Reunited: Matchmakers Book 4

by Declan Rhodes

  I turned around to face Sean. “Who turned you into a philosopher all of a sudden?”

  He reached out to straighten the shoulders of my charcoal-colored jacket. “You know, sometimes there are a few flaws on the surface, but you should always look beyond that. After you get a glimpse inside, you’ll see whether it’s right for you. How many times have you seen a chocolate candy in a Valentine’s box and thought it was awful fruit jelly inside. Then, when it’s the last one left, and you bite down, that ooey-gooey chocolate-caramel coats your mouth and makes you go ‘Ooo.’”

  “Honestly, Sean, do you want to tell me something? You’d do better if you come right out with it instead of trying to speak in some absurd code.”

  “Are you eager for the date? I’m not so sure. I know you’re fussing with how you look, but I’ve not even heard the guy’s first name.”

  “It’s Da…vid.” I knew what name nearly popped out of my mouth, and I hoped that Sean didn’t notice. My face felt warm, and I knew that I had at least a slight pink blush on my cheeks.

  “And what do you hope happens?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know. Why the interrogation? It’s a date. That’s all it is.”

  My heart wasn’t entirely in it. Blake called me with the information on my new date. We planned dinner at a buzzy restaurant in River North. I never heard from Daniel, but he was still stubbornly residing in a corner of my head…and my heart.

  Sean gave my tie one last tug. “Okay, it’s only a date. I hope you have fun. I’ll want to hear all the details, and if you need anything, I’m only a text message or phone call away. I’ll be binge-watch some silly comedy all evening long.”

  “If you don’t find the right woman in the next ten years or so, your failure to become a father will be a waste. My parents were never as attentive as you.”

  David hung out at the restaurant’s bar until I arrived. The establishment was full of curiosity seekers. Despite the crowd, I couldn’t miss David. He stood nearly six feet four inches tall and had a body shaped like a beanpole. He wasn’t unattractive, but his long, lean face bore a hint of sadness.

  I offered a handshake, and David reached out with a long-fingered paw, nearly twice the size of my hand. The touch was warm, but it was a little too heavy. David needed some instruction on graceful introductions.

  While we waited for a server to appear at the table, I asked about work, the well-worn American icebreaker for a first meeting.

  “I teach American History at one of the high schools in the suburbs, and I’m the assistant basketball coach.” David cast his eyes upward as he held his right hand over his head and made a good-natured joke about his height. I appreciated the opportunity to laugh. For a moment, it increased my interest in my date for the night.

  “I’ve never played myself, but I enjoy watching basketball.”

  David spoke in a loud, boisterous voice. I thought about the words emerging from an echo chamber as they made the long journey out of the mouth of the tall man. “I went to high school in a small town in northern Wisconsin. I was the tallest on the team. That should tell you something.”

  I did know enough to realize that six foot four inches tall was not particularly tall for a basketball player. “And do you like to travel?”

  “Not a lot. Planes are hard for me. I’ve been to Washington, D.C. once, and I went to California when I was five.”

  I couldn’t let vacation days go by without a trip to some exotic destination. Without any specific encouragement, memories about travel with Daniel flooded my mind. It was nearly impossible to fight them off.

  “Where’ve you been?” asked David. “Road trips are always fun.”

  After I rattled off Paris, Rome, and Brazil, I realized they were all places my date wouldn’t enjoy reaching on a plane. I redirected my thoughts and hesitantly mentioned Indianapolis and Minneapolis as road trip possibilities.

  When our server appeared, David opted for iced tea instead of wine. I decided that I needed fortifications to get through what would likely be a long night and stuck to my order of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  David leaned partway across the table with eagerly inquisitive eyes. “And tell me about your work. The profile said you own your own business.”

  I began to describe the bathroom mirror products I sold. “The potential for growth has risen as men understand that it’s okay to treat their skin and hair well.”

  David rubbed his chin. “I don’t use half of those.”

  I hoped that David might follow up with questions about daily skincare regimens. I could offer advice to help keep the conversation afloat, but instead, he dropped my work as a topic. David pivoted to a monologue about how rarely he found his way into the center of the city due to his life out in the suburbs. That was the death knell for many relationships in the Chicago area. The city and the suburbs might as well have been different countries with an impenetrable wall between them.

  The longer the evening wore on, the harder it was to keep Daniel out of my head. I was distracted and bored. Nostalgic memories took advantage of the gaps and filled my thoughts. When I began to run the most recent experiences in my bed at home through my head, I had to excuse myself to visit the men’s room. There, I splashed water on my face and growled, “Get a grip.”

  I was ready to go home when the meal came to an end. There was too little I had in common with David whether Daniel was in my head or not.

  As I prepared to say goodbye, David suggested a cocktail before ending the evening. “There’s a new bar on Michigan Avenue that I read about in the newspaper.” People still read newspapers?

  He sounded so eager, and he repeated the fact that he rarely made it “downtown.” I didn’t feel selfish enough to turn him down.

