What Love Looks Like by Lara Mondoux Read Free Book Online

make it up to you.
             He choked? Jay Conrad, the golden boy, the man
that I’d likened to a fictitious irresistible vampire/billionaire sadist had choked ? I found it impossible to believe
that he ever choked, especially with women; and certainly not with me. Not that
I was unattractive, but I wasn’t a perpetually tanned, girl-next-door blonde
bombshell either, and that seemed like exactly the type of girl that Jay Conrad
would’ve gone for.
    I, on the other
hand was pale, and apart from a daily application of bronzer, made little
attempt not to be. My Mediterranean-looking parents had passed along potent
genes from Northern Italy. As a result, my skin was a light milky-olive tone,
and my hair was thick and espresso colored, and it hung in no particular
fashion down to the middle of my back. And while I was thin, I didn’t have the
giant boobs or bubble butt that I imagined Jay Conrad probably lusted after. If
anything, my butt was kind of wide and flat.
    No worries, I wrote. Shit happens.
             “Maureen!” I yelled.
             She
charged into my office. “What’s going on? You startled me.”
             “Jay
Conrad texted me!” I held up my phone to show her.
             “Get
the hell out of here!” She was just as excited as I was. “What did he say?”
             “That
he was sorry he didn’t text me sooner, and that we should find a reason for me
to visit New York. Does that sound like an invitation to you? Because I think
it does.”
             “Oh,
definitely.”
             Jay
and I texted back and forth, on average every ten minutes or so, for the
remainder of that workday and into the evening. The texts took on the form of a
full conversation, revealing details about both of our lives, the kinds of
things that people normally learn about one another on first dates. He was born
in Pennsylvania, ran track and played golf in high school, moved to New York
after college and did some modeling (including an Abercrombie & Fitch
catalog), but then got into software sales. He had three brothers and traveled
a lot for work and pleasure. I found him quite down to earth, in spite of his
exceptional hotness.
    Come to New York , he said later in the evening when I was getting ready for bed.
             I
barely know you, I replied with
one hand, brushing my teeth with the other.
             Well,
that’s why you’d come, to get to know me.  
             We’ll
see.
             Just
as friends, he said . Nothing crazy. We’d have fun, I promise.
             I’ll think about it. And think about it
I did. I thought about it in bed, as I drifted to sleep, and then again when I
woke the next morning. Shortly after I got up I received yet another text from
Jay, wishing me a pleasant day. I brewed coffee in a state of bliss more
typical of holiday mornings spent with my family, my third glass of wine, or
the sight of Luna romping with another dog in Goodale Park.
    I heard from Jay
every day that week. Strangely, as his messages steadily came through, I didn’t
eat or drink excessively the way I normally did. I didn’t even feel the need to
shop for that fleeting sense of satisfaction that I’d come to rely on. My inner
(and once insatiable) appetite was satisfied by the regular messaging with Jay.
He was a substitute for my addictions, and I hoped he might even be a permanent
replacement. In one text he told me that he had never ever done anything like this before , which presumably meant
he’d never carried on a pseudo-relationship via text messages with a
near-stranger he’d met for all of thirty minutes. I definitely hadn’t either,
which made our digital liaison all the more energizing.

 
    When I didn’t
order a mimosa at brunch that Sunday, Jenna declared it bullshit and demanded
to know why.
    “I’m trying to lose
a few pounds.”
             “What
for? You’re so thin