Jackpot! Read online

  “I’m okay. I pretty much threw up all last night and this morning, but I think it’s all out of my system.”

  Danny’s fake food poisoning theory flashed through my brain.

  “So, are you free tonight?” he asked, “Want to get together?”

  “Sure.” My smile was so wide I was afraid he’d be able to see it through the phone.

  “Pick you up at eight?” Drew asked.

  “Okay,” I said, dashing to my closet to start pulling clothes off hangers so I could throw prospective outfits onto the bed. “Do you know where I live?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you soon,” he said before ending the call.

  I stood there for a moment and had a silent argument with myself. ‘I’m using Drew and I hate myself for that.’

  Myself answered, ‘Yeah, but you’re going to be loaded!’

  ‘But he’s a really nice guy, and he really likes you.’

  ‘You’ll pay him off,’ myself answered. And that was how I rationalized for the moment that seducing Drew and having his baby was okay.

  I ripped off my clothes and jumped in the shower. It was already 6:40, so I had an hour and twenty minutes to make myself look like someone Drew wanted to have sex with. Sad, but that was reality. The words con artist, manipulator and deceitful swindler were coming to mind, but I had to block them out. The words eight million dollars meant a lot more right now.

  In the shower, I began to think about what was really going on, which was how much I was enjoying my potential sperm donor’s personality. After all the years together at work, it took my mother’s crazy dream to buy grandchildren to get me to go on a date with Drew. Ma was indirectly making me give him a chance, and part of me felt thankful to her for that.

  On the other hand, who was I kidding? What were the odds that Drew and I would actually work out as a couple? Relationships with men never seemed to pan out for me. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been in love. I barely knew John when we got married, and Max, that was security, not love. I didn’t have a lot of faith in myself when it came to men. That was the sad, sad, secret I kept to myself. John had really done some damage to me and my self-esteem, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the guts to trust someone ever again.

  I heard my phone ring, but I couldn’t get it since I had shampoo in my hair. I knew this was Frankie’s call, and I felt like telling her she should be more worried about her daughter’s mental state, rather than if she made it home safe. Ma was turning me into a neurotic, conflicted mess.

  After the whole hair process, which meant towel drying, applying two different kinds of hair gel, blow-drying, flat-ironing, putting hair crème on the ends, and spraying enough hairspray to become a fire hazard, I decided on a slinky black dress and silver sling-backs. I went heavy on the make-up but light on the perfume, because I didn’t want Drew to think I was trying too hard. Around my neck, I wore a circular emerald, which ironically was given to Ma by my dad, thirty-some years earlier. Frankie had given it to me for my birthday, right after I got divorced. She told me that of all the things Dad gave her, this was the most special.

  The story behind the necklace was that my parents had had a big fight about something really silly, but it was the first time they’d ever been so mad at each other that they didn’t speak for a couple days. Ma told me that even though she knew she was right, she decided to give in and make amends. So she went out and bought her husband an “I’m sorry” card and left it on his pillow that night.

  After my dad read the card, he apologized as well. They hugged and kissed and everything was back to normal, even though according to Ma, she had compromised her opinion to make peace. The next night, when Frankie went to bed, she noticed a tiny box lying on her pillow. She told me she was shaking while she opened it. Inside was the necklace. Dad told her he gave it to her to show how much he appreciated her willingness to make the first move to make up.

  Ma told me that the necklace symbolized how much she and Dad meant to each other. So here I was, wearing this beautiful and valuable keepsake on a date I was going on for the sole purpose of tricking a guy into knocking me up. The necklace really was beautiful, but I wondered if I could hate myself anymore than I currently did, and if I was even remotely good enough to wear it.

  At 7:55, five minutes before my date was to arrive, I poured myself a glass of Pinot and took one last look in the mirror. Without sounding like a bitch, I had to admit I looked really hot. It was perhaps the best I’d felt about my physical appearance in years. The sad part was, on the inside I felt like the devil.