  The bar was a pleasant diversion. The designer chose to echo the style of old-fashioned gentlemen’s clubs with floor to ceiling carved wood and quiet corners to sit and chat while customers waited for a designer drink. It was the kind of place I’d love with Daniel at my side.

  Five minutes after we arrived, a piano player settled in and played pop songs from the 1970s. David leaned close to me. “Maybe this is what it would’ve been like to listen to Billy Joel when he had his piano man gig. I wish I could have been there.”

  I pasted a forced smile on my face. The comment made me think of late-night infomercials that scrolled the names of pop hits from the past. I tried not to sound rude when I said, “Maybe so.”

  We finally found a mutually entertaining subject of conversation when David mentioned old movies. He confessed to checking out videos and then DVDs from the public library to see movie stars from Humphrey Bogart to Cary Grant and Gary Cooper.

  I eagerly shared details about my great aunt, Pauline, who worked as an extra in Hollywood in the 50s and 60s. I had loads of fun childhood memories of watching movies with Aunt Pauline for hours while she shared her stories.

  Our conversation found its way to a discussion of Alfred Hitchcock’s films. David was a fan of Psycho, The Birds, and Rope. I leaned more toward suspense classics like North By Northwest, Strangers on a Train, and The Man Who Knew Too Much.

  I reached my hand across our small table to grasp my date’s fingers. It was the first time we touched since our introductory handshake. “And, Daniel, you have to see Dial M for Murder if you’ve never seen it.”

  “Who?”

  “Not who. What. It’s another Hitchcock film, Dial M for Murder.”

  “I think you called me Daniel.”

  My eyes opened wide as I extricated my fingers from David’s grip. I ran the words back in my head. He was correct. Daniel was so present in my thoughts that I blurted out his name without thinking. My subconscious mind assumed that if I were on a date, it had to be with Daniel.

  I tried to shake it off as I looked at David’s long, sad face. “David. Daniel. That’s two D’s, and they are close together. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries. I’ve been called much worse.”

  Perhaps
my explanation was good enough for David, but it didn’t ring true to me. I had to think things through before another effort to strike up a relationship with somebody new. Maybe I needed a long break from any kind of dating. Or perhaps I needed to think more about Daniel. I lowered my head and sipped the last of my drink. It’d been a long night.

  19

  Daniel

  I couldn’t remember the last time I found it so difficult to sleep. For what felt like an endless span of days, I found myself awake until 2:00 a.m. while I binged on TV shows that meant nothing to me. If I didn’t get myself tired and sleepy enough that I drifted off when my head hit the pillow, I’d lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for another sleepless hour.

  While I lay there in the darkness, I thought about was the last time I had sex with Kenneth. A few minutes later, I’d think about him dating another man, and it made me angry enough to want to punch my fist through the wall. The world meant for us to be together. There was no other way to understand it.

  With dark circles under my eyes that the best concealer couldn’t hide, I took Blake out for lunch to ask for advice.

  “Relax and let it rest. I’m impressed that you’re not giving up this time. We don’t have any feedback on that date yet. When I glanced at the profiles, they didn’t look like a great match to me, but we do trust the computer.”

  “Damn the computer.”

  After three more nights with only four hours of sleep, I couldn’t remember what day it was. My cellphone said Thursday. I found myself staring at the TV again while brain cells slowly gave up and jumped over the rails to their early deaths. It was apparent that I needed to change something, and, for the first time in at least five years, I found my way to a neighborhood bar solo. I didn’t have the energy to visit gay bars downtown.

  For the first 30 minutes, I sat at the bar alone nursing an Old-Fashioned. The establishment was upscale, and the bartender knew what he was doing with brandy and bitters.

  While I sat and sipped from my glass, I conquered my misery for a few minutes and managed to pull my thoughts away from self-pity and jealousy over Kenneth. Three seats away, a man close to my age sat alone as well. I discreetly observed him and hoped that he’d turn in my direction. Finding a date wasn’t on my mind, but if I could manage a conversation, it would help pass the time.

  When the man turned and our eyes met, my breath caught in my throat. He was handsome, almost stunningly good-looking. He complemented his perfectly sculpted face with a black t-shirt that fit tight across his broad, muscular chest. He had salt-and-pepper hair, and his full, toothy style made all my other life worries melt away, at least for a few minutes.

  I assumed that the man was straight, and that made it easy to let any interest in a pickup disappear. After our eyes locked for another minute, the stranger gestured with a quick flick of his head. It indicated that he wanted me to join him.

  I moved down three barstools. The man’s voice was deep and resonant when he spoke.

  “I’m Marshall. I could use some company, and you looked like you were alone.”

  The name matched the visuals. “Daniel here. Yep, it’s just me—on my own. Are you a regular here?”

  “I like the place, but I’m not often here by myself. I got a little tired of only the dog for company. My usual companions are all out of town on work-related trips.”

  I wasn’t sure what Marshall meant about companions. They were relationships of some form. Beyond that, they might be friends, significant others, or even spouses. I knew that I was selfish when I decided to take the reins of the conversation. Blake would shake his head in disdain. I thought that maybe I could ask Marshall a few useful questions. Perhaps he could give me a new perspective on my issues.

