Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

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

"Ben Lawson," I said to Jon.

"What?" he said, perplexed. "Who?"

"Ben Lawson," I repeated. Jon knew everyone who came into the winery, especially if they bought a couple of cases every summer. If Jon didn't know who he was, then Ben was probably a crazy stalker or something.

I didn't think he was that good of an actor, though. He was really sincere last night when he'd figured out that I was Rachel Connor of Connor Vineyards.

And a crazy stalker would have flipped out when I kicked him out at two in the morning without sex, right? There had been making out, but no sex.

I had to check him out before the sex.

"He a customer?" Jon asked.

"Yes. Lawyer from New York."

I could hear a keyboard in the background. "You can't look him up!" I complained. "That's cheating!"

"You think I remember faces, Rache? I remember orders. Ben Lawson. Yeah… last… wow, seven years. A case of the Jon blush, the Patrick and… two cases of the Rachel merlot," he said with a snicker. "You have a fan, Rache?"

"I have lots of fans, Jon. This guy is different."

"Oh, don't tell me you're dating him!"

"Why not? Is there something wrong with him?"

"He comes in every summer with a different girl, but no."

Ben had not mentioned any girlfriends in conjunction with the Long Island trips. Interesting.

"Are they cute?"

Jon laughed. "Sure. He's a nice Jewish lawyer who makes enough money to buy four or five cases from us every year. They've all been cute girls."

"Thought you said you don't remember faces?" The girls must have been cute if Jon remembered them. "What's his type?"

"Are you dating this guy or not? Tell me no."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to break his heart and we can't afford to lose the customer!" he complained and I just laughed.

"Or you won't break his heart and you'll get married and we'll have to give him the wine for free. Either way, we lose the sale."

"Shut up! Why must you be so horrible about my love life?"

"It's what big brothers do, Rache. Seriously, are you dating this guy?" Now the question sounded sincere. He'd moved from big brother to dad. I had to admit that I sometimes liked it that Jon was so protective of me.

"According to the New York Post I am." I looked down at the picture on page six. They had his name, and Lola swore to me that she hadn't told anyone. I knew that was true, because she reminded me I'd never told her his name.

It was nearly noon, and he hadn't called me. If I wasn't famous, and I was in the New York Post, I think I'd call the person who got me there before noon.

Maybe he didn't read the Post. Maybe he only read the Wall Street Journal or some important lawyer paper.

I knew I should call him, but I was too scared about what he'd say, so I'd called my brother instead.

"So does that mean you are? Did that rag actually print something true?"

"We went out last night to the premiere of an opera."

"You hate opera."

I started to tell him that rock stars could like opera, but this was my brother. "It was a cool opera. I was able to ignore the music."

"You must like this guy if you suffered through opera for him."

"It wasn't… yeah," I admitted. "He's nice. And he's normal."

"Not a rock star, you mean."

"Yeah. I'm trying to be over my rock star phase."

Cheap sex with Justin Timberlake notwithstanding. That was just sex. Not a relationship.

"Good," Jon said. "I can't say I know him, but he comes in every summer and always tries everything and chats with us. He was nice about Dad."

"Yeah. He was nice about Dad last night when he figured out who I was."

"What, he didn't know the winery part of your bio?"

"He doesn't listen to pop music. Just opera and classical. He has no idea who I am."

He didn't. And it was nice last night. But I was pretty sure he knew now, and that's why he wasn't calling me. So much for having a normal relationship.

Jon laughed. "Blow to the ego, honey?"

"No, seriously. I liked it."

"Good. I hope he likes you, or he'll have to deal with me." The brotherly Jon was back.

I sighed. "I know. What if he breaks my heart? Will you refuse to sell him wine?"

"No. But I might come up with a service fee, just for him."

"You would."

My cell rang, and I looked at it. Ben?

"Get that," Jon told me. "Probably your new boyfriend. I'll tell the girls the best they can hope for with this one is litigation advice, not concert tickets."

"I can still set them up with tickets. I don't need a boyfriend for that."

I hung up with Jon and picked up my cell. "Hello?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't yell at me.

"I don't care, Connie!" Ben yelled. "This is the first chance I've had to make a call out this morning. Tell them I will call back."

"Busy morning?" I said.

"You're famous, Rachel," he said. "Like, really famous. Like almost Justin Timberlake famous, Jessa says, only you're not a solo artist, and you make rock music, well, sorta, like rock pop, but better than Nick Carter, even though his solo album is good, your stuff is way better and you should have helped him more. She'd like to know why you're not on his album. CD. Download or whatever the kids are doing now."

He was back to his normal voice by the end of his rant, but he'd switched into an impression of a teenage girl somewhere in the middle there and I was pretty sure he wasn't mad at me.

"I sang backing on a song that didn't make it on the album," I said, trying not to laugh at him.

"I won't tell her that. Unless you want her entire school to know. She's already asked if you can meet all her friends."

"I think I have to wait until at least the fourth date before I'm meeting the niece's friends."

"How about on the third date you meet Jessa, and I'll take a picture and that will be good enough?"

"Deal." Was I negotiating my relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet? Maybe I should drop the romance and just hire Ben as my lawyer. He was good.

He sighed as I heard his secretary's voice in the background. "All calls, Connie," he said. "Even my father. Give me ten minutes."

I heard her voice again, and then he answered. "Yes, it's her. Why hasn't she thanked me for anything yet, Connie?"

