I stare out the window as the tarmac starts to scream past.
“She might call you,” Murph offers.
I shake my head. “She didn’t ask for my fucking number,” I snap, annoyed.
Their eyes meet and they both smile broadly. “She was probably trying to get out of there as quick as she could.” Joshua smirks.
I shake my head. “She could have been Mrs. Stanton, I’m telling you. This chick was out of this world.”
“What was her name?” Murph asks.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t even know.”
They both burst out laughing. “You… You didn’t even ask her name?” Murph stammers in shock.
“I was calling her wife and Bloss.”
“No wonder the poor bitch ran.” Joshua smirks. The two of them clink their drinks. “Who calls a chick their wife on the first night they meet them?” Joshua shakes his head in disgust. “Creepy son of a bitch.”
“This isn’t funny, assholes. I’m supposed to be going to New York to meet her next weekend and I don’t have her fucking number.”
Joshua raises his eyebrows in shock. “You were going to fly all the way to New York next weekend, just to see her?”
I nod and blow out a deep breath as I stare out the window. Fuck, I’m so pissed off with myself.
“I would have flown to the moon. She was dropping in and out of languages and had a body to die for. I’m telling you. This chick was the shit.” I slam my head back on the headrest. “You fucking idiot,” I snap at myself.
“So, let me get this straight. It’s taken you twenty-seven years to find a woman you like better than yourself, and then the next day you lose her number?” Murph asks flatly. “This is why you are the stupidest man I know. You make goldfish look smart.”
Joshua laughs into his drink. “Snap.”
I glare at him. “I’m going to fucking kill you with a smile on my face. Prepare yourself for pain, fucker.”
We all fall silent for a moment as the plane launches into the air. “What was the last thing you said to her?” Murph asks.
I narrow my eyes as I think for a moment. “I said I was coming to New York and booking a hotel for us, and don’t bother packing any clothes because you won’t be needing any.”
“Witty,” Murph mutters dryly. “I’m glad you lost your phone because if she is as smart as you say she is, she would have dumped you in a week anyway with pickup lines like that.”
I roll my eyes. “Just concentrate on sucking dicks, asshole.”
Murph throws me a cheeky wink. “Well, it’s a lot better than hearing about goldfish pickup lines.”
“So, you heading off to Kamala tomorrow?” I ask Joshua to change the subject.
“Yeah, we leave in the morning. Only going for three weeks, though. What are you guys up to?”
“Working,” Murph replies. “Somebody’s got to hold the company together.”
“I’m going to New York next weekend,” I announce as I come to an impulsive decision.
“What are you going to do?” Joshua smirks. “Search the whole of New York for some mystery chick you don’t even know the name of?”
“Maybe.” I stare out the window.
“You fucked it. Just admit it. She’s gone.”
New York City, Saturday night
I sit at the busy bar in New York named Luco. I’ve chosen a seat that faces out onto the street and I stare out at the crowd bustling past. This is the craziest thing I have ever done in my life. After thinking on it all week, I got on a plane this morning to come to New York to look for a girl whose name I don’t even know.
I had to. She hasn’t left my mind since I left her at her hotel room last Sunday morning.
I didn’t even tell anyone I was coming. I know how fucked up this must seem, but to me it feels like the only logical thing I could do. I have no idea how to find her.
I take out my new phone and click through to my cloud and stare at the photo I have of the gorgeous creature. I’ve stared at it every spare moment I’ve had for six days. This is the only evidence that she even exists.
Who are you?
It’s weird. I’m a player. In fact, I’m a player’s player. I don’t think twice about the women I sleep with most of the time, and I definitely never would have done anything this desperate before.
Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.
An annoying little voice whispers to my subconscious… Maybe she’s different?
I watch the oncoming crowd in the street and I frown. I don’t even know if I would recognize her on sight to be honest. I walk over and take a seat at the bar.
“What will it be?” The bartender smiles.
“Blue label Scotch on the rocks, please.” I glance around as I scan the crowd.
She makes my drink, turns back and slides it over the bar. “You here alone tonight?”
I shrug, and for some reason I feel like I need to elaborate. “Believe it or not, I flew in from LA today and am looking for a girl I met in Vegas last weekend. I have no idea of her name.”
Her eyes hold mine. “That’s crazy romantic.”
I shake my head. “I don’t do romantic. It’s crazy stupid.”
She serves the man next to me, while I sit and drink my drink. After a few moments she comes back to me. “Why don’t you put an ad in the classifieds.”
I frown into my drink. “What?”
“Put an ad in the classifieds that only she would understand.”
I laugh and run my hand through my hair. “Now that’s fucking crazy.”
She picks up a cloth and wipes the bar in front of us. “No, that’s crazy romantic.”
She moves on to the next customer and I sit and think for a moment, and eventually I pick up my drink and return to my table near the window, deep in thought.
Hmm… what would I write in the ad?
A waitress walks by. “Excuse me, do you have a pen I could borrow, please?” I ask.
She feels insides her pockets and hands over a black pen, as well as a napkin.
“Thanks.”
I frown as I think. What the hell am I going to write?
To the betting man’s wife who
works in an ice cream shop.
We met in Vegas last weekend
when you needed a stand in husband.
I lost my phone.
Je n'ai aucun moyen de vous contacter.
Translation: I have no way of finding you.
Wer auch immer eine Wette gewinnt mag niemals dasselbe sein.
Translation: Whoever wins a bet to you may never be the same.
I’m in New York looking for you.
Appelle-moin
Translation: Call me
0423788900
I sit and stare at the scratched note on the napkin.
I have officially lost my shit.
Ashley
I smile at the waiter as he puts our Margaritas on the table. It’s Saturday night and I’m out with my best friend Jenna for dinner.
“Thank you,” we both say as we pick up our much-needed cocktails. “And then what happened?” I frown.
“So, this little shit has put it on her and she rejected him.”