Chapter 21 Claire
Jay: Good Morning! I'm leaving in about an hour but wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed last night. It was truly An Affair to Remember. BTW, dinner was great. You're the Ina Garten of burger delivery. Looking forward to Friday night.
Jay: PS: I haven't been able to get you off my mind.
Jay: Nor have I wanted to.
The messages were short but telling. Especially the second and third texts, which she read several times.
She hadn't stopped thinking about last night either.
The sexy tone of his voice. The playful way he reached across the table, dipping his fry in her ketchup.
The look in his eyes when he kissed her hand at the door.
A look that said he wanted more. Much more.
Claire: Can I be the Bobby Flay of burger delivery? He’s my fave celebrity chef. And yes, last night was wonderful. Whoever holds the title of best foot masseuse—you’ve got him/her beat.
Sweat ran down Claire’s face as she huffed and puffed her way up the stairs.
She practically fell into her flat, her arms loaded down with two weeks’ worth of dry cleaning.
Her hands ached, on fire from the metal hangers digging into them.
Running errands on her lunch break had been standard operating procedure for months, until Jay stepped back into her life.
Now he dominated her daily lunch hour—which she loved—but things of a personal nature had taken a backseat, and she’d spent all afternoon playing catch-up.
Organizing her freshly pressed clothes into her closet triggered an avalanche of cleaning.
She started with the bathroom cabinet, tossing out all abandoned cosmetics and outdated medications, which led to scrubbing her tub and tile floor.
As she headed to the kitchen to tackle the refrigerator, her cell phone pinged.
Jay: Can you talk?
That warm, mushy feeling returned whenever Jay entered her orbit in any form. Instead of replying with a text, she called him back.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Jay asked.
"No, not at all,” she said. "How was your day? Everything go okay with your meeting?"
"Meeting went well. I won't bore you with the details. Not when we have a date."
"A date?" Claire asked, confused.
"Dinner and a movie,” he said. “It's my treat tonight, remember?"
"Um, I'm no rocket scientist, as you know, but wouldn't we need to be in the same city for that to happen?"
"Not necessarily," he said.
"Wait a minute! Are you standing outside my door?" she asked, hearing a buzz echo through her flat.
"I don't know. Am I?"
Claire tucked her bare feet into her bunny slippers and made her way downstairs, phone still in hand. She eyed the image on the security camera with confusion.
"It's a gray-haired gentleman," she whispered to Jay. "I've never seen him before in my life."
"Neither have I. Does he look like a serial killer?"
Clarie eyed the man again. “Not exactly, no. Who is he?"
"The delivery guy with dinner and a movie," Jay said.
Claire opened the door and had a short but pleasant exchange with the man. She took the bags of takeout from him and offered a tip, which he refused. He tipped his chauffeur-style cap, turned without a word, and disappeared into darkness.
Claire closed the door and returned to her flat.
"I can't believe you did all this," she said.
"It's not much. Just some takeout. I wanted to surprise you, but didn't finish up here in time. We have one more meeting in the morning. After that, there's a celebratory lunch once the deal is closed.”
"Our dinner reservation isn't until eight. Will that give you enough time?” she asked. “I don't want you to feel rushed."
"Every moment I'm away from you I feel rushed," Jay said softly.
Silence stretched between them, and Claire’s pulse raced as she searched for something—anything—to say. Before she could stumble through a response, Jay steered the conversation elsewhere.
"So, dig in. Tell me what you're dining on this evening."
“You don't know?"
"I left it up to the restaurant. Told them to send a sample of their best dishes. You mentioned your love of Chinese the other night."
Claire unpacked the bag, removing each item with care. "It looks like crab claws and Peking dumplings for starters, followed by Sweet and Sour soup, Spring rolls, and ginger chicken."
“Anything else?’ he asked.
"Just a few fortune cookies and a gift bag."
"Open it—but read the card first, okay," he said.
Claire pulled the card from the gift bag, smiling once more at the sight of her name. She loved the way he wrote it—all printed except for the cursive l. She read the lines to herself before reading them aloud.
"Anything I can do for you, Lover?"
"Uh, yes. Knit me a pair of socks—a pair without an actor’s face plastered on them."
“This is from a famous movie?" she asked.
"Well, I don't know that I would say famous, but it's one of my favorites."
"Without an actor’s face?" she questioned, her lips curling into a grin.
"Well, I don't recall if it was those words exactly."
"Is it a comedy?"
"Nope,” Jay said. “It’s just a good old fashioned love story.”
Claire racked her brain but couldn’t place the quote. Ending the suspense, she reached inside the gift bag and pulled out another DVD. “
“The World of Suzie Wong." She studied the image of William Holden, with his arms wrapped protectively around co-star Nancy Kwan.
"Not exactly the top of every critic's list, but certainly a must-see for all die-hard romantics," Jay said.
"From not much on the romantic side to full-blown die-hard, Mr. Avery? With nary a Bunsen burner in sight?” Claire said. “You, sir, are a contradiction in terms."
Jay laughed. "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."