"I had a lovely time last night," I said, hoping to get his secretary out of trouble.

"So did I," he said. "But your doorbell had better ring in about two minutes or Connie's going to need a new job. Although, in her defense, she never signed on to be the assistant to the most famous 'unidentified companion' in the city."

"I get presents for ruining your life?"

"I did ask her to send you something before I realized that my phone was ringing off the hook. Which means you definitely should have gotten it by now."

"Maybe the phone was ringing so much she never got a chance to order it."

"Likely excuse," he said, but his tone was light.

"So the world's been calling you? I'm sorry. I swear it wasn't my manager who gave them your name. I never even told her your name."

"That embarrassed of me?"

"No!" I said quickly. "Not at all. I just… I'm sorry this happened."

He laughed. "No need to apologize, Rachel. It's fun. I know you're used to it and all, but for me, it's amusing. For the day, I'm the big man in the lunchroom."

"Glad I could help your ego. Did you tell the other lawyers embarrassing secrets about me?"

"I am a gentleman. I never kiss and tell. I told my friends that you are lovely and sweet and charming. But I just said 'no comment' to the press. Although I am sure that our marketing department is doing more today than they have all month."

"What did you tell Jessa?"

"Nothing. I couldn't get a word in edgewise. She called me, and Connie put her right through, because I always take Jessa's calls and she proceeded to talk very quickly for about twenty minutes."

"Shouldn't she be in school?"

"Lunch," he said with a sigh. "I'm pretty sure she went hungry today, because she didn't draw a breath, let alone take time to take a bite of anything. I might be the king of the lunchroom, but she is queen of the school."

"Did she tell you about Nick?"

"I know that's the guy you were with for a while, but which group was he in?"

"Backstreet Boys. I have two nieces, well, three, but two old enough to care, and when I was dating him… dude, they had the Backstreet Boy and me. Queens of the universe."

"Tell them I'm sorry I'm only famous for being the 'unidentified companion.'"

"They've still got me," I teased. "They're good. Too many connections to famous people only spoils them."

"Wouldn't want to do that."

My buzzer sounded and I jumped up. "This might be my present."

"For Connie's sake, it had better be. I'd hate to have to fire her. She's a nice woman and can actually make the stupid shared calendar on my computer work."

The doorman told me I had a package and I told him to send it up.

"Even if she screws up, everyone's allowed a mistake. You didn't have to send me a present at all."

"Don't famous people expect presents? And do things like fire their assistants for minor transgressions? You need to help me with this fame thing, Rachel." I could hear him shuffling papers on his end of the phone. I should probably let him go.

"I'm no good, Benjy. I'm still nice. I've tried to be all diva and demand weird things in my rider, but I just end up feeling stupid. As much as Jeremy tells me I'm a diva, I'm not."

"Jeremy…. Jeremy… is he the guy in the other band? The not Backstreet Boys that's a solo artist now?"

"That's Justin."

"Justin. Right. Jessa thinks you're dating him. Or were dating him, and she doesn't know why you broke up with him to date me, but she doesn't care, because it's so cool!" He shrieked the 'cool' part. "I know you told me you weren't dating him last night, and I tried to dissuade her of that notion, but did I mention that she talked at me for twenty minutes without stopping to breathe?"

"Sorry."

"I really love Jessa. She was the first of the grandchildren, and the only one for about three years, and I'm her favorite uncle, because I take her book shopping and I've read her all of the Harry Potters…"

If I didn't already like this guy, that clinched it.

"But I never realized my sweet, smart, adorable Jessa was a teenager until today."

"Sorry." Suddenly I had a flashback of Aaron kissing Katie and I knew exactly how he felt. I'd never been so glad to see my niece in her flannel pjs as I was when we got back to the hotel and she'd changed out of the dress that made her look so grown up.

"Eh. I had to learn that lesson somehow. At least I got a great date out of this lesson."

There was a knock on the door. "I think my present is here."

"Don't tip the guy. I already took care of that."

He probably hadn't tipped my doorman, however. Delivery guys didn't get to come up to my apartment. Joe handed me a plan brown paper bag and took the tip I offered him.

My present wasn't flowers?

I opened the bag and smiled. Better.

I picked up the phone again as I slid the containers out of the bag. "Three?" I asked him, and he laughed.

"You just told me you liked the rice pudding, not which flavors. So I picked a few."

I hadn't had anything for dessert last night, so we'd discussed our favorite desserts in the city when we were finished with our dinner.

Well, in between making out. No wonder I liked this guy, he could talk food and kiss.

I told him I loved the rice pudding from a place in the village and he agreed… and now I had about three pounds of rice pudding in various flavors on my counter.

That was a really, really good present.

"I love it. It's the perfect present."

"I figured flowers were really overdone."

"Flowers would have been great. So… can you come over and help me eat all of this?" I said, hoping that I was keeping my tone light.

He hesitated a second. "I haven't had lunch yet."

"Thought you were king of the lunchroom?" I teased.

"Well, it might have been a coffee break," he said. "Should I pick up sandwiches or are we just having rice pudding for lunch?"

"Sandwiches are good."

Although we might not make it to sandwiches… why hadn't I fucked him last night? Suddenly I couldn't wait to see him again.

"Twenty minutes," he said, and hung up.

This counted as a second date, right? So I wasn't that much of a slut if I fucked him on the second date. Maybe.

Who cared?

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