Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 35
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach
chapter added 2.6.07

"Ben Lawson, please."

"Who may I say is calling?" The polite woman on the other end of the phone answered.

"Rachel Connor."

"May I ask which case you're with, ma'am?" Shit!

"Oh. Um, it's a personal call." Did he even know my last name? "Tell him its Rachel from the Guggenheim exhibit."

Shit. He'd worked on that exhibit. Would that just confuse him?

"We had coffee," I said quickly.

"I'll put you right through, Ms. Connor."

I thought I heard her giggle before she switched me into muzak hell. I hoped I wasn't getting Ben into trouble at work. But if he didn't want personal calls at work, then he shouldn't have given me his card, right?

Good lord, was that a muzak version of 'Like I Love You' already?

"Rachel?" Ben's voice asked.

"Have you ever listened to the muzak you make your clients suffer through?" I said before I could stop myself. Maybe he thought muzak was good. Great. Insult the man before I even get to first base.

"Someone has to clear those rights. We get the service for free in return. Not my choice, believe me."

I laughed. "Well, I know the guy who did the song I was just listening to. I'm going to make sure that he gets the check for that."

"I can give you the number of the guy who does the muzak clearances."

"That's the entry level job, isn't it?" I asked. He seemed amused by my muzak rant. That was a good sign.

"Pretty much, yeah," he admitted. "I'm really glad you called, Rachel."

"Are you?"

"How do you feel about opera?"

I hated opera. "It's okay."

"La Boheme is opening on Broadway tonight, and since I cleared the rights, I have two tickets sitting here on my desk. But no one to go with me."

"Broadway? Opera doesn't usually open on Broadway, does it?"

"This is some crazy Australian director guy. Baz Lurhmann, ever heard of him?"

"If you tell me you've never seen any of his movies, I'm going to be so disappointed, Benjy."

"Benjy?" I think I heard him choke on his coffee with that one.

"I take it you don't get that often?"

"Um… no. And I have seen some of Baz's movies, but I wasn't sure if rock stars watched musicals."

"Of course we do. Long bus rides with nothing to do. Well, the boys blow each other up with video games. I like to watch movies. I love Baz."

Especially Moulin Rouge. Nick kissed me for the first time after singing "Your Song" because Bailey and I were talking about that movie and how romantic it was… but I wasn't thinking about that.

"Then would you like to go to the premiere with me tonight?"

I smiled. "I'd love to. Is it very fancy? Should I get dressed up?"

He chuckled. I liked that laugh. "It's not black tie, but I imagine people will be dressed up. I'll be coming straight from work, so I'll have on a suit."

"What color tie?"

That made him laugh. "Black suit, grey and black tie."

"That's really boring, Benjy."

"I'm counting on you to be my best accessory tonight."

"Good save," I said, opening my closet. Did I have anything for a night at the opera?

"Glad you liked it. Is it okay if we have dinner after the show? I have a conference call with LA at six, so I can't pick you up until about seven."

"I may have to snack beforehand, but that's fine. Gives me more time to find something to wear."

"Am I allowed to get your address, so that I can tell the driver where to pick you up?"

"I'm on Central Park. I could walk to the theatre."

"Absolutely not. I want to make an entrance with the loveliest woman in New York."

It was kind of nice to get asked out on a real date. I didn't get to do those much.

He had no idea. Hell, I had no idea. I maybe should have called Lola to check out the press situation, but who expects paparazzi at an opera opening? Okay, so this was a hip and groovy opera, but still…

I had my hair up, and no one expected me, so we were almost at the door before a photographer screamed my name. Ben looked at me quizzically and I smiled.

"I know you've never heard of me, but some people have."

I ran options through my head quickly. Should I pretend I hadn't heard anything? Too late, now a dozen photographers were calling my name. Say I was there with my new boyfriend? This was our first date, that wasn't fair to Ben.

Smile, pose, get inside. Sounded good.

Where was Lola when I needed her?

"Want to be famous, sweetie?" I asked him, and he flashed me that lovely grin.

"I want something to brag about at the water cooler tomorrow, sure."

Laughing, I turned around, feeling Ben's arm around my shoulders. It had been a long time since I'd had a guy just put his arm around me protectively. The one-night stands on tour didn't stick around long enough to hold my hand the next day.

"Rachel, what are you doing here? Who are you with? Where's Nick? No, where's Justin?"

Justin? Who knew anything about Justin? Damnit.

