I basically told him my life story in a matter of minutes. He said he remembered meeting my dad once and that he was sorry for my loss. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Robert told me he was the Vice President of JP Morgan. He was getting better by the minute. I thought he must be the most successful thirty-three-year-old I knew. Then the conversation shifted.
“Mia, I’m really impressed that you’re taking over your dad’s business and I think it’s cool that you have this little hobby.” He pointed to the piano. “I feel a lot better about Jacob taking lessons now.”
I knew what he meant and I can’t say I totally disagreed. He didn’t want Jacob messing around with something that would take him nowhere, but the way he said “little hobby” just irked me. I thought about telling Robert that I love music and that it’s a huge part of my life, but instead I just nodded my head and smiled. I couldn’t believe he would think a child taking piano lessons could possibly be a bad thing. I decided to overlook his little blunder and focus on the fact that he was a good-looking, successful guy with hopes and dreams for his son.
When Jacob started getting antsy, Robert said they better go. I reached out to shake his hand. He took my hand in his and held it up. For a second, it looked like he was inspecting my fingernails or debating what to do next. Then he looked right into my eyes and gently kissed my knuckles. He lingered there long enough that when he released my hand I felt the air touch a hint of moisture left from his lips.
“Maybe we can grab a bite sometime?”
“I would love that,” I said in a low voice, somewhat shocked from the gesture.
“I’ll call you.” Right as he got to the stairs he turned around. “Oh, I almost forgot, how much do I owe you?”
“Just dinner.”
He nodded. “I’ll make it worth it,” he whispered and then went jogging down the stairs.
When I closed the door, I leaned against it and exhaled audibly. I thought about the events that had just transpired. I felt giddy and excited over the prospect of going on a date with Robert, but I couldn’t help but wonder why his marriage failed. The next two days flew by. I saw Will once on Monday as we passed each other on the stairs. “What up?”
“Yo!” I said as I high-fived him. I heard him chuckle behind me as he headed out to the street.
On Tuesday, I spotted a new bottle of my spring rain body wash on the counter with a note next to it.
HEY, ROOMY, I NOTICED YOU WERE GETTING LOW. WINK My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t tell if Will was flirting or if he was being friendly or if it was the same to him, but I knew I liked it either way.
When I got home on Tuesday, he was sitting on the couch with his head back, eyes closed, listening to music and looking beautiful. “How was your day?” he said, his eyes still closed.
“Pretty good.” I loved the fact that there was always music playing in our apartment. Either it was a new playlist on the iPod, a record or CD in the stereo, or one of us was jamming away on an instrument. “This is great, who is this?” I asked.
“It’s Bon Iver; the album is amazing. He recorded the whole thing in a little cabin in the Wisconsin woods,” he said, finally opening his eyes and looking at me.
“I can tell. The resonance seems totally organic.”
Will’s head shot back. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
I sat down on the couch next to him. He reached down and scooped up my feet at the ankles, then brought my legs over his lap, turning my body in the process. I was still sitting up awkwardly.
“Lay your head back, let’s listen,” he said and I knew his intentions were pure. I put my head back on a throw pillow and closed my eyes. His hands rested on my lower legs, positioned across his thighs. During certain songs, he would gently drum the beat on my shins. Every time he did it, I couldn’t help but smile and peek up at him. His eyes remained closed; he was totally in the moment, in the music… I loved it.
We listened to the whole CD like that. Eyes closed, not saying a word. When it started to play over again, we both opened our eyes. Will looked down at me with a tiny smile touching one side of his mouth. He had peace in his eyes, or maybe it was desire.
“What’s the name of the album?” I asked.
“For Emma, Forever Ago,” he said.
Lucky girl.
“Hey, where’d you take off to Saturday morning? Jenny said you were in a suit?” I didn’t want to bring up anything that might lead into a discussion of our little gaffe on Friday, but I was dying to know about suited-up Will.
He smirked and laughed lightly. “Oh yeah, the suit. We all have matching suits. The guys from the band and I do weddings sometimes. Minus Pete of course—we just do instrumental stuff, you know? Saturday was crazy; we played for like seven hours and then partied with the bridesmaids until the maid of honor passed out and tossed her cookies all over Dustin’s lap.”
“Oh.” I felt a touch of irritation at the possible meaning of partied with the bridesmaids.
Will got up. “I’ll show you a picture.”