“You almost slept with him.” That’s what she told her cell phone as she texted Parvati. “You almost took him up to your shitty apartment and let him do whatever he wanted to you…”
Good thing she hadn’t done that! Wait…
Oh, what the fuck was she supposed to do? Rachel hadn’t thought things through this far. When she suggested they do this, it had been on a lark. A stupid joke she didn’t think was going to mean anything. But the fact remained that she was attracted to Zack. A lot. Like rubbing myself to sleep thinking about the way he touches and kisses me…
How were they going to be nothing but friends? Could they actually be friends? Or were they doomed simply because of their class differences?
Rachel splashed some cold water on her face before going back out into the living room. Zack was off the couch, the TV still stuck on the welcoming app screen that invited them to check into Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, HBO, Showtime… he probably had a subscription to all of them.
Zack was in the kitchen sniffing through his fridge while on the phone. “Sounds good,” he said. “Make it a full order and put it on my tab.” He lowered his phone. “You like Chinese?”
“Uh, sure. We’re having Chinese?”
He scoffed. “Of course we’re having Chinese. It’s not a friendly pajama party sleepover without Chinese. So, what’s your favorite? And do you want brown or white rice?”
“Beef and broccoli.” Rachel leaned against the marble countertop. “And white rice. Can’t have Chinese without white rice, right?”
He grinned and pointed in her direction. “I like the way you think. Make that two full orders of white rice, thanks.”
Rachel didn’t know which restaurant he ordered from. Could’ve been Mushu’s down the block or Golden Dynasty on the other side of town. Mushu’s was closer and okay, if someone didn’t mind their Chinese food distilled through non-Asian chefs for plainer American palates. Golden Dynasty was considered king of Chinese food in that city, however. The Wangs had run the place for over a hundred years, with each generation achieving a new nirvana nobody else could compete with. But that also made them more expensive and less likely to deliver in a timely manner. Zack was lazy enough to order Mushu’s but also rich enough to spring for Golden Dynasty’s.
“Who did you order from?” she asked, while he pulled plates from a cabinet and forks from a drawer. “Mushu’s?”
He cringed. “If I wanted bland food that can barely be called Chinese,” he muttered, “I would make my own. No, I ordered from Forbidden City.”
“Forbidden City?”
“Yeah. You must know them.” Forks clattered against the plates. “From New York.”
“You ordered… from New York…”
“Yup. Should be here in a few hours. In the meantime, I’ve got some cold pizza in the fridge. You like pineapple on your pie?”
Rachel was still too dumbstruck to properly reply. “I… no. I don’t. Like pineapple in general, that is.”
“Oh! Well. I’ll pick it off yours. More for me!”
The rest of the afternoon continued as strangely, and part of the reason it was so strange was because Zack constantly showed how out of touch from real life he was, even though he came across as such a blasted normal guy. The “cold” pizza was fired up not in a microwave, but an oven that had a specific “wood” setting, somehow replicating the exact taste and texture of a traditional wood fire pizza – without flames, even. And the pizza itself? Leftovers, but from the expensive gourmet place that was considered a birthday splurge to someone like Rachel, and not a typical Wednesday night for Zack.
The movie he suggested they watch was still in the theaters, but movie companies sent him complimentary screeners because he went to Cannes when he dated an indie actress. The couch was deceptively state of the art, complete with individual massage components, heated cup holders (for all that hot tea Zack supposedly drank in front of his TV) and docks for handheld electronics and recharge stations for PlayStation controllers – oh, and he could play any game at any moment. Had Rachel tried out the Nintendo Switch yet? Zack had received an advanced copy of Breath of the Wild, but hadn’t had the chance to play it yet. He got it a year ago! When he asked her if it had even come out yet, she was almost afraid to tell him that it had.
A coffee table that was part ice chest for beer and soda, part neatly organized library of art history books and Zack’s archived sketchbooks. Windows that were controlled with the same remote that turned down the overhead lights and futzed with the AC. A voice that sounded a lot like Siri responding to Zack’s requests to turn on this and adjust that – assuming the remote didn’t control that, too.