"Rock stars can like opera," I said, and I heard some laughter beyond the flashbulbs.

"Who are you with?"

I just smiled again and started towards the door. "I don't want to be late, guys. I hear they start these things on time."

Ben followed, glancing back at the still-popping flashes. "We have like twenty minutes."

"Better that they don't get a clear view of your face, hon. You're about to be stalked."

Safely inside the theatre, he smiled down at me. "Who are you, Rachel?"

"I told you already. I'm in a rock band."

"But those photographers knew who you were!"

I smiled. "Go home and Google me tonight. You'll see."

"Who's Nick? And Justin? Should I be worried?"

I snickered, heading towards the bar. "Am I allowed to drink before this thing?"

"I'm not buying you a drink until I know if someone is going to try to beat me up tomorrow."

"No. Promise. When you Google me, I'm sure you'll read all about me and Nick. We broke up a couple of months ago."

Three. And a week or so.

"They're just making shit up about Justin."

Not really. But no one was supposed to know anything about that. I needed to call him.

My phone rang and I pulled it out of my bag, blinking as Lola's name flashed on the screen. She couldn't… they… "I need to take this," I told Ben, and he shrugged.

"Sure. What do you want? Wine? Or something stronger?"

"Something strong that I can down quickly," I said, pushing the 'talk' button. "Midori Sour?"

"Girl drink," he snorted, and I waved him away.

"We can talk wine later, buddy," I said. "Lola?"

"Talking to your mysterious new boyfriend?" she asked, and I was too stunned to respond.

"You are fucking joking. We just walked into the building."

"What, you think you're the only person in New York with a cell phone? I just got three calls for a statement! Damnit! Four!" I could hear a phone ringing in the background.

"Shit," I muttered, as Ben smiled over at me from the line for the bar.

"Who is he? Why are you at media events without telling me? Did they actually say that you're at an opera?"

"Rock stars can like opera!"

"You hate opera. It's one of those things in your rider with brown walls in hotels."

"It is not!"

"Okay, maybe that's Jeremy. Still. What are you doing?" She shrieked the last question and I bit back a giggle. Lola hated it when I laughed during her rants.

"I'm at the premiere of Baz Lurhmann's La Boheme with a… friend."

"Oh. Baz. I can spin that."

"Spin?"

"Rock stars do not like opera, Rachel, no matter what you say. You need to be hip and down with your peeps and listening to music from the street and shit. Not opera!"

"Are you annoyed with the opera thing or that I'm out with a guy and didn't tell you?"

"Both! Who is this guy?"

"He's…" Ben was leaning on the bar, talking to the bartender and motioning to me. He was surely telling the guy that I needed the girly drink.

"He's nice," I told Lola. "He's just a normal guy, with a normal job, and until about five minutes ago, he had no idea who I was."

She sighed. "You like this guy?"

"I don't know. This is our first date. I met him at the museum the other day and we ended up having coffee and I called him today and he had tickets to this thing and I said yes. Until the fucking paparazzi started screaming my name, I sorta felt like this is how normal people have relationships. Please don't let them fuck it up. Don't give out his name and his stats and have people start hounding him. Can I have a little bit of privacy? Please?"

"Rachel, no matter what I do, someone is going to figure out who he is. I bet they've already got a list of who's at the premiere and they asking around to see if anyone knows who he is."

"But I don't want him to think that I did it. Okay? Just… make something up. He's just a friend, whatever."

He was heading back to me, carrying a glass of wine and my bright green drink.

"Okay," Lola said. "Have fun. Enjoy the freaking opera."

I did, surprisingly. There was so much happening on the stage that I didn't pay a lot of attention to the music. Which was probably bad, but I hated opera.

"You didn't listen to a thing, did you?" Ben asked.

"It was beautiful. I loved the sets and the costumes, everything. I assume it doesn't normally take place in the fifties."

He laughed, holding out a hand to help me up from my seat. "No. But you didn't listen, did you?"

"A little," I admitted.

He put his hand on my shoulder, steering me out of our box. "Have you seen 'Rent'?"

"A friend of mine was in it this summer. Yes. Why, is that our next date?"

He laughed. "Philistine. 'Rent' is based on 'La Boheme,' which you might have picked up on if you'd been paying attention to the libretto."

I smiled at him, about to say something before someone he knew interrupted us. He knew a lot of people here. We'd shared the box with some of his work colleagues, and spent intermission chatting with them. I knew at least a couple of them recognized me, but they didn't say anything about it. He was probably going to be teased at work tomorrow.

