Five First Dates

by Erin McCarthy

  He’d left early, waving off my offer of coffee. He’d been dressed all in black, with lots of metal lining his wrists, a skull hanging around his neck. The women who watched the reality show were going to love him. He was easy to look at, that was for sure. Especially without a shirt on. Not that any of them would see him without a shirt on. Right?

  “I need your next clothing capsule video by Friday,” Xander said. “And Chloe needs a consult on her subscription box series.”

  I nodded, forcing myself to focus on the content editor. Xander Billings had hired me three years ago, and had been an easy boss, and helpful mentor. He was about ten years older than me, with impeccable style, and a brilliant British accent. His father was English, his mother Pakistani, and he’d been raised in London, but came to New York for a relationship.

  The boyfriend hadn’t worked out, but he’d carved himself a life in New York and had no plans to return to London.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “Yes. Are you going to explain to me why you’re so distracted? Don’t make me question letting you work at home. You know I’m a huge advocate for childcare.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know you are. Don’t worry. I’m going to be working primarily at night because I have a friend from my hometown staying with me for a few months. He works during the day but at night he’ll be watching Sully so I can knock out my workload. He got here yesterday.”

  Xander’s eyebrows rose. “He? Interesting.”

  “He’s my little brother’s best friend.” I thought that would make Xander lose interest, and it somewhat did.

  “Is he attractive?”

  “Very. But he’s covered in ink and looks like he belongs in a motorcycle club.”

  Xander shook his head. “Oh, that’s not your type at all. Good. You already having an infant demanding your attention. You don’t need a man doing the same. We have deadlines and the constant threat of competition chomping at our heels.”

  Then I would keep Operation Fix Up Savannah to myself.

  And the fact that I had every intention of taking Sully to the park that afternoon. It was seventy degrees in October. I had to take advantage of the weather while I still could. It would basically be a crime not to.

  “Think of my nanny as a positive, not a negative.” That was how I was going to approach it. If Maddox could help me regain an ounce or two of my sanity, it was worth the occasional discomfort when my body felt the need to betray me and have a sexy response to him.

  “I will assume, then, that I’ll have that video in my inbox tomorrow.”

  Shit. “Of course. Absolutely. By the end of the day.”

  We ended our call and I swiveled my chair around, sighing. Fall in Barcelona. I needed to pull that video out of my butt in twenty-four hours. Time to pack up Sully and hit the stores for some affordable inspiration. The concept of the capsule wardrobe was key pieces that you packed for a vacation that could be readily mixed and matched. I gave all the links to online purchase sources, obviously, but most of the features had me wearing the combination of outfits, so I usually shopped at a handful of standard stores in a variety of price points.

  The company comped me, so it was something I usually loved doing. Free clothes are never a bad thing.

  But it was a different story shopping with a six-month-old.

  As I worked on the holiday outfits article, I got a text from Leah.

  Grant’s cousin.

  She followed that up with a picture of a good-looking guy standing in front of a sailboat. I zoomed in. Yep. Definitely attractive. He was wearing shorts, boat shoes, and a button up shirt in a pastel plaid. Caramel-colored hair, casually tousled. The smile of a man who has the world by the balls but isn’t a prick about it.

  Oooh, he’s cute.

  That is his sailboat, by the way. Too bad it’s not summer.

  I let my mind wander for a split second. Summers in the Hamptons. A house in Connecticut. Fabulous vacations, private schools, a wardrobe to die for. I wasn’t seeking out a wealthy lifestyle, but I wouldn’t say no to it either.

  Sully, who was napping, coughed in his sleep. I let go of the fantasy and listened to hear if he was going to wake up or not. No further sounds emerged from the bedroom.

  Did you mention me to him?

  Not yet. Give me a current pic and I’ll let Grant be the go-between. Unless you just want me to send him to your YouTube channel.

  Ew, no! That’s weird.

  I did not want him seeing me posing in floppy hats for summer in Switzerland. Not until after he met me in person.

  It’s not weird, it’s practical.

  Practical is not cute. I’ll send you something later. I have to finish this article right now. Work-life balance is a struggle.

  Leah sent laughing emojis back.

  Can I send him to your social media?

  No! Just wait, I’ll send you a pic.

  I wanted it perfectly curated to the receiver.

  It occurred to me that might actually be the worst possible thing to do, but it didn’t stop me from devoting ten minutes to scouring my phone for an image of me in crop pants at the beach in August.

  I sent it to Leah.

  Why is this better than your Instagram?

  I don’t want him seeing random pics.

  As I went back to my article, determined to focus and knock it out, she just sent me a “kk” text.

  Sully started crying, effectively ending my worktime.

  “I’m an idiot,” I told my empty apartment. I’d wasted time searching for a photo when I should have been working. “I might even be hopeless,” I said, even as I lifted my phone off my desk and stared at the image of the man Leah had sent.

  What’s his name?

  I held my phone in my hand as I stood up to go get the baby.

  Yates.

  Is that his first name or last name?

  First. Yates Caldwell.

  I sent a wide-eyed emoji back and shoved my phone in my back pocket.

