Like You Read About

by Mela Remington

  “Flirting?!?” Kaelyn schreeched, “You didn’t mention anything about flirting yesterday. Why do you have to keep information from me? How can I plan your battle strategy if you withhold important data from me?”

  “Keep your voice down, it wasn’t actual flirting. I made a stupid movie quote, he mentioned stealing my candy, I blushed, blah blah blah,” Cora nodded her head decisively and waived her hand dismissively. “See, it was nothing.”

  “Candy stealing is definitely flirting, and he was whistling as he walked past my cube towards the elevator.” Kaelyn dug in to her double cheeseburger, doused with ketchup and mayo and bacon, seriously, where did she put it all?

  “I’m going to Norwalk and I’m going to discuss accounting best practices and audits and all that fascinating stuff. Then I’m going to wander back to my room, eat a Caesar salad and watch tv while I wait to drop off to sleep. I have no intention to even think about what’s his name, maybe I’ll meet a nameless, faceless accountant and hook up for a one night stand, you know how wild bean counters can be.” Ripping of a bite of toast, she started chewing, hopefully putting an end to this train of thought.

  “A. Do sexy accountants actually exist? 2. You will not fuck a stranger. You and I both know that, and let the transcript indicate the truth to which you will not admit, that you will, most certainly, spend almost all of your evenings thinking of Dan the man, likely having a yellow pages moment or two even.” Kaelyn was feeling smug, she knew Cora.

  “Whatever, your ordering doesn’t even make any sense and your data is junk, so you can’t even make a weak case, and KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN, other people from work eat here.” Taking the last bite of egg on her plate, Cora pulls out a twenty and leaves it on the table. “I need to go. I want to beat traffic and I want to make sure I get my king bed room with the whirlpool tub. I love you but you’re crazy, go home. Play with your toddlers, put them to bed, fuck your husband’s brains out and don’t give me another thought until I get back, and that includes picking out my china pattern, I mean it. Wait, yellow pages moment, what the hell does that even mean?”

  “You know, let your fingers do the walking,” Kaelyn said with a brow waggle.

  Rolling her eyes, she gave a huff, walked out of the diner, and headed to the parking lot.

  As she climbed into her Beetle, she banged the door shut a little harder than she probably needed to; she plugged in her iPod and cranked up the tunes. She had at least three hours ahead of her, even more if she hit traffic; she wanted her own tunes to listen to while she battled the other metal beasts on the road. She sang out loud; and every flirty, sappy love song that came up made her think of Daniel, clearly she had no self-control when it came to marshaling her wayward mind away from him.

  Pulling in to the DoubleTree she decided to splurge and valet park. She grabbed her suitcase, her laptop tote, and her garment bag; she didn’t really need to wear a suit, but she always liked to make a good first impression on day one of these things. She had no intention of leaving Boston Pharma but you never knew when there was a headhunter in the crowd.

  She not only got her king bed with whirlpool tub but it was a corner room; how she scored it she had no idea, but she thanked the hotel gods for her good fortune. Rejoicing in the fact that she was far away from the elevator, she splurged on the porter service to deliver her bags while she registered at the conference’s welcome desk and took the lay of the land.

  Everything seemed typical, she stopped in the bar, and had a diet soda with some colleagues she’d met at conferences and training session in the area. It was nice to catch up and talk to people who actually got her accounting humor, okay, so maybe it being accounting and not actually humorous to anyone but them they still laughed. At six-thirty p.m., she excused herself and wandered up to her room. She had laughed and relaxed with a group of people without feeling completely self-conscious for a change.

  After unpacking her bags, she may only be there for four days but she likes to feel at home wherever she was, she ran a hot bath, threw in some of the foaming bath salts she’d brought from home, some candles and put on a bath time playlist. After soaking until she resembled a prune, she wrapped herself in the comfy plush terry robe, called for room service for salad and some strawberry sorbet as a treat, and settled in.