  “How are you with relationships?”

  Marshall raised an eyebrow, and then he looked to his right and behind him before he turned back toward me. “Are you asking me that question?”

  I tried hard to appear nonchalant about the conversation. “Yep. If you don’t mind me pointing it out, it looks like you’ve had a fair amount of life experience like me. I might need some advice.”

  I caught Marshall’s interest. He was willing to play along. Something about me amused him.

  “I suppose that I do okay. I’ve got an awesome husband, and my best friend is the other companion who’s out of town.”

  He was gay, but he was firmly attached. “They come here with you?”

  “Yep. It’s a favorite haunt. We live only a few blocks away. Husband’s a schoolteacher, and my best buddy’s hard to miss.”

  “I don’t come here often.”

  My comment didn’t stop Marshall’s train of thought. “You’d remember him if you met him. He’s got long, black hair and goes by the name Billy.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s been at least five years since I was last here.”

  Marshall swallowed a mouthful of beer. “What brings you out tonight? Are you slumming through the neighborhood? Ten years ago, this was a rundown little establishment. Now, it’s a little on the upscale and expensive side.”

  I decided to lay it all out in front of Marshall like a poker hand. He struck me as a levelheaded man who had his life together. “I can’t get my ex out of my head. It feels like I’m still in high school or college when I obsess about him. It could be a crazy thought, but I thought maybe someone like you could help.”

  “Like me?”

  “A man who had success with his relationships in life. You brought up your companions at the beginning of the conversation. If you were lonely like me, you’d moan about the world’s evil tricks.”

  Marshall gazed into my eyes. “Speaking of random nastiness in the world, you don’t have a monopoly. I lost my first partner to AIDS.”

  “Damn. So you know what pain in here…” I pounded my chest, “…feels like.”

  “I do.”

  It was no wonder that Marshall had a husband and a best friend to fill his life with love. He not only had the good looks of a middle-aged movie star, but he also spoke with a smooth, low drama, flow.

  I sipped my drink before I met his steady gaze once again. Marshall winced when he brought up the first partner. I didn’t need to push any further into the scars of his past. I was there to ask about my future with Kenneth.

  I started with one of Blake’s favorite phrases. “It’s like this—a man broke my heart almost ten years ago.”

  “You’ve had plenty of time to patch it back up then.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Something happened?” Marshall raised a thick, bushy eyebrow.

  “He reappeared.”

  Marshall moved his head to the right and then back to the left. It was like he tried to see inside my skull to gather more information.

  “And that’s—a good thing?”

  “I thought it was. To shorten the story, we went on a date, and then we ended up at his place, and then I made the same mistake I made ten years ago.”

  “So you didn’t learn anything? You’re a slow learner. Is that what you want to tell me?”

  Marshall got right to the sledgehammer that Kenneth used to destroy my ego.

  I whispered, “Maybe not.”

  Marshall rubbed his whiskered chin. “So, what was this massive mistake that you repeated?”

  “I asked him to marry me.”

  I pulled back when Marshall snickered in response. He tried to hold it in, but it didn’t work. “Please—I’m sorry, but you asked him to marry you after one date, and I’m guessing that it was the afterglow of a roll in the hay. You had the gall to ask that kind of question while you both had a whole lot of baggage from ten years ago still slung over your shoulders.”

  “So, what you’re saying is I’m an idiot.”

  Marshall reached out and clamped his hand firmly on one of my shoulders. “Hey, buddy, no, I’m not saying that, but maybe you need to own up to doing something stupid. Did you scare him away forever?”

  “I don’t think so. I
might have one more chance. We discovered that we have too many mutual friends and business interests to avoid each other forever. Something has to settle out in the end.”

  “Then I do have a suggestion for you. I want to offer it because I know you’re not an idiot. There’s a lot of intelligence in your eyes, and you’re handsome as hell. You dress like you know your way around making a good first impression. Maybe you just need to shove the ego in a back pocket for a little while.”

  “Intelligence in my eyes?”

  Marshall grinned and showed off a perfect, gleaming white smile. “I’m a college professor. I know these things.”

  “And you think I need an ego check?”

  “It sounds to me like you unilaterally tried to take charge of the relationship—both times. You’re the lead hunter whacking through the brush with a machete, and you expect your man to follow. Do I have that right?”

  I thought about how many times I’d steered Kenneth toward professional events and vacation trips. I often had to do some work to convince him, but, in the end, he always said yes. At least he answered in the affirmative until he found himself staring at a ring.

  “Did you ever stop and think about—what’s his name?”

  “Kenneth.”

  “Did you ever wonder whether Kenneth wanted or even needed some time to stop and smell the flowers. Or maybe he spotted a parrot perched in the next tree and wanted to check it out. Marriage is a big decision, and it takes some people a lot of time to get there—a lot longer than one date and a sleepover.”

  Some of what Marshall had to say made sense, but not all of it. I hadn’t given him the worst bit of information yet. “He suggested that we see other people—both times.”

  “And your reaction?”

  “I took it as a desire to break up.”

  “And you disappeared?”

  “The first time I did.”