brr5

“So. You're single now.”

“That I am.”

“And? How is it? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am.” He said strangely, eyeing a blonde across the room of the luxe after hours club he used to frequent with Anna when she wasn’t obsessively working on her exhibition.

“You keep looking at her.”

“I know.” He said slowly, sipping his white Russian hesitantly, “I’m trying to figure out where I know her from.”

“Probably anywhere; she looks so generic, I’m pretty sure half of the women in New York look exactly like her.”

He cocked his head to the side, “She seems so familiar, and I can't place it.”

“Eh, you just wish you knew her.” His friend JC laughed, “So, Anna, what happened?”

“We cheated, we ended. That’s that.” He said, still eyeing the blonde dancing on a couch with a girlfriend, her arms above her head, her blonde hair falling all her face. “Now I know where I know her from!”

“Where?”

“Lance’s party.” He said, “I totally remember her. We hooked up.”

“That’s great,” JC deadpanned, “Is she what lead to the demise of your awful relationship with that wretched artist?”

“She wasn’t wretched; she was intense. And yeah, partly.”

“Go say hi, and make sure you introduce her to me, because she’s a hottie.”

He laughed, “I’ll think about it.”

Emma stepped down from the antique velvet-upholstered couch, giggling. She raked her hand through her hair and went to the bar, her girlfriend a step behind.

“Oh my God, I am so humiliated,” Emma admitted.

Caylee Washington laughed, tucking her midnight blue Lauren Merkin clutch underneath her arm. Caylee was a classic southern beauty; finger waved strawberry blonde hair and an accent that strangely alluded to Gone With the Wind. “And why is that?”

“See that guy sitting over there?”

“Yes; he’s gorgeous.”

“Well, when I was in LA visiting Becca, I went to a friend of hers birthday party, and we kissed or whatever. I didn’t know he lived in New York – this is so humiliating! Oh my God, if he comes over here to talk to me, I will just freak out.”

Caylee laughed, “Emma! Just calm down, will you? It isn't that humiliating…”

“Hook ups aren't supposed to be repeated, Cay.” She replied, “But he is a really amazing kisser.”

“So go say hi, then.” Caylee urged, “He was looking at you anyway when we were dancing.”

She sighed, “He isn't my type; we talked in LA and he is way too nice for me.”

Caylee laughed, “And what is wrong with nice boys?”

“Everything, LeeLee.” She said, “Just everything.”

Suddenly there was a presence beside Emma and she turned her head slightly, “Hi.”

He smiled that million-dollar charmer grin, “Hi. I have to admit I really didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

She laughed nervously, “I think I will admit that as well.”

“I didn’t know you lived in New York.”

“Likewise.” She replied with a small smile, “You're looking sharp as ever.”

“Thanks.” He said, “You look good.”

She smiled and nodded slowly. Caylee just laughed and walked away, sitting down on the couch with a bunch of other people.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked politely.

“I guess so.” She replied nonchalantly. He ordered her a cosmopolitan from the bartender.

“I saw you dancing over there.” He said, “And I was wondering how you managed to keep a balance dancing on that couch in those heels.”

She laughed amicably as the bartender placed the drink in front of her, “It’s a quite complex art of perfection. You’re a guy; you couldn’t understand. Dancing on couches in stilettos…it takes a while to perfect, but the time spent is very worth it. But you, well, I didn’t see you get up one time tonight.”

“I didn’t see anybody really worth dancing with.”

She smiled, “Is that so?”

“Well that was until I saw you dancing over there on that couch of yours.”

“I see.” She laughed, “So are we just going to stand here making small talk or are we going to dance?”

He chuckled, “Your pick.”

She took a large sip of her drink, set it down on the bar then grabbed his hand loosely and led him out to the dance floor.

Hours later, they were sitting down on that same velvet couch, his arm loosely around her, Emma’s legs crossed, looking as if she hadn't spent the entire night dancing with him. JC had left an hour ago; he was tired and jet lagged from traveling yesterday.

