Jackpot! Read online

  As I continued to watch him and think about how many times I’d misjudged him, he looked up, saw me, and happily waved through the glass. My heart skipped a beat. I smiled and waved, and our eyes stayed locked for a few moments until I heard I was being paged and had to go back to my office.

  I sat at my desk doing three things. First, I was talking on the phone. The woman who’d had me paged was Marcy Rosenberg, Public Relations director for The East Bank Club. Marcy and her team wanted me to appear in a commercial. I would be working out while speaking. My line was supposed to be something like, “It’s harder to win the lottery than it is to have a good body.” I thought it sounded stupid, and I really didn’t want to do it. Plus, I felt like being in the commercial and saying that line would make people think I was conceited and thought I had a good body. It was really making me uncomfortable, and what I really wanted to do was give Marcy my brother’s name and number. He was the actor, after all. My station manager was insistent, however, that I do the commercial.

  The second thing I was doing was browsing through my e-mails to see who was rejecting my screenplay today. As always, it was frustrating and depressing, but the good news was I was almost finished with my new script (the truth-based one) and it was turning out outrageously funny. I actually couldn’t wait until it was done so I could start sending it out. I truly believed I could sell it.

  The third thing I was doing was thinking about my cutie in the equipment room.

  “Can I call you back, Marcy?”

  “Sure,” she said, “But I really need to know when you’re available for the shoot.”

  “I’ll let you know by tomorrow, okay? The thing is, I just got called into an emergency meeting.” I crossed my fingers, as if that would make the lie acceptable.

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks,” I said, “And just so you know, I’m really excited to be a part of your ad campaign.”

  “We appreciate that.”

  When I hung up, I grabbed my purse and headed toward the elevator, pretending to be on my way to the Starbucks, which was in the lobby of the building. I had to pass the equipment room on the way. The door was halfway open, and for some reason I sensed Drew was still in there and that he was by himself. I walked in. Sure enough, there he was, on his knees, cleaning the lens of a camera with a piece of cloth.

  “Hi!” I exclaimed.

  He looked up and smiled. “Look at you…” he flirted.

  “What about me?”

  “You’re hot,” he said, “And you’re wearing perfume. What’s the occasion?”

  I grinned and said, “You.”

  He stood up and slowly walked toward me. Watching him, I couldn’t move. Or talk. Or breathe, for that matter. I was frozen with fear, excitement and desire. Drew reached behind me, closed the door and locked it, and that’s when my heart started to pound furiously. He kissed me hard on the mouth, and I felt as if I might actually melt in his arms. I was truly lost in his embrace, and all I wanted to do was touch him. I lifted off his shirt. He already had his hands under my dress and was taking off my panty hose.

  What we were about to do was so hot and so sexy, and would be a memory that would surely never leave me. I’d never been more attracted to someone in all my life. This was purely erotic and heart pounding. At the same time, though, it was so much more than just random sex in a semi-public place. This was Drew, and this meant something. He meant something. And he loved me. It had been a long week without him and I’d missed him terribly. So I guessed I was making up for lost time. In fact, I felt like, perhaps, I was making up for a whole lifetime of lost time, an entire life of never having this kind of closeness and comfort with anyone.

  “Who the hell locked this damn door?” I heard next, along with pounding on the door.

  Drew and I both burst out laughing, and in less than ten seconds, I was fully dressed again and trying to act normal while opening the door. “Oh, sorry, Larry,” I said, “I have no idea why this is locked.”

  “Larry, buddy,” Drew called out, “Come in, dude, I’m just cleaning this lens for that promo we’re shooting this afternoon.” I had to hide my giggle when I looked at Drew and noticed sweat dripping down his forehead. He had practically jumped back into the position he was in prior to our little escapade.

  Larry looked at the two of us for a second, trying to figure out what was going on. Then he shot us each a dirty look and grabbed a tri-pod. He motioned to the door on his way out. “This stays open!” he shouted. Then he stormed off.