  While waiting for room service she pulled out her cute pink laptop, she refused to carry a blackberry and plugged it in to the hotel’s network. After making sure there were no work crises, she responded to some other non-critical items. Then she opened her personal email account, shesbythenumbers@netmail.com, she thought it was a witty email address, answered some emails from a college friend, deleted some stuff that was clearly SPAM, and then there was her standard weekly email from Date4You.com, a dating service she’d created a profile on years ago. After her disastrous string of dates with men who had fat girl fetishes and only wanted to get laid, she’d stopped opening her weekly digest of possible candidates and had turned off her profile from public viewing, but she’d never deleted it, she didn’t know why but felt like that final step was admitting failure.

  What harm would it do to read the digest? She knew she’d never have the balls to ask Daniel for coffee, let alone a real date, and forget letting him see her naked, she was slimmer, but she had stretch marks and some parts sagged more than she liked, they always would and someone special might get to see her in flagrante delecto, but not any time soon.

  Okay, deep breath, move the arrow, click and open. Then close the email, get up, pace around the room, sign off on the room service ticket, chug down a glass of wine, points be damned, sit back down in front of the laptop and click on the email again.

  To: shesbythenumbers@netmail.com

  From: matches@Dates4You.com

  Date: Sunday, January 6, 2008 12:01 a.m.

  Subject: weekly digest of potential matches

  Dear She’s By The Numbers,

  Here is a listing of men we think would be a great match for you. Our site has had thousands of successful matches, many of which have turned into long-term relationships and marriages. You could be next!

  Gregg: 45, divorced, lawyer, looking for a casual relationship

  Daniel: 38, single, works in IT, looking to start a new phase in life, something with potential

  James: 27, no response, construction worker, looking for good time

  The email listed seven other people but she was transfixed on the second person on the list. It couldn’t be, could it? She wouldn’t know if she didn’t click the link, for now it held potential, possibility, a sweet little sunny kitchen in a bungalow. Clicking on it could show her some other IT Daniel, anyone but who she wanted, and what if what he wanted didn’t match her list? And could he deal with her own personal albatross?

  It was too soon to think about the last part, but she couldn’t not hit the link, right? God, she wished Kaelyn were here, she’d know what to do. What time is it? Checking her cell phone she saw it was just nine, she needed Kaelyn, too bad if she was busy rocking Tommy’s world, she needed her more than he did. She shot off a quick text and then sat and waited while she tried to choke down her salad.

  When the phone rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  With no preamble or greeting Cora whooshed out a statement in one breath, “Do you believe in fate, kismet, karma, good things come to those who wait, the meek shall inherit the earth, that kinda shit?”

  “Slow down,” Kaelyn yawned, “what the hell are you talking about, did you fuck a boring accountant who you now have decided is your bashert?”

  “No, this is way bigger than a one off bean counter fuck, and bashert?” Cora rolled her eyes, really Kaelyn could be so dense sometimes. “I opened my Dates4You match digest tonight. I was bored and feeling lonely and thought I’d see what was swimming in the pond. Out of the ten, nine were duds, but there was one, his name is Daniel and he works in IT and lives in the Boston area.”

  A pregnant pause hung heavy while she waited for Kaelyn to
respond.

  “Well, what do you think, Kaelyn?”

  “Is it him? Did you read his profile?” She could hear Kaelyn getting out of bed, shushing her husband and starting to walk around.

  “No, of course not, I can’t click on it, what if it is him?” It was almost a whisper, a twinge of fear in Cora’s voice.

  “Oh for fuck's sake Cora, sit down and click the link, we’ll walk through this together. Why can’t you do this shit while we’re in the office and I’m not all sex drunk and tired? Bashert is soul mate, it was in a book I read, I’m just trying out new words, you’re not the only smart one, Cora.” Kaelyn sighed deeply as she plopped down in a chair.

