Chapter 13: Date with Ricky

“Okay, well I guess I’ll see him then,” Laura said.

She ended the call with Ricky’s personal assistant. Laura wished that she had enough money left over to visit the spa and salon again for this evening’s date with Ricky. She was determined to make an equally good impression on him as she had done with the other two men. True to his word but unusual to experience, his personal assistant set up this evening’s date with Ricky and told Laura to be ready to be picked up by 7 p.m. sharp.

“I guess that’s how the other half lives.” She hung the black fish tail dress she would wear this evening in the bathroom to steam out the wrinkles while she showered.

Tonight she would switch roles. A visiting symphony would be playing tonight and Ricky had box seats through his law firm.

She had been so focused on shopping for clothes that she had forgotten to get groceries; hopefully dinner would be included in this date.

It was 6:50 p.m. She was almost ready. She spritzed herself with perfume and hoped for the best. She plopped down on the living room sofa to wait for Ricky.

“Roses!” she exclaimed. “Oh no. How will I explain this to...” Ricky’s buzz from below interrupted her thoughts. Time just caught up.

She buzzed him in and tried to figure out how she would explain this to him. “The truth will set me free. They wanted me to date all three of them. This is one result of that wish.” A knock sounded at her door.

“Hello Ricky.” He stood at her door wearing a tuxedo and carrying two shopping bags full of groceries.

“Hello Gorgeous.” He hugged her. “I haven’t eaten all day. How about if I whip us up a quick bite before we hear the symphony?”

If she had to declare a winner out of the three men, she would have chosen Ricky right then and there for being her knight in shining armor and arriving with groceries that he would turn into a meal for two.

“I hope you don’t mind. Are you hungry?”

Her belly betrayed her efforts to play it cool and sophisticated and loudly growled.

“I’ll take that as a resounding yes.”

He was on his way to make himself at home in her kitchen and get to work preparing their dinner when he stopped midway between the dining room and the kitchen. He took in the dozens of roses surrounding him.

“How extravagant,” he commented with a slight tinge of jealousy from possibly being bested. “From Alex, the romantic, I’m guessing.”

“Correct,” she admitted, feeling a little guilty.

“Well, as lovely as they are, you can’t eat roses, can you? Help me clear some room so I can get started cooking. The concert starts at 9. Tempus fugit.”

She cleared the counter space of roses and helped him to find all of the cooking accoutrements that her modestly equipped kitchen had. Once that was done, she served as a novice sous chef to his executive chef mastery. They made spaghetti, garlic bread, and a tossed salad. She chopped and he sautéed.

“Italian is my ultimate favorite. I could get used to this,” she mumbled to herself.

“I’m glad. That’s the whole idea, Gorgeous.” He smiled at her, then bumped hips and elbows, pleased that he was making her happy.

He made her feel at home in her own home. They talked while they cooked together. She talked about orchestra rehearsal and the skills and struggles her music students, carefully leaving out her lunch hour escapades with Don. Ricky talked about cases he was working on and the demands and expectations of being a new partner, leaving out the confidential details about his clients. They shared a bottle of red wine, Merlot, her favorite, together before and during the meal, which was followed by strong black coffee and a pint of hand-churned, gourmet vanilla bean ice cream.

“Ok. I guess we’d better get moving. I have to get in some time with the other partners before the concert starts. I know it’s not your music, but I wanted to treat you to something almost as good and beautiful, Gorgeous.” Each time he called her gorgeous, she felt herself becoming more and more attractive in his eyes and increasingly attracted to him.

# # #

At the concert hall that she had left several hours ago, his law partners saw her as appealing eye candy hanging from Ricky’s arm. Ricky had come to these firm-sponsored events before, but always solo. Tonight they made the rounds together. Five minutes before the concert started, an usher led them to the best seats in the house.

It had been a long time since she attended a concert rather than giving one. She had to admit it was a treat. Once they were seated, he put some opera glasses in her lap and put his arm around her.

“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.

“If so, don’t wake up yet. I’m having the same dream and thoroughly enjoying it,” he joked.

The music started. The performers were learning challenged, autistic, public high school students from across the state and her conductor was leading them. “I had no idea,” she said to Ricky as the concert began.

It was lovely and amazing. She was having an awesome time. For this evening she was neither a performer or a teacher, but a part of this world, his world, and she never wanted it to end. But all good things, especially dreams, had to end even if they were incompletely resolved.

“Well, Gorgeous, what did you think?” he asked her after the final piece.

“It was an excellent choice. I think I saw some of my prep school students in the audience. Probably siblings and friends. Ricky, this was perfect. Have I thanked you enough yet?”

“Great. I still have some calls to make in other time zones and time sensitive email to respond to. So...let me get you home safe, Gorgeous. I’m glad you had a good time.”

They rode in comfortable silence together as though they shared evenings like this all the time. Ricky expertly maneuvered one hand on the wheel and his other hand on top of hers.

Within minutes, and definitely too soon, they arrived at her loft. “Thank you for a memorable time. You are so busy but...”

“But I’ll always make time for you, Gorgeous. You can rely on that for sure.” He parked the car, then leaned over and kissed her. Real firecrackers above were the only thing that could have reflected how she felt in that moment.

“I had so much fun,” she said, slowly coming up for air and reluctantly ending this dream date.

“Me too. I’ll be in touch.” He opened her car door and they walked hand in hand to the door of her building. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders while they stood at the entrance to the building trying to decide how best to say goodbye after so many magical moments they had shared on this extraordinarily special first date. He hugged her goodbye and watched her safely enter alone.

In the elevator on the way up to her loft she wore a blissfully happy smile across her recently kissed lips and his tuxedo jacket around her recently touched body. How could he have known that she would have enjoyed that concert? How could he have known that she would want to eat first and a homemade meal at that? How did he know how she liked to be touched, kissed and held? Did he come away from an interview and performance event with total understanding of her likes and needs as a modern woman?

The elevator stopped on the third floor as it had done so many times in the past. But there was one significant difference. She had a surprising realization from the past 24 hours and three dates.

“Oh my God! That was incredible!” she screamed in an emotional release after collapsing on her sofa and kicking off her high heeled shoes. “I want all three.”