Chapter 7 Love Guru #2
“Okay… Umm… You ever play hockey?” He asked, optimistically.
“Nope.”
Looking stumped for a minute, Randall scratched his jaw, giving me a chance to look at him properly. He had fantastic cheekbones, and that perfectly chiseled and powerful jaw that he was fondling... No, no, no! Stop that right now. You can not get attracted to this ridiculous man!
“You know, I was the youngest player for the junior USA team, back when…”
“Try again, Randy,” I said, dryly.
“Um. Okay. You like watching sports?” He said, hopefully.
“Right. I’m throwing you a bone here. Three easy ones. Ask me what I do. Ask me about my family. Or, ask me what I do for fun.”
“I choose…” He carefully considered the options, “Number three!”
I stared at him, waiting patiently to ask me properly.
“Ahem, what I mean is,” he leaned over and topped up my glass as he spoke, “What do you do for fun, Lucy?”
I felt a strange prickle of pleasure hearing my name on his lips.
“Outside of my work as a Love Guru?” I teased.
“Yes. Exactly.”
I started to open my mouth, then frowned, annoyed at myself. I’d told him to ask the question, but now that he had, I couldn’t think of a worthy answer to give him. I worked, I slept, I hung out in bars, I watched reality TV. There must be something…
“Um. I used to have hobbies. I painted, I sang, I made these awful little Christmas ornaments that I gave to everyone every holiday season.”
“Oddly cute. And now?”
“Depressingly, I actually don’t know. What do you do outside of hockey?”
“Watch sports, hang out with the boys, go to parties. Cook. French and Southern stuff mostly. I also sort of collect rocks.”
“You do what now?”
“It’s just a thing I started. I see a nice rock, I take it with me. Keep them all in a big old glass bowl. I don’t know why, but sometimes I like to just look at them, feel the rough and smooth edges, see the grain running through them. I guess it’s nice to just focus on something simple.”
“Randall Jackson, rock lover.”
He looked a little bashful, and I realized it wasn’t something he usually told people.
“Hey, I’d swap one of my finest rocks for one of those Christmas ornaments you make.”
“Oh, I’m not sure you’d be saying that if you saw them.”
For a moment, we smiled. Two people revealing a ridiculous hidden side of themselves.
“How come you can cook, anyway?”
“Oh, it’s my passion! I love it.”
Now, for the first time, I was actually seeing Randall being completely genuine. There was no pretending. His eyes danced with excitement.
“So, what? You went to culinary school?”
“Nah. My uncle Harry taught me. My dad wasn’t always around to pick me up from school.
Pretty often, actually. So I’d walk down to Harry’s restaurant and wait there.
His place, Lucy! Man, it was really something.
And he’d show me how to make everything.
This one dish, Harry’s Diving Duck, he was known all over town for it!
Once, a senator came in just to try it.”
“That’s kinda cute, Randy. What was the diving duck?”
“Hang about and you’ll find out.” He winked back at me.
“So, he’s still running the restaurant?”
“No.” Randall shook his head sadly, “Harry had a heart attack. Years ago now. After that, his hands got too shaky, had to give up the lease. But it probably would’ve happened anyway.”
I cocked my head in intrigue.
“Harry liked to gamble. He just wasn’t very good at it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Hey, you think you’ll open your own restaurant when you’re done with hockey?”
“Lucy. I think about it all the time.”
“Well, I used to work as a waitress in college if you’re interviewing.”
“Oh, yeah. I plate ‘em, you serve ‘em.”
Randy reached for the wine, but I stopped him.
“No, please allow me, sir.”
I pushed back my seat, stood up, and came round to his side of the table, filling his glass. “Is everything to your satisfaction this evening?”
“Oh, yes, excellent starter. Please pass my compliments to the chef.”
“Well, be sure to thank him with a tip.”
I watched Randall struggle to stop himself from making a quip about the tip. It looked almost painful for him not to, but he managed to hold it in.
“Okay, you’re hired. We open in one week, okay?”
“Oh, so we’re staying in Mexico and running Randy’s Finest American, French, and Asian Restaurant.”
“We definitely need a better name.”
“You’re not wrong.”
In an unexpected way, I was actually enjoying the evening.