  But when I answered the door at 8:05 and saw Drew standing there dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, I felt like I looked stupid. I was dressed for a fancy dinner date, Drew was dressed for Taco Bell! He looked really cute, though, especially since he had shaved off his goat-tee. What a difference!

  “Wow…” was the first word he said.

  I smiled, realizing that the black dress was a fabulous choice.

  “You look amazing, but…”

  “What?”

  “Would you mind changing? I’m taking you somewhere really awesome, but you might get cold.”

  “Wait a minute!” I wanted to say, “You want me to take off my perfect outfit? Not a chance.”

  Instead I just said, “No problem, I’ll just go get a sweater.”

  “Look, would you mind wearing jeans and a sweatshirt?” he asked with a smile, “Trust me, where we’re going, you’ll be a lot happier in warmer clothes.”

  I had a mission. The dress was part of it. Now the dress was about to become history. I was being asked to wear jeans and a sweatshirt, not the clothing one wants to be in to seduce someone.

  I’d have to make the best of it. The big dilemma suddenly became True Religion or Rockin Republic? The True Religions made my butt look better, but the Rockin Republics were a little more slimming. Before I even reached my bedroom, I chose to have the better butt for the evening. As I put on the jeans, along with a black t-shirt and a North face jacket, I thought once again about how wrong this was. Drew was actually romancing me with this mystery date. He was trying to impress me, woo me. He had no idea that his date had a goal, an objective. I felt horrible. Oddly enough, I chose to keep the necklace on, even though it didn’t match my new outfit.

  When I came back into the living room, I found Drew enjoying a glass of wine. “Perfect,” he said of my new outfit. Then he held up the glass and added, “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” I replied. I liked the idea that he felt comfortable enough to pour himself a glass of wine without asking. Drew was so down to earth. He was the complete opposite of uptight. He wasn’t tense, he wasn’t edgy. He was easy going and calm. Being with Drew was like taking a Xanax.

  After the wine and some casual conversation, Drew suggested we head out. I asked him where we were going, but he wouldn’t say anything. He seemed really excited about it. I had to admit I was too, but I kept reminding myself of why I was really here. What had to matter the most was making sure the date went well enough to end it in bed. I loathed myself for thinking that way, but business was business, and this was a pretty big business deal.

  In Drew’s Jeep Cherokee, we headed down Lakeshore Drive, pretty far south. I started to put the pieces together when I heard rattling in his back seat. I turned around and spotted a cooler filled with ice. Beside the cooler were a couple of big blankets and another bag. Now I knew we were having a picnic, and I had a pretty good idea about where it was taking place.

  A few minutes later, Drew turned into the parking lot of Soldier Field, home of the Chicago Bears. He took a spot right in front where the players parked their cars during games.

  “I thought this would be more fun than eating at a restaurant,” he said. Then he got out of the car, opened the back door and started taking out the cooler.

  “How are we getting in there?” I asked.

  “My buddy’s work
ing tonight. He’s a security guard.” Then Drew pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hey… Yeah, we’re here… Okay, cool. Thanks bro.”

  He put his cell back in his coat pocket and continued getting all the stuff out of the car. I grabbed the blankets and followed him to a nearby entrance. We stood there for a minute until the door opened and a big huge guy, who looked more like a football player than a security guard appeared. Drew put the cooler down.

  “Hey, dude,” he said as he shook the guy’s hand.

  “Drew, what’s up?” answered the guy.

  “Eddie, this is Jamie. Jamie, my buddy, Eddie Walsh.”

  “Nice to meet you, Eddie,” I said as I shook his hand. He seemed really sweet.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” he replied, “You look different than you do on T.V. You look thinner in person.”

  I frowned. He didn’t seem so sweet anymore.

  Eddie led us into the stadium and we walked for a long time, during which he asked me questions about the lottery. He wanted to know if I ever got stalked.

