Chapter 15
Vanessa
Me: Hey! Heads up: Tomorrow is Jason’s bday.
Lisa: I know. Are you two going on a date?
Me: No, I have something else in mind.
Lisa: Something messy?
Me: Of course.
Lisa: And?
Me: And what?
Lisa: Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?
Me: I’d rather you have plausible deniability.
Lisa: Should I get him something?
Me: Have you gotten him a gift before?
Lisa: No.
Me: Might be weird to start now.
Lisa: Maybe I’ll send him a text.
Me: Sounds good. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Lisa: OK.
As I wait at the Midtown rendezvous point near Jason’s worksite, I remind myself that my plan is solid by cataloging a few facts about him:
One, he’s not a big fan of public displays of affection.
Two, he’s a bit of a grump at work, in part because he’s younger than many of his employees and thinks he needs to be Mr. Serious to get their respect.
Three, he’s not an attention-seeker. It’s not that he wants to fade into the background; he’s simply not interested in being at the forefront of anything.
What I’m planning will make him want to murder me. It’s so delicious, I can hardly wait to see how it comes together. And if this prank doesn’t send him scurrying into Lisa’s arms, I’ll give up my vibrator for a year. No, a week. A week makes the same point, right?
“Ms. Cordero,” a voice behind me says.
I spin around and survey the white man I suspect I’ve been speaking with on the phone the past few days. “Henry?”
“In the flesh.”
He reminds me of our IT guy in the Chicago office, right down to the chinos and blue V-neck sweater-vest over a slouchy T-shirt. I suppose that’s part of his deal; he’s meant to blend in with his surroundings.
“Great to meet you, Henry. Thanks for arranging this on such short notice.”
“Our pleasure. Coordinating special moments with tight turnarounds is what we do best.”
I point across the street. “There’s his makeshift office.”
Jason’s current worksite is a boutique on Fifth Avenue that’s expanding to incorporate the retail space next door.
It’s the namesake of a designer I’ve never heard of because super-high-end clothes aren’t ever a part of my discretionary budget.
I should ask Jason if he gets a discount.
Or maybe you should focus on the task at hand, Vanessa.
Turning to Henry, I ask, “Are you ready for him?”
“Sure. We’re all in position.”
“It might take me a bit to get him to the right spot, but I’ll manage it somehow.”
“No rush on our part. We’re getting paid by the hour, after all.”
“Shit, I appreciate the reminder. Time for me to hustle.”
I readjust my tote bag, then station myself along the western side of the park so I can corner Jason when he gets here.
The store’s windows are covered in brown builder’s paper, making it impossible to see inside, but I know from Jason’s partner, Eric, that the birthday boy is here for a site inspection and they’re taking a lunch break at noon.
After I explained to Eric that I wanted to celebrate Jason’s big day, he agreed to help me with my (undisclosed) surprise.
The goal is to get Jason to Bryant Park across the street. You can’t get more public than that.
The doors of the store open right on time, and a steady stream of workers carrying bagged lunches shuffles outside and heads for the park.
Jason eventually appears with Eric by his side.
They’re talking animatedly, and I spend a moment surveying Eric, who I’m seeing in person for the first time.
He’s tall, dark, and bald, and if someone told me he was related to Morris Chestnut, I’d believe them.
Next to Eric, Jason looks just as impressive.
Jesus, it shouldn’t even be legal for these two to be friends, and judging by the stares they’re getting from passersby, the general public agrees with me.
Eric points in the vicinity of where I’m standing, and then they jog across the street together. Seemingly in slow motion. Seriously, they’re like an old Baywatch commercial—minus the red rescue cans, of course.
As soon as they make it across, I step out in front of Jason, causing him to almost stumble into me.
“Vanessa,” he says, his eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s your birthday, so I thought I’d surprise you with lunch.” I pat my tote. “Are you free?”
“Well, uh, Eric and I were going to grab—”
“No, we weren’t,” Eric says. “I’m just delivering the package. Happy birthday, man.”
Jason and Eric give each other dap, then Eric grins at me.
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
“Likewise. And thanks for everything.”
“My pleasure. And I’m guessing his too.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Bye, Eric.”
“I’m out,” Eric says, waving as he saunters down the walkway adjacent to the park’s lawn.
We watch him get swallowed by the crowd, and then Jason and I face each other.
“Are you cool with this?” I ask sheepishly.
