Chapter 2: Learning the Details

Each of the next three mornings we spent an hour learning about each other. Josh also realized we’d have some time to talk on the plane ride to Aspen.

I brought a framework I found on the Internet about relationships and what couples were supposed to know about each other. I did that so we could focus the discussion on particular parts of our lives besides our jobs. We spent Wednesday morning on genealogy and how we felt about our families, member by member. We also talked about our resumes, where we’d lived, our work, career paths, and what we sought by working.

I pose one of the questions from the list and then we’d talk rapidly at each other, taking turns filling in some of the details. It wasn’t speed dating, but it was close and in much greater detail.

Thursday we talked about our religious upbringing that for both of us left us spiritual yet not churchy. We also talked about our exercise regimes and goals. We briefly talked about our hopes and aspirations for our lives and then our life goals, breaking off to go to work and arranging to meet for dinner. Our whole demeanor was about preparing each other for the roles we’d play of boyfriend-girlfriend.

Josh called me about one o’clock on Thursday and told me he’d booked dinner at Radius – one of the more if not the most upscale restaurant in Boston and one that was far out of my league in terms of prices. I’d never been there.

Given the nature of the restaurant I figured I’d better rethink my ‘going out for a bite after work’ mode of dress. Further, going to Radius signals that this a ‘serious’ date. That made me nervous. I guess I was still suspicious of Josh.

What worked in the office would definitely not work at Radius. Thus, for a change, I left work at four o’clock much to the surprise of my colleagues, went to the hair dressers and got the works, and then headed back to my studio apartment to change into my best dress...

Josh had said he’d pick me up about seven-thirty. I was ready about seven and pacing the floor but doing little adjustments to my ‘look’ every other circuit. Pacing in my studio is hard to do because it is so small. I had to circle the coffee table to get any steam up in a pace. I was nervous.

I’d decided to wear my LBD – my little black dress. I picked that for several reasons. First, it is probably the nicest and sexiest dress I have, the wavy hemline oscillating three to six inches below my crotch. One of my girlfriends called a ‘Greyhound Dress’ since the hem was three inches from the hare (hair! Get it?). Second, it is the only dress I have that is even slightly worthy of Radius.

I also had on my black spike heels. The combination of the dress and the heels made my legs look like a million bucks. I do have great looking legs. The dress also did very nice things for my ass too, even though I wouldn’t have time to lose the extra weight that I needed to. I had started a crash diet, but had no results to show for two days of starvation.

I tried to decide what jewelry to wear with the outfit. I’d gotten as far as picking a pair of earrings that were simple two-inch gold loops. With my new hairdo I thought the earrings did a nice job of giving me an enticing and sexy look.

I paused in front of the mirror again. What did I know about this guy for sure other than he liked Starbucks? He could be a mass rapist or some kind of axe murderer that preyed on women my age? This could be the date from hell. I could have committed to the weekend from hell. What if his family were all looney tunes? Was my acceptance of this weekend just a flight of fancy for me that I’d regret all the rest of my days?

The doorbell rang. Josh was early? Did I have the time wrong?

I peeked through the eyepiece in my door and there was a floral deliveryman at my door. I opened the door with the chain on.

“Delivery for Megan Watson,” he smiled and held out a corsage box.

I adjusted the door and opened it all the way.

Florist man handed me the box and wished me a good evening, turned and disappeared down the stairs of my building.

I took the chilled white box into my living room and opened it. There was a beautiful orchid corsage, small and not too flashy, yet carefully crafted. All the bad thoughts about Josh vanished from my mind. That made me remember that I was supposed to be looking for three-hundred bad traits about him so I could forget him – and also stop thinking about him when I masturbated. He couldn’t have three-hundred bad habits; he had to have three-hundred good ones. He was soooo nice.

There was a small envelope with ‘Megan’ written on it. I opened it and read the enclosed card: “Pretty flowers for a much prettier woman. See you soon ’girlfriend’. Josh.”

My heart melted. Maybe I’d let this guy get lucky on our first date. What am I thinking? I tried to bury that idea really fast.