  Sully had rolled onto his stomach and was lying there crying. He instantly stopped when he saw me. I smiled and reached for him.

  Good on paper wasn’t always good in real life. Like Sullivan’s father. I needed to remember that.

  “I’m just going to keep an open mind and live in the moment,” I told Sully in a singsong voice. “That’s all I can do, right? No expectations. Just meeting new people.”

  He smiled, like he actually believed me.

  * * *

  I hadn’t thought working with a camera crew all around me was going to bother me, but after a morning of introductions and being shown around the shop, I wasn’t sure I was going to be as cool with it as I’d thought. It made for a crowded room and the producer would interrupt to interject questions to engage me and the customer to make it more interesting.

  We weren’t actually tattooing, just doing mock-ups to get the feel for it and I wasn’t sure I loved any of this.

  Eye on the prize.

  That’s what I had to remind myself.

  Cameras were a byproduct.

  I needed this gig for the money and the exposure.

  And the access to Savannah.

  The shop itself was pretty insane. I loved the vibe of being around all artists my own age and the décor was rock’n’roll. Exposed brick, black glass chandeliers, massive art pieces on the walls. The chairs were open-concept, which was different for me. I was used to working in a private room, but I thought I was actually going to appreciate the natural light.

  They were only featuring five of us on the show. Three guys and two women. Travis was the owner of Rebel Ink and he was a tall, skinny guy with gauges in his ears, a nose piercing, and glasses. He was like the cartoon Waldo but with tats and piercings. Samuel was the youngest at twenty-one, Haitian, with an infectious laugh. I could easily imagine teen girls watching the show and falling hard for him with his easy charm. Stella was a blonde from Texas and didn’t fit in with the stereotypical tattoo artist.
She had very few tattoos herself and no piercings. She was wearing a hot pink shirt with ruffles. First impression, she was sweet, but I couldn’t quite get a read on her. I clicked instantly with our fifth artist, Jana. She was petite, wore skinny jeans and Converse, and said it like it was. We all had different backgrounds, and different tattoo areas of specialty.

  Having no experience with filming, I just kept my mouth shut and did as I was told. The producer was cool, and overall I felt like I could handle whatever he needed me to do to make the show interesting. The work itself didn’t intimidate me. I’d been chosen because I did a ton of blackwork, meaning inking only in black. It required a lot of shading skill and I was proud of my work.

  It was an intense morning, and when the producer told us at two we could leave for the day, I was cool with that.

  “Hey, you want to grab something to eat or go to the park?” Jana asked me. “It’s nice outside today and I want to get a little bit of a glimpse at Brooklyn.”

  I figured I still had a couple of hours before Savannah would expect me at the apartment. “Sure, sounds good.”

  She leaned closer to me and gave me a guilty look. “I would ask Travis and Samuel because they’re cool, but then I’d have to ask Stella.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She’s not my people.” Jana gave me a shrug and a grin. “That makes me sound horrible.”

  Horrible was extreme, but it seemed like a quick judgment. “You just met her.”

  She looked around to make sure no one was listening. She gestured to the front door, so we waved to everyone in the room and left the shop. It was warm outside for October. I stretched and fell into step beside her as she started down the sidewalk.

  “I was bullied in high school, like a lot of people. But an Asian lesbian is an easy target. Now I have a sixth sense for mean girls and she reeks of one. Maybe I’m wrong. We’ll see. But I’m not going to waste energy trying to be friends with her when I don’t think I’m wrong.”

  “I appreciate trusting your gut. Sometimes the gut steers you wrong though.” I gave her a smile. “I could be a total dick for all you know. You might regret hanging out with me.”

  She waved her hand. “Nah. You’re the kind of guy who looks tough but is a total softie. I bet you like puppies and babies.”

  I nodded. “Guilty. And I can’t claim to know what it feels like to be you, so you’re probably right. I didn’t have a positive reaction to Stella, but I can’t say it was negative either.”

  She pointed a finger at me. “But see? You had a neutral reaction, which for a cis man with a hot blonde is basically a negative response.”

  I wasn’t even going to question how she had concluded I was a straight guy. She was also probably right on my reaction. “That is probably true. Though you’re implying men can’t think straight around hot blondes.”

  She gave me side-eye. “Well, can they?”

  I pictured Savannah. “I prefer redheads.”

  That made her laugh. “It’s not an insult. I go crazy for hot blondes too. It’s biology. We’re all susceptible to being stupid when we’re attracted to someone.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked as we crossed the street toward the park.

  The whole vibe of the park was cool and interesting. The city had turned an old industrial area into greenspace and I found the mix of the natural with the manmade a fascinating juxtaposition. The trees were ablaze with fall colors.

  “No, I just went through a shockingly easy breakup. We’re still friends and everything is chill. How about you?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “You hesitated,” Jana said, giving me a mischievous smile. “So there is someone, just not an officially defined boyfriend/girlfriend situation.”

  “Are you sure you’re a tattoo artist and not a sociologist or clairvoyant?” For barely being five feet tall, Jana was a little terrifying.

  “I can just sense it. Do tell, Maddox. All your secrets are safe with me.”

