Lindsey Kelk 6-Book ‘I Heart...’ Collection. Lindsey Kelk
don’t need luck, just stick to The Rules. Bye hon.’
It took a couple of seconds for me to realize which building was the Mercer Kitchen after my cab unceremoniously tossed me out on the middle of Mercer Street, because of the non-existent ‘traffic’. After watching a few beautiful people head into a nameless glass door that opened to release delicious smells, loungey music and lots of laughter, I bit the bullet and opened the door for myself. The place was small but crowded with lots of happy looking people. I hoped the relaxed atmosphere would be contagious or at least available in a glass for a reasonable fee. Sitting at the bar, wearing another beautifully cut suit, white shirt and no tie was Tyler. He looked completely at ease, even though he was alone amongst half a dozen cliquey clusters of people, giggling, hugging, touching and kissing. Narrowly avoiding falling down the large staircase in the middle of the room, I sidled around to the bar and raised a hand in hello. Tyler hopped off his stool to welcome me with a kiss on the cheek. He smelt divine, fresh and clean but masculine and delicious.
‘Hi,’ he said, making eye contact with the barman, pointing at his drink and then holding up two fingers. Ultra smooth. ‘I had a last minute panic that you wouldn’t know where you were going.’
‘I checked with a friend,’ I said, settling on the next stool. ‘I don’t know what the rules are on being late or early or whatever so I just thought, you know, be different, be on time.’ I looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Or maybe I’m a little bit late. Sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I was actually a little late. Work overran, I didn’t even have time to go home, so really, don’t worry about it.’
‘You don’t live nearby?’ I asked, trying to stick to approved topics. ‘I mean, near your work?’
‘No,’ he shook his head making his hair swish. Really, it was just like a men’s L’Oréal ad. He was so worth it. ‘I live uptown, work downtown. Sometimes it’s a pain, but I couldn’t live downtown again. You still at The Union?’
‘No actually, I moved today,’ I said. This was going OK, I was having a conversation! ‘I’m in Murray Hill at my friend’s apartment, 39th and Lexington?’
‘Great, I’m on Park, a little further up.’ The waiter presented Tyler with our drinks and a bill face down, which he answered with a black Amex. Wow, I’d only ever read about them. ‘Hope you don’t mind me ordering your drink, they do great cocktails here.’
I took the cocktail graciously and sipped it. Man alive, it was like straight vodka mixed with a drop of Ribena. Maybe I should go slow.
‘I think our table should be ready now,’ he said, picking up both drinks and standing. I didn’t remember him being so tall … ‘Ready?’
The hostess smiled warmly and guided us to a table in the back corner of the restaurant where we could see absolutely everyone. And absolutely everyone looked as if they were enjoying their food.
‘God, I could eat a horse,’ I said, taking a menu from the waitress and hungrily scanning. ‘Oooh, have you ever had the burger?’
‘I do love a girl that eats,’ Tyler laughed, nodding to the waitress and accepting his menu. ‘I know everyone says it, but there really is nothing worse than bringing a girl out for dinner and then watching her push a lettuce leaf around her plate.’
I smiled tensely. Was that good or bad? Did he just call me a fatty?
‘Honestly,’ he went on without looking away from the menu. ‘I dated this French model for a while and I swear I never saw her consume more than a Diet Coke.’
And was it usual for a man to start a first date talking about ex-girlfriends? And had he called me a fatty?
‘Well, I do eat,’ I said, not really knowing where to go. ‘What do you recommend?’
‘It’s all good,’ he said, putting his menu down and fixing me with his clear eyes. ‘The fish is always great, burgers are good. And I like the chicken, but I think, yeah, I’m having the lamb tonight.’
‘You come here a lot?’ I asked, starting to get the feeling I was not Tyler’s one special girl.
‘I like to,’ he said. ‘It’s quiet, great food, and always a bunch of interesting people hanging out.’
Oh, he meant me. Sweet. ‘In that case I’ll have the chicken.’
As he started the small talk rolling, what did I do for a living, what did he do for a living, how long had I been in the city, what sights had I seen, I ran a quick comparison on Tyler and Alex. Alex was sexy and cocky and had the whole I’m-in-a-band thing going on, whereas Tyler was good-looking in a clean-cut, I take care of myself, let me take care of you, sort of a way.
‘Oh, well, I’m kind of a venture capitalist,’ he said, after he had ordered for us both. ‘But unless you’ve written some kids’ books about banking, I won’t even try to explain. Not to be patronizing but it’s impossibly dull. And I don’t want to put you off already.’
‘That’s OK,’ I said, brushing my hair behind my ears and ripping apart my warm bread roll as soon as it was put on my side plate. ‘I’m not a numbers person. I only really do words. And words for children at that.’
‘That saves us a really boring fifteen minutes,’ he said, pushing the olive oil towards me for dipping. ‘What is more exciting, is what you’re doing in New York? How do you know your friend?’
‘Oh, slightly longer story.’ I swallowed my bread in preparation. ‘Without going into a lot of off-putting detail, I broke up with … someone, so I decided to take a holiday and I’d never been to New York. I met my friend, the girl I’m staying with, in my hotel. She was looking for a roommate, I was looking for a room and so, here I am.’
‘Wow,’ Tyler looked bemused. ‘You just upped and came to New York? Must have been a bad break-up.’
‘I’m not supposed to tell you about it,’ I said. ‘My friend said no specifics about exes until the fourth date.’
Tyler laughed, nodding. ‘I do love The Rules. You can’t even tell me if I ask?’
‘You might not want to know.’ I paused, trying to weigh up Erin’s sacred advice over Tyler’s warm smile and crinkly eyes. Our first course appeared over his shoulder. Maybe if I told him while he was distracted by lamb. I would have to tell him eventually, anyway, wouldn’t I? It would surely come out before the black Amex funded wedding …
‘Go for it,’ he said, making room for his plate. ‘I’m asking.’
‘OK, but don’t you dare walk out before you’ve eaten.’ I didn’t want to pick up my fork until I’d got the whole story out. Even the short version. ‘I found my boyfriend having sex with this girl he’d been seeing in the back of our car at our best friends’ wedding, screamed at the bride and made her cry, broke the groom’s hand with my shoe and more or less ruined the wedding. Then I ran away to New York. How does that grab you?’
‘And I thought a children’s writer would be shy and retiring,’ he whistled. ‘Now it’s getting interesting.’
‘I suppose before Saturday, I could have been called shy and retiring,’ I said, cutting into the chicken. ‘But seeing your boyfriend’s boxer shorts around his ankles while you’re in a grand’s worth of bridesmaid dress will really give you a kick up the arse.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Tyler put down his knife and fork. ‘You’re talking about this Saturday? Saturday five days ago?’
I nodded thoughtfully. ‘It seems such a long time ago to me now, but I think that’s why I’m not supposed to tell you. Are you freaking out?’
‘Maybe I’ll get around to that later. At the moment I’m still trying to work out why you came to New York when you didn’t know anyone,’ he said. Knife and fork still down. ‘Jesus,