  With a giggle I asked, “I’m going to Starbucks. Interested in a latte?”

  “I’m interested in a latte more than what just happened,” Drew joked.

  “Bye,” I said with a smile.

  “It was fun,” he said with a wink.

  And as I waited in line at Starbucks with a stupid, silly grin on my face, I kept thinking about Drew, sitting there happily cleaning the camera lens with his shirt on inside out. I thought about what we’d just done, and how desperately I needed more.

  Not long after returning to my desk I got another rejection e-mail. I couldn’t have cared less, though, because the next e-mail was the best e-mail. It read, “To be continued… tonight at your place?”

  I giggled and hit reply. “Come over at 8:00.”

  A few hours later it was time for the lottery. I walked into the studio, my mood the same as it had been all day: cheery, happy and giddy. I gave Drew a little smile and a wave, and he smiled at me, practically sending me into cardiac arrest. There he sat behind the camera, shooting me. It was so hard to focus and I felt like everyone in the room could see my heart bursting out of me.

  When we went on air I tried to act professional, but as I pulled the balls out of their bins and announced the numbers, I knew I was being a bit flighty. But I was also peppy and enthusiastic, and for the first time, I wasn’t acting. My demeanor was genuine.

  I pulled out the last ball and saw it was a seven. “Seven,” I exclaimed, “Lucky number seven!” I was so pumped up, I felt like I could fly. It was as if I’d been in a deep sleep for so long and I’d just woken up. And my alarm clock was the guy behind the camera, shooting me.

  I was smiling so wide my cheeks were hurting. “There you have it,” I continued, “Four nine nine seven for the pick four, and six three eight for the pick three.” Ordinarily, I would have gone with one of my usual phony sign-offs like, “Thanks so much for watching WGB, the official station for the Illinois Lottery. Have a wonderful afternoon and remember, somebody’s got to win. Why shouldn’t it be you?” or “Thanks so much for watching WGB, the official station for the Illinois Lottery. Have a great day and keep taking chances.” Today, though, nothing was fake or phony. I wasn’t going through the motions anymore. Not with my job, and definitely not when it came to Drew.

  “I don’t know about you, but I feel lucky lucky lucky today!” I exclaimed into the camera. Truly, I was speaking to the guy behind the camera, but no one knew that except for me (and the camera man, of course.) “I hope everyone gets lucky today,” I continued, knowing full well that my producer, Richard was probably cringing right about now, “and tonight!”

  Drew’s face was behind the camera but I could tell he was laughing. I signed off with a giggle, “For WGB, I’m Jamie Jacobson.”

  “We’re clear,” yelled Richard to the crew.

  Drew’s face appeared from behind the camera, his wide grin melting me.

  “What the hell, Jamie?” I heard Richard yell.

  “What?” I asked him.

  “Are you on drugs?”

  “I think she’s drunk,” replied someone from the crew.

  “Shut up,” Richard yelled back, not even knowing who said it.

  “I’m just happy,” I said, looking right at Drew, “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “We don’t need any drug addicts at the station,” grumbled Richard.

  “Me too,” Drew mouthed to me.

  God, he was dreamy.
<
br />   Chapter 28

  There was no conversation, no small talk. In fact, there wasn’t even a hello. When I answered my door at about 8:05, wearing my new silk nightgown, there stood Drew with his beautiful green eyes and his kind smile. Without so much as one word exchanged, he took me in his arms and began to kiss me.

  We kissed and kissed and made our way into my bedroom, where we did a lot more than kiss. The nightgown was off in literally three minutes, and as far as Drew’s clothes, within six seconds, they were on the floor, spread out like a path of bread crumbs leading to my bed.