  “I don’t have secrets. I just want one woman in particular, that’s all.” I stopped walking abruptly.

  A woman who was in front of me. Right now.

  My heart and my cock both reacted the way they normally did around Savannah, tightening.

  What were the odds? We were only a few blocks from her apartment but the timing was perfect.

  She was pushing a stroller down the path in our direction. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck, her hair piled on her head. She saw me a second after I saw her.

  “Maddox!” she said, her mouth splitting into a smile as we met each other on the path.

  “Hi,” I said, running my hand over Sully’s soft hair. “Hey, buddy.”

  The baby made a sound and lifted his arms, the universal gesture to be picked up.

  “Can I take him out?” I asked. “I know how hard it can be to get babies back in the stroller once they’re sprung.”

  Savannah waved her hand. “No, it’s fine.” She smiled at Jana. “Hi, I’m Savannah.”

  “Sorry,” I said as I unclicked Sully and picked him up. He instantly reached for my necklace and lifted it up. “Savannah, this is Jana, from Rebel Ink. Jana, this is Savannah. And this is Sullivan.” I took my necklace out of his grip when he started to shove it in his mouth and tossed it around so the skull was dangling on my back out of his reach.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” Jana was eyeing the situation with clear comprehension.

  Savannah was a redhead.

  Jana liked to assess things.

  She was definitely onto me.

  “How is the show going?” Savannah asked.

  “So far, so good,” Jana said. “We’re done for the day. We were just going to grab something to eat if you want to join us.”

  “Oh, thanks for the invite, but I have a ton of work to do. Maddox, are you okay with watching Sully later? I have a piece I have to turn in by tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine. Just give me a time you want me there.”

  “Perfect, thanks. I’m going to head home now. This working-mom thing is no joke.”

  I lifted Sully up in the air so he squealed in delight, then pulled him down and kissed his chubby cheek. “See you later, little man.” I returned him to the stroller and clicked the strap to lock him in.

  Savannah turned the stroller and waved goodbye.

  I just watched her walk, appreciating her ass in her tight jeans.

  “Bench. Now,” Jana said, pointing to a free park bench in the opposite direction.

  She sounded so fierce I was amused. “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m going to explode if I can’t talk in the next thirty seconds and I need her out of earshot.”

  Jana did look like she was going to burst. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet and twisting her long hair into a cone.

  We went and sat down. “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “I knew you liked babies,” she said. “God, I’m good.” She eyed Savannah, now just a speck exiting the park. “But I have to say, I didn’t actually think you had a baby. Or a baby mama that you’re clearly still one hundred percent in love with. So what wrecked the relationship?”

  “Slow your roll,” I said dryly. “Sully is not my son.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oooh, so she cheated and got knocked up? Damn.”

  That was a horrible fucking thought. “No. We were never together. We’re friends. Her brother is my best friend. We grew up together. While I’m doing the show, I’m staying with her. In exchange for a place to live, I watch the baby when she needs me to.”

  “Is the baby’s father around?”

  “No.”

  Jana nodded. “I figured as much. No man wants a muscular tattooed old friend as a nanny, living with his girlfriend.”

  “It’s not like that. Savannah thinks of me as a little brother.” Unfortunately. For now.


  “But you do want to be with her, right?”

  I wasn’t sure why I was being honest with Jana when I’d just met her, but on the other hand, it seemed like she already had an accurate read on the situation, so why pretend I wasn’t head over ass for Savannah? “Yes.” I leaned back against the bench and put my ankle over the opposite knee, studying my work boots.

  “Then make a play for her.”

  I had every intention of doing that, but didn’t feel like I needed to spell out my actions to Jana. “It’s complicated.”

  “Do you think she thinks you’re hot?” Jana pulled both of her knees up to her chest and rested her feet on the edge of the bench. “I would assume most women would think you’re hot. You have the right package.”

  I gave a scoff. “Thanks. I think. And yes, given things she’s said, she thinks I’ve grown up just fine. But she doesn’t want to go there. She’s got her friends setting her up on dates.”

  “And you’re just going to sit and watch her wind up with someone else?”

  “I’m waiting for the right moment.” The sun felt fantastic on my face and I tipped my head back.

  “You just want to wait around and hope something happens?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just need to lay the groundwork.”

  I could feel Jana staring at me. “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. So let’s lay the groundwork.”

  I eyed her. “I don’t think you can help me with that, but thanks.”

  “I can plot with the best of them. What are her favorite activities, foods, movies?”

  “She loves romantic comedies,” I said, without hesitation. “And fashion.”

  “Oh, Maddox, this is gold. We can set up every rom-com moment. She’ll be eating out of your hand in a month.” Jana held her hand up to give me a high five.

  “We’re high-fiving?” But I did it, because I loved her enthusiasm. My only friend in New York was Savannah. It would be nice to have an ally if Jana was serious about all of this. “And what rom-com moments?”

  “You need to do research online. But basically, we need you to save her from her boss, get her a promotion, be her confidant, accidentally slow dance with her, or pretend to be her boyfriend at a wedding. Maybe eat a pizza with her on a fire escape and almost kiss about ten times.”