said Layla. "Did you think I would fix you up with a guy who rings bell towers? Anyway, I told him you were available and that you two might hit it off."
"So," said Savannah, "I made a call and got you two a reservation for Saturday night at The Firefly."
My eyebrows shot up. "The Firefly? That place is booked six months ahead."
"Not if you know the owner," said Savannah. "And, we got you show tickets." She slid an envelope toward me.
I opened it up and saw two orchestra seats to the hottest Broadway musical. "How did you get…"
Savannah playfully batted her eyelashes and shrugged.
"Never mind," I said. "I don't wanna know."
"So you're good for Saturday," said Layla. "Rob will pick you up at six."
"Guys, I really appreciate this, but I've been spending Saturdays in bed."
"Yes, and y'all need some company in there," said Savannah.
I exhaled and shook my head. "I'm guessing I have no say in the matter."
"No," they said in unison.
***
A few minutes before my date, I knew I was in big, big trouble.
Because I was ready to go to bed. And no, not with Rob the media buyer or anyone else for that matter. Bradley Cooper could have walked in naked and I would have handed him the remote and told him to not to wake me. Though the thought did cross my mind that a wild night of sex might serve as an adequate sleep aid.
The week had been a roller coaster of sleep cycles. A few hours here and there, but not a single night with eight hours straight.
And right now I wanted about twelve hours of uninterrupted snoring.
Trust me, if my friends had not gone through all this trouble to get me "back in the saddle" as Savannah had put it, I would have called the guy and asked for a rain check. That not being an option, I slugged down one of those energy drinks (to which I had become almost immune), drank two cups of coffee and downed a chocolate bar. If that wasn't enough caffeine to get me through the evening, so be it, and my date could carry me home.
Still, despite my lack of energy I had managed to get gussied up enough to make a nice impression. (I should also mention that since I scored this gig, I am sought after by the paparazzi constantly, so I have to get dressed up and put on makeup just to shop for groceries. No more shoving my hair into a baseball hat and going out in sweats, which pisses me off.)
The doorman rang the buzzer, which told me my gentleman caller was here.
I looked at the clock and shook my head, knowing I had to stay awake for at least four more hours.
Great way to approach a first date, huh?
***
Rob the media buyer came as advertised, appropriately enough. His photo didn't do him justice, as he was even cuter in person. About five-ten, slender, with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes, he wore a sincere smile that brought long dimples into play.
Had I been wide awake, I probably would have been as excited as a schoolgirl and ready to jump his bones.
Alas, I was already fighting the sandman as we placed our order in the city's trendiest restaurant, which looked like a throwback to the gaslight era. Antiques everywhere, the only light provided by candles. A bubbling fountain in the center. Rose petals on the tablecloth. If I were in the mood I would have considered it incredibly romantic. Though we had a corner table in the back, I was getting constant stares. I politely smiled at everyone as I wondered if it would break some etiquette rule to dine while wearing sunglasses. I would make it a point to face the back of the restaurant any time I eat out in the future.
Rob was indeed a good match as we did have a lot in common. Thankfully he was carrying the conversation, as I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness. A quick look at the huge old grandfather clock told me I had three and a half hours to go. I was considering falling asleep during the play with the excuse that I was bored.
"The ad rates for your show have gone up since you started," he said. "Madison Avenue likes you."
"Good to know," I said.
The conversation segued nicely to sports, with his favorite teams, the Giants and the Mets, also being mine. His words began to fade and got a hollow sound as the tuxedoed waiter arrived with the soup course. He slid the china bowl in front of me and I tried to focus, but suddenly the world began to spin. I saw little black spots and knew from past experience I was about to pass out.
I grabbed the arms of my chair but I couldn't stop myself and the world went dark.
When I awakened, my vision cleared and I saw Rob and a waiter standing over me, both fanning me with napkins. My face felt very warm.
I had fainted, and gone head first into a bowl of lobster bisque.
"Do you need a doctor, Madame?" asked the waiter with a French accent.
"I'm fine," I said, right before I passed out again.
***
My eyes flickered as bright sunlight spilled onto my face.
Obviously, it was no longer Saturday night. I stretched my eyes open and looked up at industrial white ceiling tiles and a large fluorescent light that definitely wasn't the one in my apartment.
"Morning, sunshine."
I leaned up and saw Layla and Savannah seated at the foot of the bed, which was also clearly not my bed.
I was in a hospital room. "What the hell happened?" I asked.
"You passed out on your date," said Layla, who got up and moved toward the bed. "Twice. He called nine-one-one and they brought you to the emergency room, then checked you in for the night."
Savannah stood up. "I'll go get the doctor and let him know you're awake."
"What time is it?" I asked, as I stretched my arms out and yawned.
"Eleven on Sunday morning," said Layla. She sat on the edge of the bed. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna wake up. You've been out about seventeen hours."
"How did you know I was here?"
Layla reached for the end table, grabbed a bunch of newspapers and handed them to me. "Well, everyone kinda knows you're here."
I sat up and looked at the front page of New York's most popular tabloid. There I was, passed out on a stretcher, hunks of lobster in my cream-covered hair and mouth hanging open like a trophy bass, under the blaring headline.
MORNING ANCHOR GOES BOBBING FOR LOBSTER
"Dear God!" I said.
"Yeah, not exactly a Kodak moment."
I unfolded the paper and turned to the article.
Veronica
