That Kind of Girl (3/5)
Jack was elated. He was finally getting divorced.
He wasn't sure if it was the girlfriend ruse with Lemon (he thought of her by her last name, although he had to resist the urge to call his date anything other than Liz) or Bianca's own pending nuptials, but she'd folded on every important dispute in the settlement. He was rid of this cancer in his life. He was free.
He wanted to party, and got Tracy to go out with him for a while. But when he started to descend into severe inebriation, Tracy split to see his wife. Robbed of the movie-star glow and with Jack becoming a less and less interesting drunk, the women who had been adoringly listening to them drifted off. He found himself alone.
Jack's thoughts turned to his most recent love interest. There was something about Liz Lemon. She was no Beyonce, but he felt a connection to her on another level. She was not that kind of girl that he would use for a bit and just throw away -- she had too much potential for that -- but neither was she his other type, the fully-formed super-woman that usually captured his more noble interest. She was in between. If she hadn't quit so hastily, he might have developed a wonderful mentorship relationship with her at work. But that apparently wasn't to be.
His mind blurred by drink, he showed up to her apartment. To say that she was not as well dressed as their last date would be an understatement. It occurred to Jack that in his excitement he hadn't done anything about Valentine's Day. Not that there was enough there yet with Liz to make a big deal out of it.
"Jack, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you."
That was an obvious, and not very helpful, answer. "How come?"
"Liz, I'm divorced."
"I know. You told me that on our date."
"No, I mean, I'm finally, legally free of her. Today." He took her hand and did a little dance with her, as if they were on a ballroom floor. As he dipped her, she caught a whiff of his breath.
"How drunk are you?"
"A lot to very. What do you say, Liz. You and me. Atlantic City. We can be in the crepe line at the Borghata by dawn."
"No, Jack. What's the matter with you?"
"I'm celebrating. I want Bianca to see that I'm moving on."
"What, is she here?" Liz looked behind Jack, nervously, involuntarily clutching her chest. "You didn't bring her along, did you?"
"Do you think I should call her? She'd probably come right over."
Liz's heart broke a little, seeing her new prospect reveal himself to be nothing but a huge pile of baggage. "Jack, this is sick. This whole thing is sick."
"You just don't understand. It's complicated."
"You've got to get out of each other's lives, Jack. Between the two of you, you are 100 years old, and this is not a dignified way for a 100-year-old couple to behave! "
Jack's mood appeared to shift abruptly. "I know, I know."
He looked her over, amorously. "Wanna get some dessert?"
"Go home, Jack."
In too bouncy of a mood to be brought down by this, he was nevertheless a bit disappointed in her. He strolled out her door and resumed his night on the town, ending up at Tracy's hotel room.
**
With Jack forced out of her door for the second time in little more than a week, Liz exhaled and frowned. She'd gotten a little swept up in the possibilities, the hope that he might really like her, but clearly that was a fantasy. She was a diversion to him, feeding some sort of hole in his heart left by his ex-wife.
In truth, she wasn't just letting go of Jack; she was letting go of the idea that she was experiencing a temporary setback, that life in New York held out something better than Dennis and teaching improv.
That night, she sat down with her computer and finally finished that screenplay.
**
He called a couple of nights later.
"Liz-- I'm sorry about the other night. As you could tell, I wasn't fully in control of my faculties."
"It's never a dull moment with you, is it?"
"Not if I can help it."
There was a pause.
"I'd like to make it up to you. Shall we have dinner this Friday?"
"I don't know, Jack. I'm not sure I want to get involved with someone who isn't over his ex-wife."
“I assure you, I can keep it together this time.”
Liz paused. It's not as if she had something better to do. She might not be in New York much longer, so she might as well try some of its nicer restaurants. And as vices go, it wasn't as if Jack was a Dateline predator.
Probably. She should keep watching that show.
“OK, but only because I love food.” As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realized that probably wasn't the most alluring thing she could have said.