  “The only stalker I’ve ever had is him,” I joked, pointing to Drew.

  “But all the stalking finally paid off,” Drew answered.

  “Yes, it did,” I flirted. I rolled my eyes at the irony.

  “Would you guys mind waiting to hit on each other till I’m gone?” asked Eddie.

  We continued walking till we reached the field. It was eerily quiet, but I liked it. Only a few lights were on, and I felt like if the whole place was candlelit, this is exactly what it would look like.

  “This is really something,” I exclaimed.

  Both Drew and Eddie agreed. The three of us were the only people standing on this gigantic field where tens of thousands watch the Bears, and millions of viewers watch on T.V.

  Before tonight I’d been here only two other times. The first was when I was really young. The Bears were playing the Steelers and I remembered Ma telling me to keep shouting, “Go Bears!” And I did it, even though I didn’t really know why I was doing it.

  The next time I came to Soldier Field was for the famous U2 concert with Max, the night we slept together. Maybe history would repeat itself and I’d be sleeping with Drew tonight. I hoped.

  “Well, I’m out of here,” said Eddie, “Call me when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Thanks, Eddie,” said Drew, “We’ll do.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled, and Eddie was gone.

  “Ready?” asked Drew.

  “For what?”

  “The fifty,” he exclaimed with a smile, motioning to the middle of the field. When we reached the fifty yard line, I spread a couple blankets out and Drew began to unpack the cooler, taking out a couple beers and a bottle of white wine. The next items he pulled out surprised me.

  “You brought sandwiches from Potbelly’s?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” I exclaimed. Drew had chosen to bring dinner from my favorite sandwich shop, located a couple blocks away from the station. I was always telling my co-workers (including Drew) that if the line wasn’t so long, I’d eat there every day. I loved the toasted bread and melted cheese that went on every sandwich. The best part about a Potbelly’s sandwich, in my opinion, though, was the stuff on it; tons of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, spices, mustard, vinaigrette, and best of all, hot peppers.

  The fact that Drew actually chose this for our dinner showed unbelievable thoughtfulness to me. He had done all this for me. ME. No one had ever done something like this. Sure, Max had taken me to expensive restaurants, and we’d taken lavish trips, and he’d bought me expensive gifts, but this was different. This meant more. No one had ever paid attention or seemed to care about the little things that made me happy. Except for Drew. And it made me realize that although Max loved me, Max wasn’t very considerate. He didn’t really know what I liked and what I didn’t like. He didn’t even know my favorite color, probably because he didn’t care. For someone to take the time to remember things about me was foreign. And wonderful.

  While unwrapping the food, I watched my date uncork the wine. “Drew?” I said.

  He looked up at me. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for the sandwiches.”

  “Sure.”

  “No, I mean it.”

  With a cute smile, he responded, “It’s just a sandwich.”

  “You really pay attention to things, don’t you?”

  “Just with people I care about,” he said with a smile, “I think I get that from my mother. She was a really kind and giving person from what I remember, and she used to tell me, ‘Don’t just listen to people, hear them.’ I never forgot that.”

  “Wow,” I responded, “That’s so true. How many people really hear what we say?” At this moment, I was thinking about how much my mother needed to heed Drew’s mother’s advice.

  “Not many,” agreed Drew.

  “When did she die?”

  “When I was ten,” he said, “Car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all I said. But what I really wanted to say was that I’d experienced the same thing when I was three, and that my dad had died in a car accident, and that I too grew up with only one parent, and that I understood him better than he thought. I was afraid, though. I didn’t want to get too close to Drew emotionally, given the true reason I was here tonight.

  A few minutes later, just as we started eating, the most amazing thing happened. All of the lights came on. The place lit up and was as bright as it was on the night of a game.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed.

  Drew smiled at my reaction, and then, in the bright lights, two people sitting smack in the middle of Soldier Field, the only people (with the exception of Eddie) in the entire stadium, ate Potbelly’s sandwiches, drank wine, and talked about everything.

