Chapter 51
Gage waved the server over and requested menus. “I’m starving, are you?”
“I can always eat,” Alex said.
“I like to hear that. Another round, please.”
Alex already felt woozy from the drink earlier since she had an empty stomach but eagerly accepted another. After all, she had had the afternoon from hell. She leaned forward and slurred slightly. “So . . . are-are you originally from New York?”
Gage sipped his fresh beer and smiled as foam covered his lip.
Alex studied his lips a little too intently. For a second, the thought of licking the foam off occurred to her. What is wrong with me? I have a boyfriend. She wobbled in her chair.
“We need to get some food in you,” Gage said. “I hope the server hurries up with our grilled cheese and tomato bisque.”
“Gus,” Alex said.
“What?”
“The server,” Alex said. “His name is Gus. He’s a nice guy and always remembers what you drink.”
“Good to know,” Gage said. “And, no.”
“No, what?”
“I’m not from New York.”
“Man, I do need to eat. I’m forgetting our conversation.”
Gus returned with water and silverware. Rather than place it on the table, he handed Alex her place setting. “I know you don’t like it touching the table.”
Alex pursed her lips and motioned with her head toward Gage, as if to indicate she didn’t want Gage to know about her idiosyncrasies.
The server shrugged. “Well, you don’t like it to touch.”
Alex rolled her eyes as she placed her napkin and silverware in her lap.
“What was that about?” Gage asked.
“Nothing, really. I don’t like germs. No big deal.” She dug in her purse for antibacterial gel but couldn’t find it.
Gage reached into his pocket. “Looking for some of this?”
“How did you know?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I have it too.”
“What?” she asked.
“A touch of OCD.”
Alex lit up. “Really? My girlfriends aren’t bothered by anything. I’m not manic about it. I don’t get up and straighten the—”
“Fringe on the rug in the middle of the night,” they both said in unison. Alex grinned and gave Gage a high-five. They both laughed as Gus set down steaming bowls of tomato soup with floating, crispy Asiago cheese croutons and grilled cheese sandwiches cut into four perfect pieces. “I love how they cut their sandwiches into four symmetrical squares.”
“It’s a nice touch.” Gage took a huge bite of his sandwich.
As they devoured their food, Alex’s mind raced. What am I doing? What about Tony? What about his shitty ex? And Joey? Maybe I should reevaluate my relationship like Suzy and Hope said.
Gage spoke first. “You won’t believe this but I’m from the Midwest. Kansas City, in fact.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “No wonder you don’t have an east coast accent.” She smiled. “I love KC, especially the Courtyard Country Club Plaza. The architecture is stunning. I haven’t been there in years.”
Gage took a bite of soup. “Great restaurants in KC too, plus I’m a Royals fan.”
“Cardinals,” she said.
He laughed. “As long as there isn’t another I-44 World Series, we’re good.” Gage wiped his mouth. “I could eat another sandwich. Want one?”
Alex rubbed her belly. “No, I’m stuffed. Why did you leave Kansas City for New York City? Do you have a thing about metropolitan areas that end with ‘city?’ You do realize you’re in Crystal City, right?”
He chuckled. “Funny, I never thought about that. I went to college at UMKC’s pharmaceutical school.”
“You’re a limo-driving pill counter?” Alex asked.
“And you’re a money counter?”
“Touché.”
Gage sipped his beer. “Nah, I didn’t like it. My dad was a pharmacist at a small osteopathic hospital. He loved it and wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I knew it was a good, steady job with a nice salary and benefits, but honestly, it was as boring as hell.”
Alex blew on her hot soup. “I can imagine. I wouldn’t want to be behind a little counter sorting pills all day. Go on. How did you end up in New York?”
“I saved up some cash and decided to see what New York City offered. I soon discovered the astronomical rent but loved the diversity and electricity of the city. I found some roommates and made it work.”
“Interesting. How did you land your limo-driving job?”
“Everyone in NYC knows of the Van Burens. They were constantly on the society page and followed by paparazzi. One winter I went ice skating at Rockefeller Center and noticed a huge commotion and throng of photographers. Skaters, shoppers, and tourists gathered around to watch, kind of like how you rubberneck when there’s a car wreck.”
Alex bobbed her head. “And?”
“I recognized the young woman who simply wanted to ice skate: Cheri Van Buren. She was obviously blinded by the flash of the cameras and fell on the ice. The photographers kept hounding Cheri and I felt sorry for her. I mean she just wanted to do something normal. Be like everyone else. It was a beautiful evening underneath a towering Christmas tree at 30 Rock.”
Alex made a face. “That’s too bad. We always look up to celebrities but I suppose there is a downside to being famous. Did you meet her that night?”
“No, I used my investigative skills to find her email and contacted her. I told her I witnessed the ice skating event and said I’d like to be her driver to protect her from the money-hungry photographers. Much to my surprise, she contacted me the following day. As they say, the rest is history.”
“That’s a sweet story.” Alex scanned the almost-empty bar.
Gage glanced at his vibrating phone. “I need to take this. It’s Cheri.”