Page 32 of An American in London

Melanie has never been as into Daniel De Luca as me, but she insists on staying up late in New York while I loiter outside the Soho Hotel waiting for him to emerge.

It’s not even light yet, but I finally managed to escape Ben’s persuasive techniques for getting me to stay with him.

I better get to see Daniel De Luca this morning. I’ve given up a lot.

Melanie didn’t want me to do it on my own.

But honestly, if we hadn’t arranged this call, I probably wouldn’t be here.

Every part of me aches, and not because Ben and I were up most of the night, but because I’m not in his bed now.

Every time I blink, I feel his teeth on my neck, his fingers on my skin, his tongue . .. everywhere.

“Hold me straight!” Melanie squawks from the video call, pulling me back to the moment.

“Whoops, sorry. There’s nothing much to see.”

Security has set up a small barricade, but I’m the only one here. And it’s pouring rain.

“It’s no wonder you’re in love with him. I mean, he’s hot as all holy hell,” she says.

“I don’t think I’m actually in love with him. Back in the day, maybe, but I was a teenager. I just like his movies, and I’ve enjoyed visiting the locations; it all brings back memories of my mom.”

“I don’t mean you’re in love with Daniel De Luca,” Melanie replies. “I’m talking about Ben.”

The rain is coming down harder now. Ten minutes ago, it was just drizzling. Now the rain is falling in full-on sheets. The sound against my rickety tourist umbrella must have made me mishear. She can’t have just said I’m in love with Ben. “Say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

Melanie laughs. “I said, I’m not surprised you’re in love with Ben. He’s hot. And he’s obviously a romantic. The flowers? That date? He bought a goddamn restaurant for you, for crying out loud. He’s got it bad too.”

She doesn’t even know about the sex. This morning it feels like all the cells in my body have been rearranged and I’m biologically different now. But that’s not love.

I roll my eyes, but she can’t see because I have the phone screen pointing toward the hotel doors.

She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Maybe she needs an explanation of why I’m not more upset about Jed.

The more time that goes by, the more I think I was over Jed before he ended things between us.

Melanie can believe it’s because of Ben if she wants.

“I’ve known Ben a little over two weeks.

I’m not in love with him.” I can’t mention the sex or she’ll definitely tell me it’s love.

Because it wasn’t just sex. It was something more than that.

“Two weeks is long enough to fall in love,” she says.

We fall silent as the hotel door opens revealing two women dressed in puffer jackets, neither of whom are Daniel De Luca.

“Love happens at first sight, remember,” Melanie continues. “When you compare that with how long you’ve known Ben, two weeks to fall in love with him is actually a very long time. You’ve spent a lot of time together.”

“ Lust happens at first sight.” The lust fairy definitely waved her magic wand at me when I first saw Ben.

What isn’t to like? He’s tall, dark, and handsome.

But he looked like he wanted to murder me.

I hadn’t fallen in love with him that afternoon in Green Park.

There was no way. And I’m still not in love with him.

That’s completely impossible. Even if he did things to me last night that make me wonder if he should carry a special license for his skills.

“Attraction. Not love. That takes ...”

“How long? A month?” Melanie asks. “Do you have to pass a test? Maybe if you can stand each other for two years, then you can be deemed to be in love?”

I fall silent again and Melanie copies me.

I hold up the phone as someone else comes out of the hotel.

It’s five a.m. Why on earth are people coming out of their hotel so early?

If they’re on vacation, shouldn’t they be enjoying the comfort of their made by someone else bed?

If they’re on business, what kind of company needs you up so early?

This time it’s a man, but it’s not Daniel De Luca. It’s a balding guy in his sixties.

“Maybe he checked out,” I say.

“Or perhaps his call time is later today,” Melanie counters.

“I’m the only person waiting. That should tell me something. I might head back to my hotel and nap.”

“Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” Melanie asks.

I don’t answer. Melanie always spills the tea about sex with her boyfriends, but I want to keep last night to myself for a while. Like if I tell her, I might use up some of my memories and feelings by talking about it.

“I need coffee,” I say.

“You mean you want to go to the coffee shop where you ran into Ben again. You want to swap your Daniel De Luca quest for a Benjamin Whatever-His-Name-Is quest. If Ben trumps Daniel De Luca, it’s all the evidence I need that you’re in love with him.”

“More evidence? You haven’t provided any so far other than he’s good looking. If that were the only criteria, I would be in love with Mario Lopez.”

“ Ewww. ” She looks at me like I’ve just thrown a cup of cat pee all over her.

“I said what I said and I don’t regret it.”

“That’s not the only evidence I have,” she says. “I hear it in your voice. In the way you talk about him, but also how much ... lighter you seem.”

I do feel lighter. Happier. I feel free.

I don’t know if it’s being free of Jed or of the life I had back in New York. Maybe it’s freedom from the grief I thought would come with thinking about my mom so much. Maybe it’s just because I’ve connected to the girl I was before my mom died—her joy and enthusiasm, her hope for the future.

“You must admit that Ben has helped you get over Jed.”

I shrug. “No more so than Daniel De Luca has. He’s provided a distraction.

” I pause. “No, that’s not entirely true.

Spending time with another man has provided a contrast I didn’t know I needed.