It had been a while since I’d had a moment like this.
As the night bristled by, Harry’s Diving Duck turned out to be nothing short of sensational, and Randall, on his part, was actually acting like someone you could spend time with, without wanting to strangle him.
He went to retrieve a second bottle of wine and, as he came back, he looked at me inquisitively. “So, how am I doing so far?”
“I think you’ve done well enough to let out the real Randy for a minute.”
“Oh, thank God!”
Randall flopped back and then reclined into his chair, one foot lying casually over his other knee. There was something so confident about all of his movements. Like he owned the fucking world, and that was how it should be. No nervous twitches or second thoughts. He just was.
“Sooo,” he turned the corkscrew with perfect deliberation, each twist creaking in the wine neck as he watched the cork turn. “What if I told you I had a magic cock?”
“Hah! Is that right? And what makes it so magical?”
“It’ll make all your troubles disappear.”
He made a sound like a puff of smoke at the same time as the cork popped free, like a magician who had just made a card disappear in front of your eyes.
“Jeez. That really was… excruciatingly awful!” I told him, pulling a faux expression of disappointment.
“That’s actually worked before,” He told me as we laughed.
“I don’t think it’s because of the line. More that they were desperate enough to want to sleep with you already.”
“Huh. And I suppose you wouldn’t?” He looked up at me with a dark smile on his lips, before leaning over to refill my glass.
Suddenly, I was flustered. I should’ve just brushed it off, but I didn’t trust myself to look inside and find the actual answer to that question.
“Sorry, Randy, you haven’t quite won me over. A girl really needs to feel desired.”
“Uh huh, make you feel special?”
“No. Actually make me special. No games or tricks.”
“One night with me and you’d feel special. Trust me.”
I wanted to laugh dismissively, but the sound wouldn’t come. It was somehow trapped in my throat by the impossible thought of the suggestion. Was that actually true? Was I actually even considering this? Lucy. No.
We sipped our wine in the cool air and looked out across the hills. I couldn’t tell what Randy was thinking, but it was a moment without any sparring conversation, just peaceful and beautifully calm.
I checked my watch.
“Oh, shoot! My car is going to be here in five minutes.”
“Ah, really? You’re leaving me? I can’t tempt you with dessert?”
The look he gave me suggested more than dessert was on the menu, and it made me pause for a moment.
“Nope. That’s today’s lesson, Randall. Tomorrow, same time, if you want?”
“I’d like that,” he replied.
“I want you to think up some interesting questions to ask, and at least pretend you’re interested in the answers.”
“Okay. Also…” Randy rubbed the back of his neck, soothing himself. “I just wanted to say, I had a nice time tonight, Lucy. Thank you.”
“Oh my! You actually meant that, didn’t you?”
He smiled shyly.
“Hey, before I go… What’s the deal with that dog?”
“Jefferson? He’s cool. Caught him sniffing around my trash one day, half a chicken sandwich later, and we’re best friends.
“He’s also just had a few weeks of pampering in the gold standard of pet hotels while I was doing that fucking villa thing. Gwyneth Paltrow’s dog was there! Kind of love that a street mongrel was mixing it with those elite bitches.”
I frowned at him.
“I was talking about the dogs!”
As I got up from my chair, Randall stood at the same time, and we were suddenly closer than I’d anticipated.
I could feel his energy against mine. My body stirred and considered the possibilities of this closeness.
I hoped my eyes didn’t give away the strange feelings that were bubbling up in that moment.
“Really, why don’t you stay?” He asked, gently. There were colors in those words, a meaning that wasn’t quite what they said, but we knew what they meant.
You mean stay with you. Let your hands travel over my skin. Explore me, touch me, taste me…
I gulped as my brain teased a series of thoughts and a sweet rush of feelings at what staying would mean. A vibrant glimpse of arousal began to soften my skin and make my blood warmer.
The honk of my car from the driveway pulled us out of the moment. Had it not, he might have put his hands on me, and I could have fallen completely into the spell that was taking shape between us.
As he helped me into my jacket, there was something different in his expression. Something deep and intelligent, considering something that I could only wonder about.
“Goodnight, Randy.”
“Goodnight, Lucy.”