Stay After Class, page 18
“How about you?” he said. “What brings you here?”
“Well I guess you went to the same school, since, the professor, I mean, Jem was my teacher too.” And much more. Except he’s being a dickhead tonight.
“No kidding,” he said. This time he touched my wrist. “What’s your major?”
“Business.”
“Amazing,” he said. “Me too.”
“Six degrees.”
“Less. Two business majors, same college, here at the same art opening. Probably the only people in our twenties here. Both with blue eyes. I’d say it’s fate.”
The moment he said that, I thought of Jem. Up until two days ago, for as long as I could remember, I thought he was the one who was meant to be for me. I never thought my fate would be to bump into some cute guy the eve of my birthday. But maybe it was. I was just a little confused that he said he attended the same college, because Jem didn’t start teaching there until last year. But I let it go.
“Well, to be honest,” I said, with a friendly smile. “I am kind of happy to run into someone my own age because these artsy-fartsy people are a little stuffy.”
“Don’t I know it, but don’t tell anyone.” He laughed, throwing his head back as he did. “It’s not good for business.” This time he touched my thumb.
Just as we were laughing, and as the cute guy in the suit touched me again, Jem walked out of the gallery door with a couple that looked very familiar.
“Paul, we will have it delivered to you on Monday,” he said, shaking the guy’s hand. Then he kissed the woman on each cheek, European style. I realized the man was the New York theater star, Paul Giamond.
Jem spotted me next to his other protégée, on the bench.
“Paul Giamond, this is Lance Alcott, one of the owners of this gallery.”
“Beautiful place,” said the actor shaking his hand. “Great show.”
Lance turned to me and said, “And this is…”
“Amanda Slade.” Jem looked at me as he filled in the information Lance did not have. “She’s my…”
“Oh, the Awe, Wonder, and a Penis girl,” said the woman. “You’re adorable.”
“You’re Awe, Wonder, and a Penis?” said Lance. “I didn’t realize it from the way your hair is falling on your shoulders and the sexy dress you have on. I thought I was in love when I first saw the sketch. Now I am totally in love.” He patted his heart twice.
The actor and his female companion said their good-byes and walked off. In fact, many people were starting to leave. I looked at my watch. It was already eight p.m. I’d had a glimmer of hope that the sexual cavalry had shown up in the form of the tall, blue-eyed gallery owner, but now, Professor Handsome Pants was back in the game, looking like he was about to get territorial.
Jem turned to Lance, and then me.
“I see you two have met,” he said, his eyes latching onto mine.
“We literally bumped into each other when she nearly tumbled out of the door in those heels,” said Lance with a big smile, this time touching the skin on my inner arm. God, he touched a lot. “Now thanks to you, I know her name.”
“Well, I’m glad you two could meet,” said Jem, not sounding convincing. “You have a lot in common, academically.”
“Yes, Amanda and I are kindred spirits,” he said, smiling over at me. “And I suspect we would make beautiful babies together, given the chance.”
What the eff?
I stood there, stunned by the comment. And based on what I knew about the professor’s moods, he was agitated.
“Lance, I just sold sketch number twelve to Paul, for two hundred thousand,” he said. “Can you please take care of the paperwork so it gets to him as promised? He insisted on giving me the check tonight. Here.”
“I’m on it,” he said, taking the check from Jem’s hand and looking at it. “Ka-ching, ka-ching.” He got up to leave. I was hoping he wouldn’t but he turned to me before departing.
“Got to take care of some business,” he said. “Will you be around for a while?”
“Yes, I will.” I stood up too.
“No, she won’t. She was just leaving … to run an errand.”
“But you’ll be back, right, Amanda Slade?”
“Sure,” I insisted, ignoring Jem.
“Look for me,” he said, kissing my hand. “See you soon.”
Lance winked at me as he headed into the gallery.
“What the eff was that about?” I said, loudly, spinning around to face Jem.
“Are you playing your sweet little siren song for my benefactor?” His tone was gruff.
“What are you talking about?”
“Listen, that guy is a player—the worst kind of wolf and he will play you so hard you won’t know what hit you.”
“At least someone will… ”
“Will what?”
“Will give me what I need.”
“Yeah, he was ready to give you what you need,” he lashed out. “He’s one of the reasons I tried to pull the sketch of you.”
“What do you mean?” A warm breeze blew and took my hair with it.
“When he looked at it during the installation, he made lewd comments, about ‘tapping that’ when he sees you. He knew exactly who you were.”
“Well, you know what, at least he sat out here with me in public, rather than hiding me from everyone he knows,” I shot back. “And at least he’s interested. I seriously need someone to penetrate me with an actual penis. By midnight. ”
“That’s going to be me, in about—”
Before he could finish, my phone started beeping. I lifted if from my bag. The VirgEnd app was flashing and beeping every hour on the hour now. New status: 4 hours, 31 minutes, 24 seconds.
“What the hell is that?” said Jem.
“It’s my VirgEnd app,” I said. “It’s keeping me on track for my, you know, deadline.”