I sat and smelled the flowers for five minutes. I decided I’d better stop or there’d be no more odor buds on the flowers by the time we went for dinner. I went and touched up my makeup for the fortieth time that night and paced some more, now wearing the corsage pinned to my dress. I changed my earrings for the fifth time in the past half hour. My fake diamond studs replaced the hoops.

On the dot of seven-thirty Josh knocked on the door. I opened it to find my handsome prince standing there in a very fashionable tuxedo. My God, the last time anyone had picked me up in a tuxedo was my high school senior prom. This man was scoring points he didn’t even know about. I expected my mother would want photos of the event.

“Wow,” he said. “You look magnificent. I already think this may be the best date I’ve ever been on.” His comment didn’t betray even the slightest hint that he wanted to feed me a line.

More points, I thought.

“Come in for a minute,” I said. “I’d show you the place, except you can see it all from where you’re standing.” Josh stood and gazed about my neatened studio. Everything was packed carefully in the vertical racks and bookcases – not a cubic inch was wasted or empty, floor to ceiling. I was a packrat. Even over the closet and entry door there were shelves full of my stuff.

A few pieces of my own art that intrigued me decorated the walls. He asked about them and I explained each piece briefly.

Finally, I picked up a paisley shawl, put it over the one shoulder that didn’t have the flowers on it and gestured to the door. We left and locked up.

I let Josh escort me down to his car that was double parked at the curb. His car turned out to be a vintage Porsche 944 Turbo.

I’d never ridden in a Porsche. I jumped up and down a little with glee. Josh laughed at my antics. “I’ve always wanted to ride in a car like this.”

Fifteen minutes later, after entrusting the Porsche to a valet, we were seated in the posh amber glow of the restaurant’s many chandeliers and sconces. My chair had a velveteen finish on it and I thought that I might do nothing but rub the edge of the chair by my butt all night long to enjoy the tactile sensation from the fabric.

Josh got us both chocolate martinis – something I’d never tried before and after one sip declared as my new favorite drink. We were sitting side by side in a booth and it gave me the opportunity to study Josh as well as touch his arm with little flirty gestures.

Josh apologized ahead of time for any infraction of manners that he might incur; “You have to understand that I haven’t been on a real date in five years. Grad school and the foundation has taken up all of my time so I just haven’t felt I could leave it. I know that I’m a control freak – certainly about the foundation.”

I looked attentive and nodded encouragingly to hear him talk.

He went on, “I think things are getting to where I could at least let them coast every now and then rather than feel that if I wasn’t in personal control things would fly apart. I have hired a dozen competent people to help me there. I keep having to remind myself to delegate and often to get out of their way. I’m still looking for ten more like the first batch.”

I admitted that I had ‘control’ issues too, particularly about the quality of the art and other studio work that my company produced for our clients. We bounced around talking about business.

Over appetizers, I asked, “Tell me your life philosophy? Also you haven’t told me what you told your family and friends about me – about your girlfriend?”

Josh said, “Let me take the second question first. Under great duress and having had a tad too much wine, I told Van, Katelyn, and Fiona – my sibs – that I did to have a girlfriend but that you’d had to spend the holidays with your family outside Boston somewhere. I think I said you had dark hair and a nice figure. I said you had your own business, so you’ll have to waltz around how I got that wrong. I avoided saying what business you were in and I told you I didn’t give a name – you are just ‘nameless girlfriend’ to them.” He laughed at some internal joke.

I said with a touch of sarcastic humor, “Well, you certainly spilled the beans and left them knowing all about me, didn’t you?”

“I’ve always been terse.” He thought and then said, “Oh, I did tell them you liked to jog and ski – so it’s a good thing you opted for the ski day. I told them you volunteered – charitable work of some kind; that scores big points in my family; it’s one of the family values – philanthropy in both action and pocketbook. I think I also said you were intellectual and liked to read a lot.”

“Did you tell them how we met?” I asked.

“Fiona, the one getting married, asked me that,” Josh said. “I told her we’d met at a party – some mutual friends through Charles Schwab that handles the investments in the foundation.”

I muttered under my breath, “Party, Schwab, investments,” trying to memorize the small points to buttress Josh’s white lie to Fiona.