  “You know the answer to the why, and as for sex drunk for a couple with two kids you and Tommy still hump like bunnies, when are you not sex drunk?”

  “True, point for Cora; now click the damn link.”

  Positioning the cursor and closing her eyes Cora clicked the link while she held her breath.

  “Well, is it him?” Kaelyn asks, and Cora can just see her making the move it along hand motions.

  “I don’t know, my eyes are closed,” she stammers cringingly.

  “Cora Erin O’Malley, open your damn eyes and read the friggen profile, why do you always borrow trouble and worry?”

  Slowly Cora peeled her eyelids up and looked, and gasped and looked a little closer.

  Hopping out of her chair, she does a stunningly accurate interpretation of the Snoopy Happy Dance, “It’s him, it’s him, it’s him!” She plopped in the office chair at the hotel desk and spun until she was dizzy.

  She then read off all the particulars to Kaelyn and a strategy was discussed. As they were hanging up Kaelyn said, “Okay, draft your email and send it to me, we’ll work on it until it’s perfect and then you can send it.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to respond to his ad, Kaelyn,” Cora said in a matter of fact tone, which she thought broached, no retort. Oh how wrong she was.

  “Are you out of your mind, Cora? This is what you’ve been waiting for, you know he’s free, and he has an ad so he isn’t opposed to a woman making the first move, why wouldn’t you respond?” Exasperation was evident in Kaelyn’s tone.

  “He knew me when I was fat, he doesn’t want to go out with me or he would have already asked,” she sighed, “it just makes me happy to know no one else is currently tapping that.”

  “I’m going to bed, when you get to the office on Monday we are booking the small conference room for lunch where I will proceed to beat some sense into you.”

  Cora snapped her phone closed and read and re-read Daniel’s profile.

  Two of a Kind is Better Than A Full House:

  What does a person say in these types of things, I like long walks on the beach and piña coladas? Oh wait, no that’s a crappy 70s song. What am I looking for? I’m looking for someone to spend time with, someone who *gets* me, someone who I can be myself with, no filters. I’m a great brother and a great friend, and a decent son. I get along with animals and help old ladies cross the streets. Now that sounds like I’m bucking for Eagle Scout, and I never actually made it past Webelos.

  I’m laid back, a typical New England sports fan. I work in IT for a mid-sized company.

  I’m just open to what life brings. I go with the flow. I want to get to know someone, and this is probably no better or worse a venue than a bar or some daughter of a friend of my mom’s from church or her book club. Since A. I’m not really a churchgoer, and B. unless it’s a technical manual I probably haven’t read it, this should work just as well. I work hard. I love to travel and I’m looking for someone to share the road with. So if you’re interested here are some icebreaker questions. (Apparently, Dates4You is nice enough to provide me a sample list so I don’t have to actually think about this.)

  1. Glass half-full or half empty?

  2. Road less travelled or well-worn path?

  3. Life of the party or wallflower?

  4. What’s your idea for a perfect weekend?

  Okay, that’s all I’ve got, so this is Dan, the IT man, signing off and hoping to hear from someone who is open to possibilities and isn’t afraid to take a risk.

  “I could do this, couldn’t I?” she said to the empty room. “Yes because he’s going to want to have a happily ever after with a crazy accountant who talks to herself.”

  Slipping off her robe, she slips on her pretty new nightie, after losing the weight wearing pretty underthings just gave her a sense of confidence. She put her laptop on the bedside table with Daniel’s profile open; went into her luggage and found the leopard print pouch, who needed fingers when you had technology available…right? She decided to spend some quality time with her battery-operated boyfriend while fantasizing about Daniel being her real boyfriend. It’s not that this would be the first time, as he had been serious fodder for her personal spank bank for two years, but now she had a picture and she knew he was single and ready to mingle. She imagined herself in a mission style king size bed, in a classic bungalow, burning up the sheets with the quiet, handsome bearded fantasy man from IT.