“Definitely. This is sweet of you.” He looks around. “Want to grab a table?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
Seating at the park is at a premium, but the person who conveniently rises from the black wrought-iron table a few feet away is part of the surprise.
“We’re in luck today,” I say.
“He must know it’s my birthday.”
He does, I think to myself. He absolutely does.
“I brought some sushi from Hatsuhana. Eric said you’re a fan. Hope that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay. It’s perfect.”
As I unpack my tote, Jason peeks inside the to-go containers, then looks up at me, his eyes narrowing. “You’re eating with me, right?”
“Of course.” Then I tilt my head. “Why? You think I’d poison your sushi?”
He chuckles nervously. “No, no. I just wanted to be sure.”
“I went with the salmon lovers.”
“Ah, that’s my favorite,” he says, unwrapping both sets of plastic chopsticks and handing one over to me.
Pulling out our beverages, I say, “And I’m told green tea pairs perfectly with sushi. I figured you wouldn’t want to drink on the job.”
“I’m floored by all of this, Vanessa. Truly. I didn’t want to make a big deal about my birthday, so this is just how I’d do it. Lunch with a friend and a beautiful day in the park.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
He bites into a salmon avocado roll and squeezes his eyes shut. “So good.”
I stare at his lips as he chews, then mentally smack myself upside the head. Nope, indecent thoughts are not allowed. I’m doing this for Lisa. I’m doing this for Lisa.
We chat about the expansion project he’s working on as we eat, and when we finish a few minutes later, I give the preestablished signal to begin the surprise.
It starts with a woman twirling by our table and handing Jason a rose.
“Just because,” she says.
With his mouth slack, he takes it, then mutters, “Thank you.” To me, he adds, “That was odd, wasn’t it?”
“So weird,” I say as I happily sip my tea.
Then the sounds of Kool & The Gang’s “Celebration” float over the lawn. Another woman leaps into the air and ends her startling move by kneeling in front of Jason with two roses.
“What the hell is going on?” he says to himself.
“It’s New York. Weird shit like this happens all the time.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t.”
“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. Maybe even your birthday.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “You didn’t.”
“And what if I did?”
“I’d hate you for the rest of my days.”
“Wow, then I guess I didn’t.”
Next, a guy does the robot and drops four roses on Jason’s lap. The women join him in a synchronized dance, and each time the song hits the chorus, a new group of dancers merges with the current crew, some of them tossing roses at Jason as they leap through the air.
Jason’s eyes pop open with each new wave of people, and it’s glorious. By now his employees in the park have caught on to the hijinks, and even Eric, who’s leaning against a tree trunk nearby, is watching in amusement. The spectacle is drawing a crowd, and Jason definitely notices.
“This is wild,” he says, heat staining his cheeks.
“Happy birthday.”
“I’m never recovering from this. With the people I work with, I mean.”
“I hear you need to be more approachable. This will help.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I kid you not. You’ll seem relatable this way.”
“Because I can be embarrassed like the best of them?”
“No, silly. Because you know how to have fun.”
When the song ends and Jason’s hands are filled with two dozen roses, the crowd of onlookers claps for the performers. A few of his coworkers come over and slap him on his back, and a litany of congratulatory shout-outs ensues:
“We didn’t know it was your birthday, boss!”
“Happy birthday, man!”
“?Feliz cumple, bro!”
Jason flops back in his chair and mumbles something that sounds like “Thanks.”
And now for the grand finale. I reach into my tote. “Oh, I almost forgot to give you your present!” With a flourish and a huge smile, I set it on the table. “Go ahead, open it.”
“Should I?” he says, looking at it warily and then glancing at his employees.
“Of course you should.”
Jason carefully opens the package, and his body goes rigid as he registers what’s inside.
“Let everyone see!” I say, clapping my hands like a seal.
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Aw, c’mon, boss,” an employee says. “Let us see it. She’s proud of it, man.”
So he pulls the book out of the exquisite gift wrapping I did all by myself.
One of the workers reads the title: “How to Live with a Huge…”
“Penis,” another one finishes.
Their laughter trails off as the book’s implications settle in, and then they exchange furtive glances with one another and with Jason. Seconds later, they quickly say their goodbyes, scrambling across the street like they’re running from the bogeyman.
Eric, who’s joined the fray, doubles over, and as he’s walking away, he shouts over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, she’s a keeper.”
But judging by the murderous expression on Jason’s face, if he had his choice, I’d be a goner. Now I have him exactly where I want him: a few dates away from ditching me. Perfection.