Chasing Harry Winston. Lauren Weisberger
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so late already, and I have to be up early for the meeting tomorrow.’ When did I start to sound like my mother? she wondered.
‘I promise you won’t have to do a thing.’
He pulled her closer and kissed her neck. She shivered, which he interpreted as delight, and ran his fingers over her goose bumps, which he took as a good sign. When they first started dating, she thought he was the best kisser on earth. She still remembered their first kiss – it had been positively transcendent. He took her home in a cab after the book party and the dive bar, and just before they reached her building, he pulled her toward him for one of the softest, most amazing kisses she’d ever experienced. He used the perfect combination of lips and tongue, the ideal pressure, the exact right amount of passion. And there was no doubt he had plenty of experience on which to draw, having been one of the most well-known and sought-after men she had ever met. Yet in the last few months, it had started to feel like she was kissing a stranger – and not in an exciting way. Instead of soft and warm, his mouth now often felt cold and damp and a little shocking on her skin. His tongue probed too voraciously; his lips always seemed either rigid or fleshy. Tonight, against the back of her neck, they felt like they were made out of papier-mâché before it properly hardened. Pulpy papier-mâché. Refrigerated, pulpy papier-mâché.
‘Russ.’ She sighed and clenched her eyes closed.
He stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulders, trying to relax her. ‘What, baby? Is this so awful?’
She didn’t tell him that each touch felt like a violation. Hadn’t the sex once been fantastic? Back when Russell was a bit elusive and flirty and seductive, and not quite so clingy or so determined to settle down with a more serious girl than all the flighty ones from his twenties? It all seemed like so long ago.
Before she realized what was happening, he worked her shorts down to her knees and pulled her even closer. His upper arms were huge, literally bulging under her chin and inadvertently pressing against her throat. His chest threw off heat like a furnace and the hair on his thighs felt like sandpaper. And for the first time ever while in bed with Russell, she began to feel the familiar heart-attack symptoms begin.
‘Stop it!’ she breathed, her whisper louder than she planned. ‘I can’t do this now.’
His embrace slackened instantly and Leigh was instantly grateful that it was too dark to see his face.
‘Russ, I’m sorry. It’s just that—’
‘No worries, Leigh. Really, I understand.’ His voice sounded calm but distant. He rolled away from her and within minutes his breathing steadied to its deep-sleep rate.
Leigh finally fell asleep just before six, just as the lady above donned her various foot accoutrements and commenced the day’s clomping, but it wasn’t until the next morning’s meeting, at which she felt inarticulate and thick-tongued from exhaustion, that she remembered her final thought before drifting off. It was of dinner with the girls a couple of weeks earlier and their proclamations of change. Emmy was going to expand her experience by having lots of affairs and Adriana had made a resolution to give monogamy the old college try. For the ten days since then Leigh hadn’t been able to think of anything she was willing to contribute. Until now. Wouldn’t it be funny to announce that she was going to work up the nerve to end her flawed relationship even though she was utterly terrified of being alone and convinced she wouldn’t meet anyone who loved her half as much as Russell so obviously did? That she kept waiting and waiting to feel the way about Russell everyone thought she should, but that so far it hadn’t happened? Ha-ha. Hysterical, she thought to herself. They wouldn’t believe it for a second.
She was trying to think of something else – the weather, her upcoming trip, the fact that her parents were discussing the possibility of moving back to the States – but Adriana’s mind refused to focus on anything other than the gorgeous contrast between Yani’s rough, ropelike dreds and the milky texture of his skin. Each time he stretched or straightened that beautiful midsection, her pulse quickened. She watched covertly as a droplet of perspiration traveled from his forehead to his neck and tried to imagine what it tasted like. When he placed his huge hands over her hips, it was all she could do not to groan. A coarse dreadlock brushed against her shoulder; he smelled like moss, overpoweringly green, but it was pleasant, masculine. He placed two fingers in the small of her back and nudged her pelvis forward. ‘Right there,’ he said softly. ‘Just like that.’
His voice got louder, but only slightly. ‘Gently place the left palm on the floor and rotate your body into plank position. Feel the energy flow from your hands to the earth, from the earth to your hands. Don’t forget to breathe. There; hold it right there.’
Adriana tried to block out the sound of his voice and, when that wasn’t possible, to reconfigure his words so that they sounded slightly saner. The class moved like a choreographed dance troupe, a collection of sinewy limbs and tight torsos that made the movements appear almost effortless. She loved yoga and she lusted after Yani, but she had minimal tolerance for the touchy-feely stuff. Correction: the touchy-feely stuff was great, as long as it was Yani touching her. All the lecturing about energy and karma and spirit made him just a little less appealing, and that was a real shame – but nothing she couldn’t overlook. She shifted her body into plank pose, her triceps quivering with effort, and glanced up to locate Yani. He was standing over Leigh with a foot positioned on each side of her extended legs, pressing the spot between her shoulder blades closer to the floor. Leigh met Adriana’s gaze and rolled her eyes.
As usual, the class consisted exclusively of women. Adriana had expertly scanned the room upon entering and, after determining herself the most fit and attractive woman in attendance, laid out her mat and saved a space for Leigh. She felt proud that in this room of beautiful women – all in their twenties or early thirties, all but one at or under their ideal body weight, all groomed to within an inch of their lives despite the early Sunday morning and the physical nature of the activity – she was the most beautiful. This realization no longer surprised or delighted her the way it had when she was younger; rather, it gave her a little added confidence bump that helped smooth along the day. The fact that Yani wouldn’t sleep with her most likely indicated that the problem was his and not hers, a theory she wanted her friends to confirm at a post-yoga breakfast.
‘It just doesn’t make any sense,’ Adriana said, placing her mouth delicately around a spoonful of granola. ‘What do you think is wrong with him?’
Leigh sipped her coffee and smiled at the waitress for more. The diner at the corner of Tenth and University wasn’t the best brunch place around – the servers were always surly, the eggs were sometimes cold, and the coffee ran the gamut from watery to bitter – but it was close to the studio and both girls could be certain that they would never see anyone they knew. There weren’t many places in downtown Manhattan where you could dine sporting yoga pants and sweaty ponytails without raising eyebrows, so they persevered.
‘I don’t know. I don’t suppose you think he’s gay?’
‘Of course not,’ Adriana snapped.
‘And there’s no chance that he’s just not that into you …’
Adriana gave one of her cute mini-snorts. ‘Please.’
‘Well, then it’s got to be one of the usuals. Erectile dysfunction, mid-herpes outbreak, freakishly small member. What else could it be?’
Adriana considered these options, but none of them felt quite right. Yani seemed peaceful, accepting, completely self-assured in that strong, silent way. No man had ever not responded to her. And it’s not that she wasn’t trying – it had been years since she’d needed to make an effort like this, and that time the boy’s reluctance had been tied to his upcoming wedding – but it sometimes seemed like Yani didn’t even see her. The more she swung her hair or thrust out her perfect breasts, the less he noticed.
‘What else? Why, isn’t it obvious? He’s a total bed-wetter and he’s terrified of being found out.’ Emmy seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and for the briefest moment Adriana was irritated to have