“You have an app for that?” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“If I had a penis available, I wouldn’t need an app.” I glared at him.
He folded his arms and took a deep breath. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Just then, Regina stuck her head out of the gallery door. Bitch.
“Jem, you’re needed inside.” She shot a nasty look in my direction. I couldn’t believe the way she was pushing him around.
He closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself.
“Roger that,” he said, turning to look at her. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
When she departed, he returned his focus to me.
“You know, if you replaced the R with a V it would spell Vegina.” I laughed at my own joke, still a little tipsy. “And she kind of is one.”
“Wait here,” he said, taking my hands and sitting me back down on the bench. “We apparently have some business to take care of tonight.”
I wanted to yell that I was not a kid that he could just sit on a park bench until the adult event was over, but I opted not to. Instead, I nodded and looked back at my phone. There was a text from Tara.
Tara: You look super-hot. Making any progress?
Me: I got a little drunk, he got a little mad, some young guy tried to pick me up, Jem got jealous, now he wants me to sit outside the gallery and wait for him. Then, maybe something will happen. Oh, and I met a Broadway star.
My fingers hurt from typing so much.
Tara: I’m sending in reinforcement. What’s the address over there?
I sent her the information without thinking.
“Wait, what?” I realized I was talking out loud while I was texting.
Tara: You need a backup plan, just in case.
Me: Like who?
Tara: Like someone whose penis you have already seen.
She sent an eggplant emoji.
Tara: Look up.
Chapter Twenty-four
Saturday, June 4
Evening
VirgEnd Countdown:
3 hours, 31 minutes, 13 seconds
The Gallery Opening
Birthday Eve
SoHo
I was flabbergasted when I saw James the art model coming my way. He was dressed to the nines in a black suit and gray tie, and his mane of ginger hair was in a man bun.
He looked smoking hot as he walked up to me with a shy grin.
“You’re Amanda, right?” He had my photo on his phone and it was on Facebook.
“Yes, James, right?” I looked right at his crotch. “I drew your penis in art class.”
“I remember it well,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Thanks for all the effort you put into it.”
I blushed and brushed my hair from my shoulders. Seeing him all neat and well-dressed made me feel warm inside.
“It was a bit of an art disaster, but you were great.” His face was really handsome and he had sparkly blue eyes. He looked like a happy person.
“I heard there’s a sketch of us in Jem’s show,” he said, motioning to the gallery door. “Show me?”
“Sure.”
He gave me a hand out of my seat and guided me in, gently holding my elbow as we walked up the stairs.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, as he pulled one from a passing tray.
“I think I better stick with water.”
“I’ll get you one.” We moved together to the bar station and he order the water and handed it to me. A gentleman.
“So how do you know Tara, exactly?” And why was my photo in his social media messenger.
“From the class.” He sipped his wine. “She friended me on Facebook and we stay in touch.”
“Cool. I didn’t realize that.”
“She asked if I was coming to the show and I told her I might because Jem had mentioned the sketch to me.” He took another sip, and eyed me up and down.
“So, why is my photo in your phone?” It was the same one I texted Tara before leaving my house so I knew where it came from.
He pulled the phone out and looked at it again.
“She sent it to me an hour ago and told me you may be having trouble tonight with that thing that you mentioned in class the day I posed.” He looked around the room before returning his gaze to mine. “If that’s the case, I volunteer … as tribute.”
A grin lit up his face. And I started to laugh.
“I guess Tara did not mince words about my predicament,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe I do need a drink.”
He ordered another wine and handed it to me. His fingers touched mine softly. There was an odd intimacy between us. I’d already seen his penis. He knew I was a virgin. And he showed up here to see if he could help.
“So let’s go see the sketch,” he suggested, this time he linked his arm in mine as we journeyed down the hallway that had become so much a part of my life these last couple of weeks.
Along the way, we passed Jem and Regina. He turned white when he saw me with James and gazed longingly as I floated by. My heart tugged when his eyes caught mine but I kept on walking. It seemed inconceivable that I’d be walking down this hallway with anyone other than Jem.
When we got to the now infamous image of me sketching James, it was a shocker to see how many people were snapping photos and posting it on social media.
“Awe, Wonder, and a Penis!” James said, cracking up. “That’s hilarious. And you look so cute. He really got you. That was definitely your expression that day.”
I smiled at the drawing. After sharing it only in private, it was weird to see people so jazzed about it. I wanted to take a photo with it, before it sold.
“When in Rome,” I said, pulling out my phone for a photo. I handed it to James to snap a photo of me, but he pulled me in for a selfie. Holding my phone with his long arm, he angled us both in front of the sketch. He drew me close, leaning his head on mine, and snapped a few photos. Then he took a few of us against a plain part of the wall.
He excitedly looked through the images immediately and showed me one image where our heads were leaning together and our eyes seemed to sparkle.
“Can I post this on Instagram?” he asked, excited. “I’ll tag Tara so she knows you’re okay.”