Rachel felt like she was in a futuristic movie. Not even Star Trek had shit like this!
“I know that guy,” Zack said halfway through the movie. “Went to art school with him. Huh. How about that? Got to be a fancy actor and everything.”
Rachel couldn’t take being gobsmacked anymore. “That’s Sal Louis!” The guy on every magazine cover at the moment? Is he shitting me? “He won a bunch of newcomer awards!”
“Did he? No idea. I don’t keep up with entertainment and celebrity stuff.”
“Neither do I.” Rachel stood in grocery store lines and read Facebook headlines. How could Zack be so involved in these intersecting worlds yet know nothing about them? How could he be in the same class as Sal Louis and not know that he was Hollywood A-list? “But… guess that’s the difference between us.”
This had been so stupid. Rachel didn’t even care that the Chinese food arrived perfectly cooked and tasting so good, textured so perfectly that it was like every dead emperor rose from his grave to sample it for themselves. I should go. Rachel wasn’t meant to be a part of Zack’s world. She couldn’t even handle his technologically advanced apartment in the middle of the city. He was probably neighbors with the mayor. Assuming the mayor lived in a high-rise…
“We’re two friends hanging out and… are you actually using the chopsticks?”
Rice slipped back onto Rachel’s plate. “Yeah? Why? Don’t you know how to use chopsticks?”
“Uhhh.” Zack looked at the fork in his hand. “Forks are easier?”
His childish smirk that suggested he knew how sad he was made Rachel laugh for the first time in hours. “I learned how to use them the first time I lived in Japan. So, high school.” She picked up a single pea with her pair of disposable chopsticks. Zack whistled in admiration. “When you live there as often as I have, you figure out how to use chopsticks pretty quickly. Even though most of the restaurants are trying to shove forks into your hand.”
“See? You’re better than me at lots of things.”
“Didn’t realize we were having a contest…”
“Things are always a contest with friends.” Zack tossed his empty plate onto his coffee table. They were officially done watching the boring movie. “My best friend is also an artist. He and I are always trying to one-up each other. He gets a critically acclaimed collection, I get a world tour… he starts dating the most expensive courtesan in America, I start dating an Italian supermodel… I’m sure women do the same thing.”
“Not that I know of.”
“Ah. Oh, well. I’m sure you do. You’re probably more subtle about it.”
“Not sure about that.”
“Well…”
Rachel stood up. “It’s been fun, Zack, but I think I should be heading out now.”
“You’re leaving already?”
She couldn’t bear to look at him. He was still dressed in those easygoing shorts and T-shirt like they were about to go lounge on the deck of his yacht. Bet he’d like to do that. Probably would like it even more if Rachel were in a bikini while they did it. Not gonna lie, if he went shirtless… Nope. She wasn’t going there.
“Look.” Zack always stood up, hands out in a silent appeal to get her to stay. “I’m sorry this day has been so screwy. But you did promise me that we would have a proper sleepover like a couple of nine-year-olds. So what do you want to do, Rachel? What will make you stay?”
She sucked in her breath as if his words cut her. Not in pain, but in pleasure. Can you even be cut in pleasure? I don’t wanna find out! “I dunno. I guess coming here reminded me how different we are. I can’t believe you almost saw my tiny little apartment the other day.”
“Rachel, come on. I know I’ve got fancy stuff, but it’s not a part of me.”
“What is, then?”
His eyes widened. His finger tapped against his chin. He looked away, deep in thought. “Let’s go to my art studio. You can see what’s really a part of me there.”
“Right now?”
“It’s not far. Easy enough walk, and it’s highly secure. You can leave your bag here.” Zack grinned again. “That way you’ll have to come back for that sleepover. I had planned on breaking out the sleeping bags in here and everything.”
He marched straight for the entryway and grabbed his keys. Rachel went after him.