Crash Into Me(11)

I shook my head. "No. He was there with a bevy of hot women and never even spoke to me."

"So what happened? You're killing me here! I swear you tell stories like my students."

To be compared to a group of fourth grade Catholic school kids wasn't helping, no matter how exclusive Jordan's school was. I wrinkled my nose and smirked at her. "Thanks."

"Neen! Give up the details!"

"He was waiting behind the gallery when I was leaving and asked me to go for a ride with him in his Jaguar. He offered to take me home, but instead we ended up driving upstate to see a house he said he was thinking of buying."

"Shut up!" she squealed. "Is he as stunning in person as he is in the papers?"

I reached out my hand to take the newspaper from her. "I don't know. Let me see." She handed me Page Six and there he was, just as gorgeous as he was last night. I secretly wanted to keep this picture so I'd always have him near me.

"So? Is he?"

Tearing my gaze from the newspaper, I nodded. "Yeah. Maybe even more, although I didn't see him dressed in a tux. He wore only a suit to the show."

"Did you sleep with him, Nina?"

"No!"

Jordan knitted her eyebrows. "Stop acting like it's 1952. Sleeping with a hot guy is permissible these days."

"I know all about feminism, Jordan. I just don't choose to jump into bed with every guy I meet."

Pointing to the newspaper I'd stuffed down in between the sofa cushions next to me, she said, "You see the woman in that picture with him? That's the fifth or sixth different one I've seen him with this month. The rumors are that he sleeps with a different woman each night."




I raised my eyebrows more in despair than disgust. "Really? You believe everything you read in the papers?"

"No, but you know how celebrities are. And if the pictures are any indication, he likes tall brunettes who look more like stick figures than humans."

I looked down at my less impressive five foot seven frame and what I liked to call a "healthy" body. I was in pretty good shape, but I was definitely not a stick figure.

"I'm sorry, Nina. I didn't mean to say he wouldn't like someone like you. He'd be damn lucky if he did."

Jordan's sympathetic smile made me feel better and worse at the same time. The reality was that if he was a man who slept with a different woman every night, no matter what type of women he preferred, he hadn't wanted to sleep with me. He hadn't even wanted to kiss me.

"It's okay. I've never had a problem not being a stick figure," I joked.

"So, if you didn't sleep with him, what did you do with Tristan Stone?"

I wasn't sure how to explain it, so I chose to go with the boring truth. "We hung out. Nothing more."

"Nothing?" she asked, her voice sing-song.

"Nothing."

Jordan looked confused. I understood her confusion. I still had no idea why he'd come to find me and then never even really touched me.

"Any plans to see him again?"

I tried to tamp down my disappointment. I didn't want pity now. "Not really. It wasn't much of anything, Jordan, so there's no reason to believe he'd want to hang out again."

"This sounds like a mystery to me. Why would he come find you and then not want to see you again? What was the conversation like while you were heading upstate?"

"Monosyllabic."

"You or him?"