I get the soba ice cream and Ian orders the sorbet. When it arrives I let the flavor coat my tongue. Even though I was full, I have a rule, “one is never too full for ice cream.”
As I’m licking the last of the ice cream from my spoon, a glamorous blonde in a tight sliver dress comes up to the table. I assume she wants to speak to Ian, but instead she smiles at me and says in a crisp British accent, “Gemma, darling, is this the FF? You chose well.”
It’s Carly. Holy cow, I didn’t even recognize her. I blush, thinking of the nudie photo I looked up.
“Carly. Hi. Hi.” Then I realize by FF she probably means the fertility fetish. She looks between me and Ian and wags her eyebrows suggestively. Oh no.
“Um. No. Carly this is Ian Fortune, my boss, the world-renowned self-help guru.”
Ian stands and holds out his hand for Carly to shake.
“Ian, this is Carly…” My mind blanks and all I can think of is “sexy nude model that I met in the pink uterus room.”
“Erm. Carly is a former model and my friend.”
“Enchanted,” Ian says.
“A pleasure,” Carly says. She holds her hand out in that delicate non-shake that looks like she wants someone to kiss the back of her palm.
Ian takes it and gives her a suave smile.
Carly winks at me and I can tell she’s having a lot of fun and that everyone is going to hear about this at our next meet-up.
“Are you having dinner?” Ian asks.
“La. We’re finished. I’m here with my husband.” She waves across the restaurant toward a man in his mid-forties. I take a second to study Carly’s kazillionaire. He has brown hair streaked with silver, he’s wearing an expensive business suit and is glowering down at his phone. He’d be handsome if he didn’t look so serious.
“That sounds nice,” I say and look back at Carly.
She lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “It’s Tuesday. We always have sushi on Tuesday. It’s our chef’s day off.” She wrinkles her nose. “Someday, I’m going to ask for a pastrami sandwich.”
Across the restaurant her husband looks up from his phone. He searches the room and when he sees Carly his glower deepens.
“Ah, my husband calls,” she says dryly. “Laters, darling.”
“Bye,” I say. For a moment I watch her elegantly glide across the room. She slides back into her seat and gives her husband a bland smile. He shakes his head and looks back down at his phone.
Ian sits back down at our table. “How do you know her? She looks familiar.”
“Oh. Through a mutual acquaintance,” I say, keeping it vague.
Ian looks back to me. “She’s lovely. But I prefer the woman I’m with.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“So, what’s an FF?”
I cough into my hand and shake my head.
“Femme fatale? No, that couldn’t be it.” Ian studies me. “Family friend? Hmm? No? How about, fortunate friend?” He watches my face and zooms in on my embarrassed expression. “Definitely friend something.”
I shake my head no and take a long swallow of ice water. When I set my glass down he’s still watching me.
Then Ian changes the subject and says, “Tell me about this ‘a lot going on right now.’ What’s keeping you from pursuing the pleasure of two souls meeting as one?”
I let out a small, choked laugh. “Is that what they call it these days?”
Ian leans toward me with a smile. “Among other things.”
I take a moment to think about my answer. “Well, like I told you earlier, I’m going through IVF. I’m not really interested in a fling.”
Ian shakes his head, considers me for a moment and then asks, “What makes you think this is a fling?”
We end up back at his place.
16
“Keep your panties on, we didn’t have sex.” I’m on the phone with my sister Leah. She called to say that she wouldn’t need me to babysit tomorrow and then asked about life. Somehow, my date with Ian came up. Probably because I wanted to avoid talking about Josh and why he came over to babysit with me last week. If she thought it was important, she’d be on it like a bloodhound on the scent.
“Gemma, are you kidding? What are you thinking getting involved with that Ken doll? Wait, I take it back, a Ken doll is less plastic than Ian Fortune.”
A taxi driver lays on his horn, a long, irritated blaring, as I cross the street in front of him. I send him a friendly wave and hop up on the curb on the other side of East Fourteenth Street.