**
Jack was going on about something - in fact, he seemed unnervingly aroused by discussing the negotiation he was looking forward to - when Liz had to mention the elephant in the room.
“Jack, I sold a screenplay.”
He effortlessly adjusted to the change in subject.“Congratulations!”
“And I'm moving to Los Angeles.”
Liz hadn't exactly struck it rich. It was an independent filmmaker that had made her an offer. If the film did well she could make serious money and move on to bigger things, but there were no guarantees. Still, it was the next step. There was nothing left for her in New York except for a very young relationship with a very old and very complicated man.
Jack's expression shifted to.. disappointed? “I see.”
Liz felt a little bad about it. In the reckless spirit that comes with planning to leave town, she made out with him a bit in the car.
She thought it a nice way to say goodbye. And Liz had already decided that Jack, for all his faults, was hot, so it was fun.
**
Jack was more than disappointed; he found himself positively unsettled by the idea of Liz Lemon leaving his life. What followed was an even bigger blow.
His NBC Fireworks Special had been a complete disaster. In its aftermath, Don Geiss took microwaves away from him. Furthermore, Geiss criticized his personal life, telling him to stop being a playboy and get married.
In a panic of self-doubt triggered by his mentor, Jack grasped for the available options. Any woman that had been worth more than a few weeks of his time had been pretty decisively driven off: Bianca and Condi, most recently. Except one: Liz, where it was promising but early; in any case, she was moving away soon. There was a girl named Phoebe, who seemed cultured and had been very flirtatious with him only a few days before.
It took him only a moment to see that Lemon had more long-term potential than Phoebe, even with how little he knew about the latter. He could picture her on his arm on a night five years from now, sparring with him and not overwhelmed by his wealth, power, and good looks. And in a way he couldn't quite explain, he thought she might open doors for him, too, doors that he didn't even know were closed. It would be a good match.
If she could be persuaded to stay in New York.
It was time for drastic action. He dropped by Cartier to buy something that kept his options open, and called her for another date.
TBC....
He wasn't sure if it was the girlfriend ruse with Lemon (he thought of her by her last name, although he had to resist the urge to call his date anything other than Liz) or Bianca's own pending nuptials, but she'd folded on every important dispute in the settlement. He was rid of this cancer in his life. He was free.
He wanted to party, and got Tracy to go out with him for a while. But when he started to descend into severe inebriation, Tracy split to see his wife. Robbed of the movie-star glow and with Jack becoming a less and less interesting drunk, the women who had been adoringly listening to them drifted off. He found himself alone.
Jack's thoughts turned to his most recent love interest. There was something about Liz Lemon. She was no Beyonce, but he felt a connection to her on another level. She was not that kind of girl that he would use for a bit and just throw away -- she had too much potential for that -- but neither was she his other type, the fully-formed super-woman that usually captured his more noble interest. She was in between. If she hadn't quit so hastily, he might have developed a wonderful mentorship relationship with her at work. But that apparently wasn't to be.
His mind blurred by drink, he showed up to her apartment. To say that she was not as well dressed as their last date would be an understatement. It occurred to Jack that in his excitement he hadn't done anything about Valentine's Day. Not that there was enough there yet with Liz to make a big deal out of it.
"Jack, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you."
That was an obvious, and not very helpful, answer. "How come?"
"Liz, I'm divorced."
"I know. You told me that on our date."
"No, I mean, I'm finally, legally free of her. Today." He took her hand and did a little dance with her, as if they were on a ballroom floor. As he dipped her, she caught a whiff of his breath.
"How drunk are you?"
"A lot to very. What do you say, Liz. You and me. Atlantic City. We can be in the crepe line at the Borghata by dawn."
"No, Jack. What's the matter with you?"
"I'm celebrating. I want Bianca to see that I'm moving on."
"What, is she here?" Liz looked behind Jack, nervously, involuntarily clutching her chest. "You didn't bring her along, did you?"
