, but I find myself understanding them in a way I never have before. When you find someone who sets your world on fire, you want to be with them as much as possible. It’s as simple as that.

Jack and I see each other almost every day, sometimes for a quick lunch, more often for a lingering dinner, and I look forward to each meal like a kid counts down to recess. Our weekends are spent doing a random hodgepodge of things—brunch in Hudson Yards, an outdoor concert in Central Park, taking in a Giants game—and despite the warnings about his demanding workload, he seems to have no problem making time for me.

While his relationship with his mom may be thorny, she clearly did something right—there’s an old-school, gallant quality to Jack’s courtship style that could only be the result of a mother’s touch. He leads me through doorways with a hand to my back; helps me into my coat; walks beside or behind me, never in front; shields me from rain; refuses to let me carry (or pay for) anything. He’s affectionate and attentive, as generous with his time as he is with his money. While it’s a bit of an adjustment dating someone with an income so disparate to mine—no restaurant is too nice and no tickets too expensive, which is about as far outside of my penny-pinching, budget-controlled lifestyle as it gets—Jack is so unassuming about it all that any self-consciousness I may have felt quickly melts away.

While I may not have his resources, I do my best to spoil him with the one thing I can give him in return: my attention. Eager to make up for my past hot-and-cold behavior, I create a revised romantic punch list and start checking things off one by one. I hide sweet (and sometimes spicy) notes around his apartment for him to find later. I snag him gifts from the steady stream of press samples that pour into the Siren offices, like an advance copy of a memoir written by an entrepreneur I know he admires. I compliment him openly and often, and ogle him shamelessly. I curate an oldies-themed Spotify playlist of our greatest hits and surprise him with it. I start monitoring sports headlines so I can converse with him semi-intelligently about his workday. I swallow my pride and give the Engagement Chicken another shot, and this time, I nail it. I even bake him a batch of my specialty break-and-bake cookies for dessert (what, you thought I’d make ’em from scratch? I haven’t changed that much).

But watching his reaction to these small acts of kindness is my favorite part. An adorable carousel of emotions plays out on his face every time: surprise (widened eyes; raised eyebrows), pleasure (a boyish grin; flushed cheeks), followed by affection (his hands on my hips dragging me closer; lingering full-body hugs; leisurely, bone-melting kisses). He’s clearly not used to people doing things for him, which could break my heart if I think about it too long. Even more surprising? How gratifying these acts of service are for me.

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

With every one of his playful texts and dimpled smiles and goodnight kisses, I feel the world shifting beneath my feet. It’s not lost on me that the man I once dismissed as undateable is now responsible for the healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in. Gran’s guidance is resonating more deeply than I ever could have imagined: Let him know you’re thinking of him. Make him feel cherished. Never stop trying to win his heart.