  She drifted off to sleep, full of endorphins and serotonin and dreams of what could be if she were just brave enough to take the leap.

  Chapter 4

  The conference finished as expected, she learned some new stuff, made some new contacts and drank a slew of apple martinis on her expense account. And every night she went to bed the same way as the first.

  Kaelyn texted her every day, since Cora was avoiding her calls, it was amazing how many ways a person could be called a coward.

  During the drive home on Sunday, she decided she’d go for it and started to draft the response in her head. Listening to her romance mix put her in the mindset to just grab life, for now, maybe Dan later, by the balls and go for it.

  To: DantheITman@netmail.com

  From: shesbythenumbers@netmail.com

  Date: January 14, 2008, 2:00 a.m.

  Subject: Dates4You Response

  Daniel,

  I want to start out by saying I’m not a crazy stalker, but it’s me, Cora from accounting, and if that freaks you out you can stop reading now and delete this and there will be no hard feelings, but nothing ventured nothing gained.

  I’ll answer your questions first:

  Glass half-full or empty: depends on what’s in the glass ;-) but to be serious, I do try to be optimistic although it doesn’t always come easy to me.

  The road less travelled or the well-worn path: Always the road less travelled, my favorite part of going anywhere is taking the long way, finding little out of the way shops and restaurants and meeting locals. Okay, I will admit that I’m a Disney nut, so I do some wearing out of that path every couple of years and I’m a sucker for a Broadway musical and have friends who live in NYC so I head there a few times a year.

  Life of the party or wallflower: I’m definitely the wallflower; I’m a big time geek girl and always feel a little socially awkward, have ever since high school. I have a group of friends who are my self grown family, with them I let my hair down. Kaelyn from the office is part of that group and I don’t know where I’d be without that little pixie some days.

  Your perfect weekend: Well, I think having an expectation of perfection can set you up for feelings of failure, but a weekend that would rank pretty highly for me would include a nice meal on Friday and maybe drinks or trivia with some friends, or some live music if anything good is in the area. Saturday would include a bike ride (although I don’t actually own a bike), a drive to nowhere stopping at the littlest hole in the wall that you know will have the world’s best pot roast. Sunday would be sleeping late, reading the paper in bed, cooking breakfast together, and then me making a delicious traditional Sunday dinner. Relaxing and reading while whoever I’m sharing my weekend with does their thing, watching the Pats, the Red Sox, or puttering around the house.

  I know the work thing can be awkward but I am interested in getting to know you better, seei
ng if we have anything in common. If nothing comes of it then I’ve made another friend and that’s never a bad thing, right?

  I’ve been single for a long time, only had one serious long-term relationship. I’m looking for something with potential as well, I don’t want to go into anything with preconceived notions or a plan, but like you say in your ad I’m open to possibilities.

  Isn’t that a wonderful word, possibility, the beginning, anything could happen, the future isn’t written.

  Okay, I’ll stop babbling now. Like I said earlier, if this isn’t something you’re interested in for whatever the reason then no harm, no foul.

  Be well,

  Cora

  p.s. I really do like the beard

  She edited and revised and when she got home, she typed it all out and emailed it to Kaelyn. Twenty minutes later, her cell rang, it was Kaelyn, “I love it, we’ll tweak a little more tomorrow, but you need to do this, you have to take the leap.”

  “I know, I know, and I’m going to, but I need to sleep on it, for a couple of days. I know I sound all breezy and casual, but I think rejection could be really, REALLY tough for me, Kaelyn.” She sighed as she plopped into her chair and a half and picked up her e-reader. “I’m going to walk away from this for now and read a book, wallow in someone else’s fantastic romantic life.”

  “Okay, later kiddo, but we are doing this, YOU are doing this. He spent a lot of time smiling at you during the meeting, and that isn’t the first time I’ve caught him looking at you, Cora. I think there might be something there. Just breathe and go read some of that soft-core porn you call literature and stop stressing. I mean it.” With that, the line went dead.