  We made love for a long time, and he whispered how much he’d missed me, and how beautiful I was, and how lucky he felt that we were together. And though I felt all those things, no words came out of my mouth. The feel of his body was taking my breath away, but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t say anything. At this moment, I felt as if I was in a dream, and I never wanted it to end. I wanted to feel him and touch him and hear him breathe and look in his eyes, and there wasn’t one word I could say that wouldn’t take away from the overwhelming sense of passion I was feeling at this very moment.

  “Are you okay?” Drew asked me.

  “Yeah, why?” I whispered.

  “Because you’re crying,” he said, wiping tears from my eyes.

  “No, I’m not.”

  He gave me a gentle smile. “Yes, you are. Tell me why.”

  I looked into his eyes so directly that I almost felt like I was trying to look into his soul. And then I whispered, “I love you,” and I realized that for the first time in my life, I actually meant it.

  Drew gave me a smile like the one you get from your best friend and said, “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “You heard me,” I giggled through tears.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I love you,” I said a bit louder.

  “Huh?” he joked, “Speak up!”

  “I love you,” I shouted with a laugh.

  In an instant, he grabbed me and gave me a huge bear hug. “I love you, too,” he said, “But you already knew that.”

  A little while later, we decided to make our way into the kitchen and eat.

  “So I want to hear about your trip,” I said, standing over the stove, cooking scrambled eggs and cheese, and now wearing Drew’s t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

  “My trip was great. We did a lot. We played tennis and golf, and we swam and went out for nice dinners…it was nice.”

  “And what about your dad? Did you guys talk?”

  “Yeah. He apologized for what happened and so did Monica. I have to admit, it’s really weird, but we all need to get over it if we want to start acting like a family again.”

  “I think it’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I just want my dad to be happy. He’s almost seventy, and he likes her. He loves her, I guess. And she seems like she’s nice to him. She’ll never take my mother’s place, but as long as my dad’s happy, that’s the most important thing.”

  I stirred the eggs and then left them for a moment to fetch some orange juice from the fridge. “You know what I love about you?”

  “Wow…” he joked, “Now you’re throwing out the L word like nothing! It’s so good to see!”

  “Shut up,” I giggled.

  “Sorry. What do you love about me?”

  “You always see the good in people. In everything, come to think of it. How do you do it?”

  “Well,” he said, taking the juice carton from me and pouring some juice into two glasses, “Take you, for example.”

  I grinned.

  “You were a total bitch to me for what? Two, three years?”

  “That’s not true!”

  Now he took my hands. “I know people, and I know what’s inside of you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I know you, Jamie. I see you. I saw how you suffered, and how you gave up on men. And I understand that. You were trying to be tough. You tried to play the game. But I saw through it.”

  “Wait a minute…”

  He continued, “Jamie, I’m glad I saw through it. I feel lucky that I saw through it.”

  Tears welled in my eyes and Drew gently kissed my lips.

  “I want you,” he said softly, “Not just in bed. I want you. All of you.”

  “I hope so,” I said softly.

  “I’m here. Not just for a few days or a few months. I’m here for you long term. Do you understand that?”

  I sat there nodding my head slowly, believing perhaps for the first time that true love really did exist. And then I put my arms around him and I hugged him for a long time, wondering how the hell I was going to tell him the truth about how our whole relationship began. I knew now that I had to be honest with him. If I loved him, he deserved to know. That being said, the thought of losing him over it was almost unbearable.

  “I love you,” I whispered again, “I love you.”

  We stood in my kitchen embraced in a hug, and it felt so good, like I belonged in his safe, strong arms. We stayed like that for a long, long time. Actually, until the smoke alarm went off. The eggs were burned.

  Chapter 29

  When I first noticed Angela Walker’s pregnant tummy, I was in the middle of having a discussion with my students about the German occupation in France in 1941. I was trying to convince a couple of them that the movie, Inglorious Bastards was in fact, a work of fiction, when the reality of seeing Angela’s bulging stomach set in, depressing me beyond belief, not because I didn’t want her to have the kid, but because this extremely intelligent, gifted and promising student was giving up her education.

