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Some women, I suppose, might find Cal Langdon’s voice sexy. And IT is kind of deep and gravelly, in a Robert Redford kind of way.
But the stuff he SAYS with it! EW!
And OK, he’s hot. I mean, I’m not going to lie and say he’s not. All I have to do to KNOW that isn’t true is flip back to the begi
And it’s true that even now, knowing what I do about him, he still has his moments. Like when he pried my foot out of that crevasse between the cobblestones, and his whole hand fit around my ankle.
And sometimes when he looks at me with those too-blue eyes, it seems like there’s a light shining from out of his head, like a jack-o’-lantern—a light only I can see, and which makes it very hard to maintain eye contact.
But still. In the car on the way back from Castelfidardo, I made a comment about how ludicrous it is that everything in this country closes from noon until four, sometimes five, every single day, and that really, it isn’t any wonder that America is a superpower and Italy isn’t, given that we only take half-hour lunches, for the most part.
And Mr. I Know Everything There Is To Know in the Entire Universe has the nerve to go, “Believe me, if the average temperature in America during the summer months was forty degrees Celsius, we’d be shutting down everything between noon and four as well.”
Whoa! I am sorry, but that is nothing but showing off. CELSIUS? What American knows how to tell the temperature in Celsius?
OK, enough ranting against Cal Langdon. Not while I’ve got all this delicious sun to bask in. It’s actually kind of hard to get worked up about anything, you know, with this sun beating down and the palm fronds overhead swaying gently in the breeze from the sea—carrying with it, as always, that slight hint of horse manure—and the only sounds those of bees buzzing and the crystal blue water in the pool gently rippling and Cal pecking at his Blackberry.
The sun is so hot, in fact, it seems to seep into your skin like thick heavy lotion. Really, it’s hard to tell whether it’s the bianco frizzante (SOOOOO good mixed with a little Orangina) or the sun, but I really feel, I don’t know, like nothing matters right now… not even what happens to Dr. Kovac on ER. I feel like I could just lie here forever….
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e-mails
To: Cal Langdon
Fr: Arthur Pendergast
Re: The Book
Would you cool it? I’m not trying to bust your chops. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now. Hell, if I’d moved back to the States after a ten-year absence, and had to find a place to live, furniture to put in it, buy a car, etc., I’d be going stark raving mad.
Well, not really, since I’d just leave all that to my wife. But you don’t have a wife. So don’t worry about it.
Just, you know. If you could give me a rough idea of what you’re thinking about doing for your second book. That would be nice.
Arthur Pendergast
Senior Editor
Rawlings Press
1418 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10019
212-555-8764
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To: Jane Harris >
Fr: Holly Caputo
Re: Did you see that?
????????????????
Holly
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To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Jane Harris >
Re: Did you see that?
Hello. Aren’t you getting married the day after tomorrow? What are you doing ogling other men’s naked chests?
J
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To: Jane Harris >
Fr: Holly Caputo
Re: Did you see that?
I’m getting married, but I’m not DEAD. My God, who knew that under that mild-ma
Holly
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To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Jane Harris >
Re: Did you see that?
They were slightly hard to miss. Don’t you think he was showing them off just SLIGHTLY by ripping off his shirt and diving in like that? I mean, DIVING?
J
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To: Jane Harris >
Fr: Holly Caputo
Re: Did you see that?
Well, he’s been working, while the rest of us were just out here lounging around. I think he just got frustrated and gave up, turned off the Blackberry, and went for it. I didn’t catch anything “stagey” about it.
Wow, look at him go. That’s a lot of laps. He must really be a
Holly
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To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Jane Harris >
Re: Did you see that?
He’s ruining my afternoon of total relaxation. How can I relax when someone is exercising that hard in front of me? He’s making me feel guilty about all that pasta I had at lunch.
J
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To: Jane Harris >
Fr: Holly Caputo
Re: Did you see that?
He’ll stop soon. Oh, see. There you go. Oh, look, how sweet. He’s coming to sit by YOU, Janie! Itold you he likes you. Maybe even as much as PETER does.
Holly
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To: Holly Caputo
Fr: Jane Harris >
Re: Did you see that?
I hate you.
J
Travel Diary of Jane Harris
Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine
Jane Harris
Why are men—and boys—so weird?
I mean, they certainly LOOK nice enough, for the most part. Cal Langdon, in particular, though it GALLS me to admit it. I mean, look at him, sitting there in that lounge chair, with the sunlight winking off the drops of water still clinging to his golden body hair.
Oh my God, I can’t believe I wrote the words golden body hair .
Still, not like he’s got so much of it. Just enough, really.
Just enough to make me wonder how much more he’s got, you know, below the waistband of his shorts.
I can’t believe I wrote that EITHER!!!
Still. It doesn’t matter how good they look—and just how, I’d like to know, does a guy whose job entails sitting behind a desk, typing stuff, get such defined biceps?—men are still weird.
Seriously. Just look at what they’re doing now. The Modelizer, Mark, and Peter are having this totally in depth—and boring—conversation about the Hubble space telescope and dark energy—whatever that is—and they are WAY into it. I mean, as much into it as Holly and I get when we’re talking about ER .