“You think I have a saucy mouth huh?” I decided that now was as good a time as any if I wanted to try my hand at some flirting. “What do you think of my mouth, Braden?” I asked, turning to him. By some small miracle I actually managed to sound calm and even a bit playful. The guardian angel of the socially awkward was obviously smiling down on me.
“I rather like it,” he answered with a flirtatious smile, as his eyes very obviously dropped to my lips, this time in a practiced way that probably had women dropping their panties for him left and right under other circumstances. I heard some suggestive laughter and there were a few comments from his friends that I didn't quite catch – probably for the best. Dusty Springfield was singing Son of a Preacher Man in the background and it helped to set the saucy mood.
“There you go, Mr. Roth,” I said, as I walked over to stand right in front of him, leaned down, and looked him directly in the eye, our faces inches apart. “Some men can obviously handle my mouth.” Jess let out a startled laugh behind me. I stood up, smiled and started to walk away. After a second of stunned silence, their table erupted into laughter. Wow, I really was kind of saucy wasn't I? I was several feet away when I heard Braden call out and my heart slammed into my chest wall.
“Hey Gabrielle!” I turned around and quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. He gave a devastatingly sexy smile and then said loudly enough to be heard over the crowd, “I can handle your sharp tongue too!” More raucous laughter echoed around him and I dug down deep and found courage that could only be developed after three years of exposure to sadists who enjoyed destroying self-confidence (law professors.)
“Behave or I’ll make you prove it!” I called back loudly, smiling as if I had issued a challenge, and then I turned back around and kept walking. Mercifully, I didn't trip over anything. That one went over very well at the prosecutors’ table, incidentally. I thought for a minute that they were going to either give me a standing ovation or start shoving dollar bills in my stylish but sensible suit skirt. Jess looked over at me with an expression of stunned delight.
“Who are you and what have you done with Gabrielle Ginsberg?”
“So, that was kind of flirty, wasn't it?”
“Kind of? That gets at least an R rating,” she giggled. I looked up and saw Mark waving at us.
“Hey Jessica, Gabrielle!” He had obviously heard that little exchange because he was looking over at their table and laughing with obvious surprise. But then most of the crowd had probably heard it. Jess and I changed course and headed over to join Mark at his end of the table.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“It's certainly been interesting so far,” Jess answered, giving me a slightly bewildered look.
“Have some beer. I'm driving,” Mark said. We filled up two plastic cups from a pile sitting next to a pitcher. “So, what's this about Braden and your tongue, Gabrielle?”
“They were teasing me and I just teased back a little,” I said dismissively, taking a sip of beer.
Jess told him about our little back and forth exchange and he laughed again and looked at me, like he didn’t recognize me and he was trying to figure out who I was.
“So, flirting with Braden, huh?” he asked, sounding both amused and surprised.
“Just being saucy.” I smiled.
“Oh she was totally flirting with him,” Jess corrected, giving me a conspiratorial look. She was so proud of me – I could just tell.
Mark looked back over at the other table. They were off to my side, and I didn’t want to turn and look directly at them, but he seemed to be sharing some kind of unspoken communication with someone over there. I thought I saw him nod subtly and shrug. I wished that I knew what they were saying to each other. I took a deep breath and sat there for a second to let what I had just done sink in.
I couldn’t believe that I had actually pulled it off! I had flirted with Braden Pierce. Geek girl had flirted with gorgeous guy, senator’s son, the man who had his own fan club among the members of the Women’s Bar Association. I felt mad, bad and dangerous to know! I had a feeling that it would be one of those moments I would relive mentally for years. Like the time that I had refused to pay the ten cent fine because the library had closed early the day before and the drop box was locked. In the world of a ten-year-old that was Civil Disobedience at its finest. (I was such a rebel.) I might never actually get to go out with this incredibly hot man, but for one brief moment in time, I was the sexy confident woman in the room. Inner-Gabrielle pumped her fist in victory. It was Miller Time.
Now that the adrenaline was hitting me full force, I was feeling a lot of nervous tension and without really thinking about it I downed a couple of cups of beer in rapid succession. That’s a nice way of saying that I probably could have won a chugging contest at a frat house. Not long after I finished the second one, a waitress stopped over and handed me a piece of paper. It was a note. She told me that if I wanted to reply she would deliver it for me. By the look she was giving me I had a feeling that a monetary donation to her effort would be involved. I looked down and read while she waited, shifting her weight back and forth impatiently.
Dear Gabrielle,
I’ve never seen you this saucy before. You’re not under the influence are you?
Sincerely,
Braden T. Pierce, Esq.
Assistant District Attorney
Oh great! He thought that I was drunk! So much for confident and sexy. I showed the note to Jess and Mark who found it highly entertaining. In fact, Mark almost did a spit take. That doesn’t just happen in movies. Trust me. I thought he was done drinking by the way. He looked up at their table and laughed openly. Oh, he thought that was funny did he? I responded directly below and gave it to the waitress to deliver, along with a generous tip.
Dear Braden,
You’ve never seen me outside of court before. Are you implying that I am behaving in a drunk and disorderly manner?
Regards,
Gabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.
Public Defender
Just then another group of public defenders from our office came pouring through the door. Someone called out to inform us one of our colleagues had won a trial and it was time to drink and bond. I sighed and prepared. Here came the shots. I heard laughter coming from Braden’s table when my reply arrived. About five minutes later, the waitress, who was probably making some good money with this, had returned with another note written below the other two.
Dear Gabrielle,
I assure you that I am making no such implication. In fact, I like the way you’re behaving very much. I’m, frankly, intrigued by your threat to make me prove that I can handle your tongue. I must confess it makes me want to misbehave.