  Politics, music, movies, books. I was having a hard time understanding how I could have missed the fact that Drew was so intelligent. He knew about things. But I’d never taken the time to talk with him enough to realize that. For his career, Drew had chosen to be a camera operator, a job for which he was clearly overqualified. But that didn’t mean he was uneducated or not well read. Look at me. I was the lottery girl. Did people assume I wasn’t smart either? Drew Conrad was very smart, and I was finding that quality as appealing as his perfect biceps.

  As the two of us became more and more at ease with each other, our conversations shifted to topics such as my first kiss, Drew’s first kiss and the celebrities each of us wanted to have sex with. Finally, with no more wine, but with plenty of unused energy, we ended up singing every Bruce Springsteen song we could think of. And as I looked into his beautiful green eyes that lit up as much as Soldier Field when we sang Glory Days together, I wanted to kiss him, and touch him and hold him and yes, sleep with him. And it scared me to death, because I didn’t want to do it for the money. I wanted to do it for me.

  As we cleaned up the picnic and folded up the blankets, both of us were giggling, each trying to think of more songs off the Born to Run CD.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked Drew.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you know my favorite color?”

  Drew thought about it for a second, and then answered, “Actually, yes. I think I do.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m going to go with blue,” he answered with lots of self-assurance, “navy blue.”

  As we walked off the field, I hid my face behind the blankets I was carrying.

  “Am I right?” he asked, pulling the blankets down and revealing my big grin.

  “How did you know?” I asked with a laugh.

  Chapter 15

  After saying good-bye to Eddie, we got into the car. Drew immediately turned on the heat, since the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees in the three hours we were out on the field, and both of us were freezing. I couldn’t feel my nose, and when I looked at Drew, his cheeks were bright red. I watche
d him cup his hands in his face and exhale really hard to get some warm air on them.

  God, he was cute! I wondered how I could have overlooked so many wonderful things about him for so long. But although a great feeling, my crush on Drew was throwing a huge wrench into the master plan, which was all about money, money, money! There was no time to throw unexpected emotions into the mix.

  “Ready?” he asked me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to warm me up.

  “Yeah,” I smiled, “Hey Drew?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This was really fun,” I said with a smile. Then I did something that shocked both him and I. I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, soft and slow. I couldn’t believe I did it. It was as if I wasn’t even here anymore, and like some sweet, sexy woman had taken my place. The woman had enough self-confidence and enough courage to show what she was feeling, very unlike me, the coward who never showed her cards.

  When my lips first touched Drew’s, I realized how cold he truly was because his lips and even his tongue felt like ice. Not for long, though. We sat in his car and kissed for awhile. Not aggressive “I want sex” kisses, just sweet, tender kisses, with lots of holding, hugging and cuddling. And when we finally got going, the entire drive home was silent. Neither of us felt talking was necessary. I think we were both enjoying what had just happened, and let’s be honest, looking forward to more of it in a warmer, more comfortable atmosphere.

  When we pulled up to my building, it seemed obvious Drew was coming up to my place. It was even more of a sure thing when we found a parking spot right in front. I was sure this was a sign. My building had four meter spots in front of it, and during the six years I’d lived there I’d never seen one available until right now.

  Drew quickly took the spot and when we got out of the car, he grabbed my hand and rushed me into the building and into the elevator. The kissing began the second the elevator doors closed. Now our kisses weren’t the sweet, tender kisses like the ones in the car. They were, in fact, the aggressive “I want sex” kisses.

  The elevator reached my floor and I scrambled to find my keys, while Drew began softly kissing my neck. The second I got the door open, he practically pushed me inside and slammed it shut. A few moments later, clothes began to fly off and we headed toward the bedroom. By the time we reached my bed (which was covered with most of my rejection outfits) we were both in nothing but our underwear.