He told everyone we were going to dinner when they asked about our post-theatre plans and finally we were out on the street, alone.

"This is where I admit that I didn't make us reservations anywhere," he admitted sheepishly and I smiled.

"Don't you have a secretary to do those sorts of things?"

"Yeah. I do. And I still didn't do it."

"I know a place," I said, taking his hand and pulling him down the street.

"Are there going to be photographers?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"Doubtful."

"Damn. I liked my three minutes of fame. What did you tell your manager about me?"

He'd been waiting for hours to ask that, I could tell.

"I told her that you're a friend. That's all."

"That's all?" he questioned, and I smiled up at him.

"I don't know yet," I said. "This is our first date."

He tucked a stray curl behind my ear, and I stopped walking in the middle of Times Square, letting the crowd move around us. I liked his eyes, and the way he was looking at me.

"Do you kiss on the first date, Rachel?" he asked, and I grinned, leaning up towards him.

"Rock stars have very loose morals," I said, kissing him. It was sweet, soft kiss, and for a minute, it felt like we were all alone in the middle of the busiest street in New York.

"I need to date more rock stars," he whispered, moving away from me, and I laughed.

"Most of them aren't as cool as me," I said, starting to walk again.

"No? Who's that one? Britney Spears? I bet she's nice."

"She's like half your age, baby. And she's a pop star, not a rock star."

"There's a difference?" he asked, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer.

"Um, yeah. The biggest one being that I write my own songs and play an instrument."

"What do you play?"

"Guitar. And I sing."

"She sings, right? My niece likes her."

I snickered. "Then you don't need to Google me. Just ask your niece. How old is she?"

"Jessa was fourteen last week."

"Yeah. She'll know me. Mention Nick and Justin to her. She'll definitely know them."

"Justin Timberland?"

Was he really this clueless or just a good actor? I decided to go with the former. "That's a shoe. The pop star is Timberlake. Yes."

"He's all over her walls."

"Assure her I never dated him."

Tapped that ass, yes. Dated, no.

"Horrible rumors, huh?" he asked. "What will they say about me?"

"Hopefully nothing. Are you okay being my unidentified companion?"

"Will they start calling me Mr. Connor?"

"Maybe. We're here."

I stepped into line and he looked around. "This is not a restaurant, Rachel."

"No. Best rice and lamb in the city."

"It better be. We're waiting in line for a sidewalk cart," he said, looking down to the corner.

"Five bucks. My treat."

"You're a cheap date. I thought rock stars had expensive taste."

"We have eclectic taste. If you want to walk back to my place, I'll open an expensive bottle of wine to go with our cheap dinner."

He grinned at that, and tried to pretend it was about the wine. "You like wine?"

Yeah, I was inviting him back to my place. But I wasn't planning on sleeping with him tonight.

Maybe.

"My family owns a winery on Long Island. I like wine."

"I love the Long Island wineries. Where?"

"North Fork."

His eyes widened. "You're Rachel merlot!"

I yelled in shock and covered my mouth as a couple of people turned to look at me.

"Connor Winery?" he asked and I whacked him.

"You've never heard of my band but you know my merlot? What the fuck?"

"I'm an interesting guy, Rachel. Not all lawyers are boring."

"I never would have said that."

"Jon and Patrick are your brothers? And Kate… you look like your mom."

"Oh my god. You know their names?"

"I go up there every summer and buy a couple of cases to get me through the winter. I love your merlot. And the Jonathan…" He hesitated, talking about my dad. "It's wonderful, that blush. Great loss, your father."

I felt tears spring to my eyes, and I looked away, blinking them back. "You knew Dad?"

"I just met him a couple of times. He was great at the tasting bar."

Dad loved running the tasting bar. He'd charm all the customers into trying everything and they'd leave half-drunk, weighted down by cases of wine.

I felt Ben's arm around my shoulders, and he kissed my temple quickly. "You're the famous sister that they're so proud of."

I smiled, looking up at him as we took a step forward in line. "That's me. The family rebel. I can't believe you know them."

"I don't know them, really. I just buy wine from them."

"They know you. I'm going to call Jon tonight and ask him about Ben Lawson, the lawyer from New York."

He smiled down at me. "Not tonight. It's already late and we haven't even had dinner yet."

I returned the smile. "Tomorrow, then."

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