My dad just squeezed my shoulder and said, “Jesse Oliver’s not gonna know what hit him. And if he messes with you, then he’s really not gonna know what hit him. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Tone down the violence, Dad,” I said, but I was still smiling. It was kind of hard to stop.
Angelo kissed my cheek and said, “As beautiful as always. Roux, you have a talent.”
“I know,” she said, humble as ever as she leaned against the countertop. “Hey, do you guys ever do, like, family game night? Because I kick ass at Boggle.”
“No,” we all chorused.
“And I have to go,” I added. “I’m late, I have to meet Jesse at the Flatiron Building in, like, ten minutes.”
“I’ll walk you ladies out,” Angelo offered.
“‘Idiotic,’” Roux suddenly said. We all turned to look at her and I realized she was studying my dad’s crossword puzzle. “Forty-nine Down is ‘idiotic.’”
My dad and I both zoomed to her side to inspect the grid. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” my dad muttered, reaching for his pen.
“I could’ve sworn it was ‘asinine,’” I added.
“Well, my work here is done.” Roux sighed. “Ciao ciao, parents. Thanks for the chili and good times.”
“Bye!” I said as Angelo escorted us into the elevator.
“Be safe!” I heard my mom yell.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Roux said.
“Let’s get this party started,” I muttered.
Chapter 23
“So,” I said, “are you trying to kill me?”
“What?” Jesse laughed.
“Sharp blades, a frozen body of water. I see what you’re up to, and frankly, I’m on to your clever plan.”
“Maggie,” Jesse said, “it’s ice skating.”
We were standing at Wollman Rink in Central Park. Well, Jesse was standing there. I was standing five feet away with my arms crossed, refusing to move.
“It’ll be fun!” he promised.
“Oh, falling on my ass on the ice, what fun!” I said.
“You’re not going to fall,” he promised. “Look, I’m here, I’ll catch you.”
The date had started off really well. Not that I had a lot to compare it to, other than every single date I had seen on TV and in the movies, but I had been enjoying myself. Jesse had met me at the Flatiron Building, just as he promised, and I don’t want to sound boastful or anything, but he looked damn good. Curly hair everywhere, blue checkered shirt under a gray V-neck sweater, and khakis. I was pretty sure that Roux was going to pretend to slit her throat over the khakis, but Jesse wore them well. He had a peacoat, too, reminding me of the jacket he had put over me on Halloween night, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw it.
“We meet again,” he said with a grin, and then he kissed me, and honestly, if the date had ended right there, it would still probably have been one of the best nights of my life.
“We do,” I replied. “So what are we doing? Because I’m planning on being impressed.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he said. “You’re going to be impressed. They’re going to have to invent a new word because ‘impressed’ won’t even begin to cover it. We’re going to start uptown and work our way downtown.”
We both paused.
“Uh,” I said.
“I am so sorry!” he said. “I was speaking geographically, I swear! Totally not a metaphor for, like, seducing you. I promise.”
Seduce away, baby, I wanted to say, but I just shook my head instead. “Don’t worry. I always speak geographically.”
We took my town car after Jesse had a quick, whispered conversation with the driver, even though Jesse was like, “Um, the subway is right there,” which is why I liked him. He’d rather take the subway even though his family probably could have afforded a fleet of cars to drive him around Columbus Circle for twelve hours straight! He’s a man of the people!
And then we got to Wollman Rink.
“Um, can’t we just say we did this?” I asked him. “I get nervous wearing other people’s shoes.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Because they’re all warm and moist and then I have to say the word ‘moist’ and ugggggh.” I shuddered. “I hate that word. So that’s why I don’t ice skate.”
Jesse crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at me. “Ah,” he said. “I get it.”
I sighed. “Great, thank you so much. Why don’t we take a walk and get some of the roasted peanuts and—”
“You don’t know how to skate.”
“I do know how. I just choose not to.”
“You are such a bad liar!”
Was there a memo going around the city telling people that? “Well, yes, I am,” I admitted. “But I’m not lying about choosing not to skate.”
“Oh, so you know how to skate, then.”
“Um …” I glanced at the ice rink, filled with skaters and impending doom.
“Look,” Jesse said. “I’m really good. I play ice hockey in the winter here. I can teach you.” He came over and held his hands out to me. “See? We get to hold hands the whole time. Kinda romantic.”
“Will it be romantic when I fall and cause a domino reaction that sends thirteen people to the hospital?”