He sent the photo to his phone and handed my phone back to me.
I quickly sent her one of the pictures of us in a text.
Me: You pimped me out!
Tara: He’s cute and uncomplicated.
Me: I know, but…
Tara: But what? Swipe the card. Do the deed. Pop the cherry. I’m getting anxious waiting for midnight. Let’s be done with your hymen and move on.
I clicked out of the text when I suddenly felt James’ arm around my shoulder.
“Smile,” he said, bringing his body into mine, “we have fans.”
I looked up and we were surrounded. Five people were taking photos of us, including a photographer from The New York Post. I smiled for a series of photos until I looked beyond the crowd and saw Regina and her evil grin. Jem was next to her, looking unhappy, holding his arm against his chest by the elbow and massaging his temples.
My instinct was to go to him, but she was there, so when James grabbed my hand, I went with him. We threaded through the crowd and, because the door was slightly ajar, we ducked into the White Room. I looked around, feeling sentimental.
He took out his phone and opened to the photo of us, admiring it.
“We look good together,” he said, touching my cheek with the cool edge of the phone. “And look how beautiful you are. You should be a model.”
He should only know the sketching that had gone on in this room, which is exactly why I felt uncomfortable being here with him.
“That’s sweet, but I could never,” I said, trying to be friendly but not flirty. “You’re so poised and good at what you do.”
“One of the things that modeling has taught me is to build instant rapport,” he said. I was a little shocked when he started backing me up against the wall but he was super handsome up close, with those sparkly eyes. “I can be comfortable with people quickly and, hopefully, make them comfortable with me.”
He brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek and lifted a strand of hair from my face.
“James, you may have the wrong impression.” I slid sideways against the wall.
“Tara told me you need to have sex no later than twelve thirty a.m.,” he said. “Did I get the time wrong?”
“Thank you for volunteering,” I said, wanting to giggle. “But we really don’t know each other.”
“You really don’t have to know anyone these days,” he said, eyes looking deeply at mine. “I’ve met girls on Tinder who said they just wanted to get it over with. And I’ve helped.”
“You’ve been on call before to deflower virgins?” He was kind of adorable in that he didn’t really know how ridiculous it sounded.
“Yes.” He smiled proudly.
Just then my VirgEnd app went off. The beep was even louder this time, like a gong.
“Excuse me a moment.” I looked at the new status: 3 hours, 31 minutes, 13 seconds.
He looked at it too and smiled. “I have condoms,” he said quickly. “And there’s no place I need to be.”
Was this really how it was going to happen? James the art model, sexing me as an act of mercy?
I slipped out of my sky-high heels because my feet hurt. And dropped my purse to the floor because I was tired of holding it.
He apparently took it as a cue, putting his phone in his pocket to free his hands and then taking hold of my face. He leaned in. It felt nice, maybe because I just needed to feel someone touch me. And he was attractive and warm. But he wasn’t Jem.
Just as his lips were a millimeter away from mine, I stopped him with both hands to his chest. And that’s when Jem walked into the room. He entered slowly, cautiously, eyeing us both. Then he extended one hand.
“James,” he said, shaking firmly. “Good to see you.”
“Great show,” said James, sliding a few feet away from me.
They eyed each other like fighters about to go at it in a ring.
“Not much of it here in the White Room, but glad you could make it.” He nodded in thanks and looked over at me. “And thanks for keeping Amanda company.”
“Actually, we were just about to—”
“I know.” He moved to where I was standing. “But that won’t be necessary.”
James looked at me and at Jem, and stood still for a moment.
“Amanda, ready to go?” He bent down to pick up my shoes, handed me my purse, and grabbed my hand. I looked over at James and mouthed “bye” as we walked out.
Jem swept through the remaining people in the narrow walkway and straight over to Awe, Wonder, and a Penis. He pulled it off the wall. Still holding my shoes and my hand, we exited the gallery—in front of everyone.
“You’re leaving your guests?”
“We both are. Clearly I have something to attend to before you try to turn me in for a millennial model.”
“What about the show?”
“It’s been a huge success, for everyone involved, and now we’re leaving.”
“But the gallery is our hang out.” I eyed him curiously. “Where are we going?”
“To my studio,” he said, walking out to the sidewalk with me and the sketch in tow. “I’m taking you home.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Saturday, June 4
VirgEnd Countdown:
2 hours, 31 minutes, 13 seconds
Jem’s Studio
Flower District,
New York City
He hailed a cab and helped me in.
His studio was on Twenty-Eighth Street, not too far from the gallery. So we got there fast, and out of the car and in the door even faster. I didn’t bother to put my shoes on to make the trek to the second floor.
He opened the door to a large loft space separated by dividers, but it was elegant and well designed, with stark wall space and nice furnishings in the living part of it. It looked like the bedroom was on a raised platform with a curtain around it. There was a huge, spacious living room with many plants and small trees and expensive looking furniture. And then there was an area off to the side that was messier and looked like an art studio. There was a bed in it!