  So, when the bell rang and all my students dashed out of their seats and toward the door, I decided I wasn’t giving up on her. “Angela…” I called to her as she passed my desk.

  She stopped and turned to me, “Yes?”

  “Can I talk to you?”

  “Okay…” she said, seeming apprehensive, I think because she knew how I felt about her decision and didn’t want any more confrontation regarding the subject.

  “Can you stick around for a minute?”

  “Um…I’m meeting my girlfriends out front.”

  “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Sure.”

  I waited until all the students were out of the room before I began. “Angela, I just want to appeal to you one more time. Think about what you’re doing. You’re seventeen years old. You have your whole life ahead of you…”

  “Mr. J., I appreciate what you’re saying,” she said with a sad smile, “but my mind’s made up. My parents think this is the best thing for me, and Terrence is even okay with it now.” With fake enthusiasm, she added, “I think we’re going to get married.”

  Now, I seriously felt like puking. This beautiful, smart woman was going to throw her life away! I had to do something. “Listen, this is YOUR life, not mine. And maybe I have no right to get involved like this, but I can’t help it.”

  Now Angela’s eyes filled with tears. “I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t understand. I can’t go against my parents. I don’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, you do!”

  Now Angela started to cry and I was actually happy about that because I realized right then that she did want to stay in school, and that she was afraid of her parents and what was expected of her. And her parents seemed like an easier obstacle than trying to change HER mind about getting her high-school degree and going to college.

  “Angela, what are you doing right now? Can I take you somewhere?” I asked her.

  “Um…where?”

  “I want to show you something,” I said with a grin, “I’ll have you home in an hour, I promise.”

  Twenty minutes later, my student and I pulled up to You Sexy Thing, You in a taxi. I paid the driver, we got out of the cab, and then I led her to the entrance where she said to me, “Mr. J., why are you bringing me to a lingerie store?”

  “Because I
want you to see what you can do with a college degree.”

  The minute we walked in the door, the hot owner approached us. I’d texted her on the way to tell her we were coming.

  “You must be Angela,” said Courtney, extending her hand out to shake my student’s, “I’m Courtney.”

  “Courtney owns this store,” I said, “I wanted you guys to talk. Courtney graduated from Northwestern and worked as a buyer for Bloomingdale’s before starting her own business.”

  “Wow…that’s so cool,” exclaimed Angela.

  “Angela wants to own her own marketing and public relations firm someday,” I told my girlfriend.

  “That’s exciting,” Courtney exclaimed, “What made you decide you want to do that?”

  While Angela told Courtney about how she had always been interested in commercials and billboards, I decided to browse the shop and leave the two women alone to chat. I was hoping Courtney would have some kind of impact on Angela and cause her to reevaluate her situation.

  As I examined bras, underwear, teddies and nightgowns, which don’t get me wrong, I was truly enjoying, I was mostly watching what I hoped would inspire Angela and make her realize the value of an education. Semi listening to my smart girlfriend telling the young girl about how much her education had done for her, both financially and personally, I could see she really wanted to help Angela. I could also see that Angela was impressed by Courtney, and that was exciting. I was crossing my fingers she would see the light.

  After a few minutes and with customers waiting, I knew Courtney had run out of time. I walked Angela outside.

  “Look, Angela, I’ve been teaching at your school for a long time. You’re not the first girl I’ve seen get pregnant and drop out, and you won’t be the last. I don’t know how the lives of the women who dropped out have turned out, but I do know about some of the men and women who have graduated. Some of them have contacted me and asked if they could put me down as a reference for jobs they’re trying to get.” I took her shoulders, looked right into her eyes and said with passion, “Jobs with IBM, and Motorola, and Discover, and Schering Plough, and Nordstrom, and even DDB Needham. It’s all possible. Especially for you, Angela. You can do anything you want. Even with your baby. I’ll help you. But you have to want to help yourself.”