They’d divided the night by talking and dancing, but more of the latter seemed to happen than actual talking. When they finally sat down, she leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I did,” He replied coarsely, on his third mojito, “We broke up.”

“Oh,” She said, “I’m sorry; was it bad?”

“Not as bad I was expecting, actually.” He said, “And you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Single, for the millisecond.” She said.

“Ahh. Are you one of those people who are perpetually involved with some one else?”

“That would be me.” She confirmed.

“We had a good time in LA.”

“We did.”

“But that was LA.”

She smiled, “New York, now…and you know, I’ll be the first to admit it, I’m not really feeling this on the East Coast.”

He laughed warmly, “I have to be honest, neither am I.”

“That’s good; because it was getting awkward.”

“Very.”

“So, this ex girlfriend of yours…anybody I know?”

“Anna Kett?” He said, sipping his drink.

“Really? My best friend went to her exhibition on Friday, and she seriously bought every single piece in the show. I don't know where she’s going to put it all, there are so many walls in a Park Avenue penthouse, you know?” She smiled, “Ahh, so you're the ex boyfriend of the famous Anna Kett.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good; she’s brilliant, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

She smiled, “Do you live here?”

“I’m an LA native.”

“I thought so; something about you really doesn’t ooze Manhattanite.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I think it could be fixed.” She said, “So why are you staying here, then, if you just broke up with the famous Anna Kett?”

“Um…” He paused, “I don't know. I’m a little bit sick of LA, the people there irritate me, so living here is a good change, I guess. But I’m getting ready to jet out to Phuket for a while for a little relaxation.”

“Phuket, huh?” She said, “I’ve been there, pre tsunami, of course. I hear it’s supposed to be lovely there this time of year. When do you leave?”

“Monday night?”

She sighed sadly, “Oh. I’m having a little get together Monday night to celebrate my friend’s newfound singledom. The poor girl has been going out with this guy for four whole years, and now that they're engaged to be married next month, she figures out she doesn’t love him.”

“Well, it happens.”

“Yeah, I guess it does. But I’m just glad she got out before she said I Do.” She said, “But anyway, I’m sad you won’t be able to make it. I like spending time with you. How long are you going to be in Phuket?”

“Three weeks at the most. I’m not all that sure, actually. This is a kind of spur of the moment trip; me and a bunch of my buddies are gonna head down and see what’s what, I guess.”

“There’s nothing like a really excellent vacation after a brutal break up.”

He nodded, “Exactly.”

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Emma van de Camp was a lot of things; rich, polite, poised. She was not the type of girl to just up and leave a club with some guy she’d made out with at some party in LA; however, she was the type of girl to follow her gut instinct and go with the flow.

“Actually,” He said, “As much as I would love to, I shouldn’t. You and me…”

She smiled and stood up with him, “An icky recipe for complete disaster?”

He grinned, “You said it, not me, Emma.”

She laughed, “Let me at least walk you to your cab.”

“Alright,” He obliged happily.

She linked her arm with his as they exited the Chelsea Lounge. He tried to hail a cab but no cab would stop; rightfully so, it was three o’clock in the morning.

He finally flagged down a cab, “You have my number right?”

“Both cells.” She replied, “You have mine?”

He nodded and smiled jokingly, “I’ll hit you up on your sidekick.”

“As will I.” She laughed, “Send me pics from Phuket, okay?”

“I will.” He promised, “If I don't see you before I leave, be good, okay? Stay out of trouble, Emma.”

She laughed it off, “Me, a troublemaker?”

He smiled, “Goodnight, Emma van de Camp.”

She kissed him on the cheek, a light breeze blowing her platinum blonde hair, “Goodnight, Justin Timberlake.”

She stepped down from the curb to shut the door and smiled as the yellow cab drove off into the blue night down West 53rd Street.