Jealousy 15

“I am so excited about this possibility!” I tell her. We hug again and then start giggling. I am excited to be spending time with Laura. We hang out until about 2pm, when I tell her I have to go to work.

“Already?” she says. “I didn’t think you worked until like 5 or something.”

“I don’t, but I fell and ripped a hole in the knee of my pants last night. I have a really busy week with the studio and need to make sure I buy a new pair before next weekend. I wanted to run to the store and get a pair before my shift.” It’s true. I am busy meeting with some clients on final choices and other prospective clients this week. My schedule isn’t packed, but it is full. It’s the biggest con of working in Interior Design. I frequently have sporadic mid day and evening meetings, making it difficult to run errands.

“Okay” she says, slightly disappointed. “Maybe I will call Jeremiah and see if I can talk him into taking me to a movie or something. I don’t know.” Her legs have already started to migrate north. Pretty soon, I will be talking to her feet. I move off the loveseat to give her more room. I pick up our lunch dishes, wash them in the sink, and then head to my room to do my makeup before leaving. When I reach my door, I turn around. “Laura? Thank you.” I am very genuine. Her feet stop wiggling a moment and then I hear a small “You’re welcome” come from the loveseat.

I close my door and breathe a deep sigh of relief. Grabbing my make-up bag, I walk to the mirror and start applying my make-up slowly. Wollensky’s wants the staff to be available but not noticeable or distracting. Make-up must be neutral. Long hair must be worn up in a twist or bun or other simple style that does not compete with the customers who are required to wear jackets and dresses. I think of how the neutral tones of the make-up make my face blend in with all of the surrounding points. Laura is right. Wollensky’s doesn’t count as being a presence in his life.

I finish my make-up. I put my work shirt on a hanger and grab my work shoes. It’s Saturday night and I know John is in town. Tonight, I am going to take Laura’s advice. I am going to go to a club or two he has been rumored to attend. And I am going to do so looking like someone who expects to be noticed, but for the right reasons. I just have to think of who would go on such short notice.

I decide to wear my work shirt and shoes. No wrinkles in your clothing is another Wollensky rule. Professional, polite, and presentable. It’s really what it boils down to meaning. Last night, I was evidently not capable of pulling off all three. I walk out of my room. Laura has either left or moved to her room. I put my coat on and look for my hat. Damn! It blew off in the wind last night and I just let it go. I’ll pick up a new one at the mall. I go back and put a hairbrush in my bag. I will probably need it to fix my understated updo.

“Bye!” I call out, just in case Laura is home. I think I hear a muffled response, but am not sure. I unlock the apartment door and close it quietly behind me, securing the locks once more. At the elevator, I look in the mirror. I am much improved over last night. The elevator arrives and I take it to the lobby. As usual, a few people are chatting in the small dispersed groups.

Outside, it is cold and windy. Nothing new. It is Chicago. I walk the two blocks to the train station and catch the red line headed south. In Bucktown, I get off the train and walk to the shopping district. I swing into Limited and pick up a pair of $110 dress pants. They are on sale and I am pleased with being so lucky! Then I browse some of the other racks. I find a basic black shirt with long sleeves. It fits me beautifully, flattering my shape well. My favorite part is the soft beading around the neckline. While standing in line, I peruse their jewelry. It’s a bit gaudy and nothing feels right. Then I see a wide beaded bracelet that is similar, but far bolder, than the beading on the top. I pick it up and pay for all three pieces, pleased that I have an outfit for the night.

I glance at the time and realize I have enough time to eat a quick dinner. I head to a small deli a couple of blocks back toward the train. It’s in the chic part of Bucktown. I’m not really dressed for it, but don’t care. I go in and sit at a table for two in the corner after ordering my ham and swiss on rye bread and a small raspberry tea. I contemplate Laura’s advice and decide it really is solid. Mentally, I begin to list the places I know John likes to go. My Droid is in my purse. I pull it out and start looking up which jazz musicians will be playing in Chicago.

The Green Mill is always a favorite. Maybe I will try it tonight. They always have a good jazz group on Saturday night. And the expected etiquette in the place means that I won’t have to explain myself to anyone. Even if he isn’t there, I will have some time to practice mild flirting. It’s getting late and I decide to go, clearing my plate from the table and dropping it on the bus boy’s cart. I catch the Red Line and head to Wollensky’s.