"Do you think I should call her? She'd probably come right over."
Liz's heart broke a little, seeing her new prospect reveal himself to be nothing but a huge pile of baggage. "Jack, this is sick. This whole thing is sick."
"You just don't understand. It's complicated."
"You've got to get out of each other's lives, Jack. Between the two of you, you are 100 years old, and this is not a dignified way for a 100-year-old couple to behave! "
Jack's mood appeared to shift abruptly. "I know, I know."
He looked her over, amorously. "Wanna get some dessert?"
"Go home, Jack."
In too bouncy of a mood to be brought down by this, he was nevertheless a bit disappointed in her. He strolled out her door and resumed his night on the town, ending up at Tracy's hotel room.
**
With Jack forced out of her door for the second time in little more than a week, Liz exhaled and frowned. She'd gotten a little swept up in the possibilities, the hope that he might really like her, but clearly that was a fantasy. She was a diversion to him, feeding some sort of hole in his heart left by his ex-wife.
In truth, she wasn't just letting go of Jack; she was letting go of the idea that she was experiencing a temporary setback, that life in New York held out something better than Dennis and teaching improv.
That night, she sat down with her computer and finally finished that screenplay.
**
He called a couple of nights later.
"Liz-- I'm sorry about the other night. As you could tell, I wasn't fully in control of my faculties."
"It's never a dull moment with you, is it?"
"Not if I can help it."
There was a pause.
"I'd like to make it up to you. Shall we have dinner this Friday?"
"I don't know, Jack. I'm not sure I want to get involved with someone who isn't over his ex-wife."
“I assure you, I can keep it together this time.”
Liz paused. It's not as if she had something better to do. She might not be in New York much longer, so she might as well try some of its nicer restaurants. And as vices go, it wasn't as if Jack was a Dateline predator.
Probably. She should keep watching that show.
“OK, but only because I love food.” As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she realized that probably wasn't the most alluring thing she could have said.
**
Jack was going on about something - in fact, he seemed unnervingly aroused by discussing the negotiation he was looking forward to - when Liz had to mention the elephant in the room.
“Jack, I sold a screenplay.”
He effortlessly adjusted to the change in subject.“Congratulations!”
“And I'm moving to Los Angeles.”
Liz hadn't exactly struck it rich. It was an independent filmmaker that had made her an offer. If the film did well she could make serious money and move on to bigger things, but there were no guarantees. Still, it was the next step. There was nothing left for her in New York except for a very young relationship with a very old and very complicated man.
Jack's expression shifted to.. disappointed? “I see.”
Liz felt a little bad about it. In the reckless spirit that comes with planning to leave town, she made out with him a bit in the car.
She thought it a nice way to say goodbye. And Liz had already decided that Jack, for all his faults, was hot, so it was fun.
**
Jack was more than disappointed; he found himself positively unsettled by the idea of Liz Lemon leaving his life. What followed was an even bigger blow.
His NBC Fireworks Special had been a complete disaster. In its aftermath, Don Geiss took microwaves away from him. Furthermore, Geiss criticized his personal life, telling him to stop being a playboy and get married.
In a panic of self-doubt triggered by his mentor, Jack grasped for the available options. Any woman that had been worth more than a few weeks of his time had been pretty decisively driven off: Bianca and Condi, most recently. Except one: Liz, where it was promising but early; in any case, she was moving away soon. There was a girl named Phoebe, who seemed cultured and had been very flirtatious with him only a few days before.
It took him only a moment to see that Lemon had more long-term potential than Phoebe, even with how little he knew about the latter. He could picture her on his arm on a night five years from now, sparring with him and not overwhelmed by his wealth, power, and good looks. And in a way he couldn't quite explain, he thought she might open doors for him, too, doors that he didn't even know were closed. It would be a good match.
If she could be persuaded to stay in New York.
It was time for drastic action. He dropped by Cartier to buy something that kept his options open, and called her for another date.
TBC....