Looking Inside
“Trey said there was a fifty-fifty chance she’d come on to you after she was rejected by him. Did she?”
“No. But we did stay and have a couple drinks together. She’s not bad.”
“I have a feeling there’s more to that story,” Eleanor said, studying the way Jimmy suddenly seemed completely focused on arranging his cheeseburger garnishes.
“I can take care of myself.”
“That’s what I told Trey. But still . . . watch out, Jimmy. I’m serious. Trey says Alessandra is a handful.”
“Just because she’s not right for Riordan doesn’t mean she’s not interesting.”
“Not to mention disgustingly gorgeous,” Eleanor said sarcastically under her breath. Jimmy gave her a wry glance.
“Enough about Alessandra. You’re the one with the big story. Give me dirt. What’s been happening with Riordan? Start from the beginning,” Jimmy insisted.
She owed him some kind of story. As her closest friend, Jimmy had been in on her obsession with Trey ever since she’d discovered his name from her doorman. He’d been the one to tell her about Trey signing up for the reading event.
She outlined some of the basics of what’d been happening with Trey and her, leaving out most of the details about her uncharacteristically bold exhibitionistic displays. Jimmy probably wouldn’t believe her if she told him the full story, anyway.
“So after you guys left, you guys just went up to your place and had fantastic sex?” Jimmy asked for the third time after the plates had been cleared and they sipped their coffee.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to say it? Why does everyone have to act so surprised when I do something sexy?” she complained. “Am I really that boring?”
“No, it’s just . . . Trey Riordan. He’s quite a catch,” Jimmy said, raising his eyebrows in a lecherous gesture.
“And to think,” she said drolly, “that I told Trey you were straight.” Jimmy laughed. “But seriously, you think it’s weird too, don’t you?”
“What?”
“That Trey thinks I’m attractive. Sexy,” she added hesitantly.
“Why would I think that?” Jimmy asked, frowning.
“You don’t think of me that way. Almost no one does. I just don’t . . . wear sexy well, do I?”
Jimmy set down his coffee cup with a clanging sound. “Are you serious? You’re beautiful, Eleanor. You’ve never been very obvious about it, but that’s just part of your charm. What is this? Are you fishing for compliments?”
He looked so bemused, so incredulous—possibly even more so than when he’d asked her repeatedly about her and Trey having sex last night. Eleanor thought maybe she should just change the subject. Jimmy couldn’t understand.
Especially when she wasn’t certain she understood it herself.
Sure, she knew she cleaned up well, and could be attractive when she made the effort. It just wasn’t in her nature to choose to put a lot of energy and time on her looks.
Although recently, she had to admit, she was starting to get why some women indulged in clothes and hair products and shoes. Maybe the beauty industry wasn’t exclusively, as she’d always thought in the past, a multibillion-dollar bandage to female low self-esteem. It was just like Caddy had said several times in the past. You should look good because it pleased you.
“Eleanor?” Jimmy asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Is all this about Caddy?”
“Huh?” she asked, stunned. How had he known she’d just been thinking about Caddy? Oh no. First Mom, now Jimmy. This topic made her practically writhe in her own skin with acute discomfort. Her heartbeat started to thrum uncomfortably loud in her ears.
Jimmy must have noticed her panicked expression. “It’s just . . . ever since Caddy died, you’ve started doing your hair different once in a while, wearing makeup, dressing more . . . you know.”
“Sexy?” she asked through a tight throat.
“Yeah. And it looks great on you, it really does,” Jimmy said.
“You don’t actually believe that. You don’t think it looks good on me, do you?” she asked hollowly, thinking about her mom saying, It’s not you, Eleanor. “You think I’m just pretending to be like Caddy?”
“No, it’s not that. I don’t think you’re pretending to be like Caddy.”