Seeing the kind of man Ben is has made more obvious to me the fact that Jed and I weren’t meant to be together.

I’ve spent a lot of the last ten years not noticing stuff I should have focused on.

Glossing over incompatibilities I should have faced. ”

It’s not until I listen to Melanie talking about Jed that I realize just how much of our relationship was about what he wanted.

I didn’t want to live on the Upper East Side.

I certainly didn’t want the rent there. But I never told him.

I’d been happy to go along with it, because I wanted Jed to be happy, even at the cost of my own happiness.

Don’t say yes to anything you don’t want.

Ben’s words circle my brain like a breaking news ticker.

I think I said yes to a lot I didn’t want during my time with Jed.

“Everyone’s perfect when they’re as good looking as Ben and you haven’t known them long enough to know they always leave the toilet seat up or their orgasm face is a real turn-off.”

“You still haven’t had the conversation with David?”

She shakes her head. “I just focus on his shoulder for the last few minutes. We’ve been doing more doggy, which makes it easier.”

Apparently, I’m not the only one with a tendency to gloss over things in her relationship.

“I’m sure he’d switch it up if you just told him he looks like he’s sitting on the toilet when he climaxes.”

“You’re trying to distract me from my argument that you. Are. In. Love. With. Ben.”

“I promise I’m not. It’s just ... Do you think I say yes to things when I ... just because I want to keep the other person happy?”

For a second I think I’ve lost the connection because she doesn’t answer right away. After a few beats, she says, “I don’t know. Do you think that?”

I think about it. “I don’t want to move to Brooklyn.” I fist my hands, bracing myself for ... something.

“Brooklyn might be our only option,” she replies.

I really don’t want to live in Brooklyn.

The doorman, dressed in a long black coat and top hat with a gold band around it, gets a message on his radio, and I freeze. Melanie goes silent.

“Copy that” is the only thing I hear carrying over the rain. A second later, a blacked-out sedan pulls up in front of the hotel. I try to peer in the window, but there’s absolutely nothing to see.

“You think this could be it?” Melanie asks.

My heart rate switches from a relaxed stroll to a trot.

I crane my neck to try to see around the sculpted, twisty bushes that flank the entrance to the hotel.

I’m only about five yards from the entrance, but because I’m on the same side of the street as the door, it’s impossible to see what’s going on inside the hotel.

This might be it. It really might be happening.

A blond woman in sunglasses—despite complete darkness all around us—appears through the doors. She’s wearing a white coat and is about the same height as me.

“Is it someone famous?”

“Either that or someone who thinks they should be famous.”

The doorman opens the sedan’s door and she slips inside.

“Maybe she’s traveling with him,” I speculate.

“Who’s his costar in this film?”

“Sofia Flores. No way that’s her.”

The sedan pulls out and there’s more chatter on the radio. A Range Rover with blacked-out windows appears.

“You should have taken a picture of that woman. I bet she turns out to be famous,” Melanie says.

“I can’t start snapping strangers. I’ll get arrested.”

The doorman mumbles into his radio and then catches my eye. He gives a subtle nod.

Goose bumps sprinkle my skin, and I put my umbrella down. There’s no way I’m missing this. If I have to get soaked, so be it.

“What are you doing?” Melanie says as the phone is tucked under my arm while I figure out the umbrella.

“I don’t want to miss this because I’m under an umbrella.

I’ve waited my entire life for this moment.

” I’m not sure what I’m preparing myself for.

Is Daniel De Luca going to look at me and fall in love instantly?

Will he catch my eye and realize I’m the woman he’s been missing all these years?

No, but I’m not wrestling with an umbrella while I try to get a picture with him, even if I look like I’ve just been pulled out of the Thames.

A huge guy gets out of the passenger side of the Range Rover and pulls the door open, just as the hotel door opens. I stand on tiptoes. Whoever it is has a baseball cap on and their head bowed as they come out, their coat collar pulled up. I can barely see anything.

“I think it’s him,” Melanie says in a loud whisper.

“Daniel!” I yell. I want him to lift his head. I want him to look at me.

Daniel doesn’t face me, just raises his hand in a half wave before ducking into the car.

I’ve finally laid my own two eyes on Daniel De Luca.

I sigh. Gosh darn it. Was that it?

As the car passes us, I can’t even make out his silhouette in the back seat. The windows are like a concrete wall.

“It’s the same every morning,” the doorman says. “He never stops for the fans.”

“He’s a dick,” Melanie shouts from the phone. “We just wanted a photo.”

“I guess he’s not feeling his best at five a.m.,” I say.

“Or he’s just a dick,” Melanie says. “Maybe you can stalk him in the bar. Or at night when he comes back. What time does he come back?” she asks, and I point the phone at the doorman, but he just shrugs.

“If I was there,” she continues, “I would have dived into the car or clung on to the exhaust pipe. You need a picture with him. You deserve more than a hand raise.”

I don’t need to see him again, have a picture with him, or get more than a hand raise.

I’ve seen him in person. That’s more than I expected, even when I was fifteen years old.

Melanie thinks I should be disappointed, but honestly, I’m not.

Maybe seeing him, however briefly, means my teenage obsession is complete.

Maybe I’ve just got other men to think about.

One man in particular.