by J. L. Jarvis
Is Luke nuts? “Because. It’s like the lottery. You usually lose, but now and then, you get a small win. And you hear stories of people winning big, meeting their spouses online. Besides, how else can you meet people?”
He looked like he didn’t believe she was serious. “In real life? At your job. In the course of a day. Look around you.” He spread his hands out. “People.”
She peered at him. “That’s easy for you to say. I mean, look at you.”
He glanced down with embarrassed confusion then back up at her with his eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
She wasn’t about to feed his ego, but she felt backed into a corner. “You don’t strike me as the type that has to stay home eating ramen noodles for dinner—unless you want to.”
He smirked. “I live in the woods. Alone.”
She gave him an impatient stare. “Oh, c’mon. If you wanted to date—”
“Actually, I can’t remember ever going on a date with a stranger.” He seemed as though it were a sudden revelation.
“Which proves my point. You don’t have to. If you wanted companionship, you could walk into any bar and sit down. You wouldn’t last five minutes before some lovely lady joined you. Then you’d walk hand in hand into the sunset. Or parking lot.”
“And you don’t think you could do the same?”
She let out an unattractive snort.
Luke leaned his elbows on the table. “Have you ever tried it?”
She wrinkled her face in protest. “Why would I?”
“You haven’t. You think life emanates from your phone.” He looked so pleased with himself that she wanted to show him how wrong he was.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then prove it.” A smile bloomed on his face. “Tonight.”
“What?”
He nodded slowly, still smiling. “I’ll be your wingman.”
She leaned back, shaking her head. “No.”
He continued to nod, his smile broadening. “It’s happening.”
“Wait. I didn’t agree. And besides, I’ve got plans.”
“No, you don’t.” He didn’t even hesitate. He was so sure of it. “It’ll be good for you.”
“No, it won’t. And I’m not even looking for a relationship now.”
“But that’s when you find them, when you least expect it.”
She could not believe what he was proposing. “What’s in it for you? Don’t you have some fishing or bird-watching to do?”
“This isn’t so different. Besides, Eleanor would have wanted me to look after you.”
“When I was seven. But I’m grown up. I can take care of myself.”
He nodded, unconvinced. “I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock.”
Her jaw dropped. By the time she shook her head, he’d already reached into his pocket, dropped a ten on the table for the coffee, and left.
“But I… I still owe you for my pound of coffee.” She shut her eyes then looked out the window. Well, she couldn’t just let him judge her like that. Fine. If it took a little humiliation to prove her point, she would do it. She would put on her big-girl pants and man up.
Five
Luke got into his car and drove home, still wondering what had just happened. Had he really just made plans to go out with Chloe to prove she could meet someone without a dating app? He had never liked the idea of online dating, but this took the need to be right to a new level. It was the sort of thing he and his friends might do—challenge each other, or even bet on it, then live to regret it and laugh over beers. But he barely knew Chloe. What made him think this could turn out well? Chloe was his neighbor, not one of his friends. He had to live with her—well, not with her, just near her. As neighbors. That was all.
He reviewed the situation, analyzing it as though he were at work. Chloe was different. She made him think. And smile. She seemed wound up a bit tight for an artist, but it was endearing. Since he’d met her, he found himself wanting to see what she would be like if she felt more at ease, if she liked him—as a friend. Any other sort of relationship with a neighbor was asking for trouble. If things went south, he would have to face her at the mailbox, while taking out trash, or when he went jogging. She didn’t strike him as a jogger. She seemed like more of a hot-yoga type.
She seemed to have no idea how interesting and attractive she was. He’d only seen her in her worn jeans and T-shirts, but he was sure that if she let her blond hair down from that ponytail it seemed to live in, she could look really hot. As a friend. What was he doing—mentally letting down her hair in a purely platonic way? Sure. Friends did that. He grimaced.
Friends. Get back on track. They were going to be friends. The truth was, he could use a friend—a real, non-work-related, easy-to-be-with friend. So why was he laying the foundation for their friendship by guiding her social life? He’d as much as taken on the role of surrogate matchmaking grandmother. It was all starting to feel very weird. He had only himself to blame. He’d had more than a few inspired, even brilliant, ideas in his time. This wasn’t one of them. In fact, he would go out on a limb and call it plain stupid. He desperately hoped he was not going to regret this.
At nine o’clock sharp, Luke knocked on the door. For some reason that Chloe refused to admit, she was on her fifth outfit. She looked in the mirror and sighed. Well, this would have to do. She had on a white formfitting Angora sweater, black pants, and heels. She wasn’t going for sexy, but she hoped to achieve a quasi-presentable impression approaching attractiveness. She rolled her eyes. For whom? Some random guy trapped in his haircut from a decade ago who laughed while inhaling? Or maybe a guy with a file at the local precinct—Prints Charming.
She opened the door.
“You look nice.”
Don’t act so surprised, and for God’s sake, Chloe, do not do your Wallace and Gromit smile. “Thank you. You look nice too.” Really nice. So nice that if this were a date, I’d be looking forward to it. But it’s not.
Luke’s car was parked behind hers. “Do you mind if I drive?”
“No.” But only because I hate driving. However, that made it feel like a date. She frowned.
“Everything okay?”
Only then did she realize he’d been watching her. “Oh, yeah. I was just wondering if I left the coffeepot on.”
He stopped. “Do you want to go back and check?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Are you sure? We’re not on a schedule here.”
“No. It’s fine.” She resumed walking. He opened the car door for her. Wow, this non-date is already starting out better than any real one I’ve been on. She got in.
The first place they headed to was a hangout for locals. On the downside, they were locals. On the upside, they were locals. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, but what happened in one’s hometown stayed there forever. Chloe wanted to laugh. What did she think was going to happen, some wildly romantic encounter? With or without Luke sitting nearby and watching, nothing was going to happen. And that was the point of this whole exercise. She was not going to walk into a bar and meet the love of her life. That’s what dating apps were for.
Luke parked but left the car running and turned to her. “Two seats between us at all times. Aim for the corner for better sight lines. But remember, you don’t know me. If you need to be rescued, I’ll call your cell. You’ll pretend you have to leave, which you will, and I’ll be right behind you.”
“But how will you know if I need to be rescued?”
He looked at her patiently. “I’ll know.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. In fact, she could imagine him watching, amused, as she suffered. She could always just get up and leave, rescue phone call or not, or go the subtler route and climb out the bathroom window.
They exchanged cell numbers, then Luke said he would go in first and she should follow. As soon as he’d said it, he changed his mind. “On second thought, you go first.”
“Why?” She widened her eyes. “You d
on’t think I’ll come in?”
He didn’t deny it. “It’s better this way.” The parking lot was too dark for her to be certain, but she thought she detected a hint of a grin. “All right, Cinderella, it’s go time.”
She got out, took a few steps, and turned, and they nearly collided. “Let’s just go get a burger. Aren’t you hungry? I’m hungry.”
He looked at her with a cool glint of confident condescension. “You’re not scared, are you?”
“No!” She blew air through her lips. “Of course I’m not scared!” She was scared, but she wouldn’t let him know that. She was so far out of her comfort zone, she could barely recall what it felt like. The last time she’d been to a bar all alone was… well, never. How had she gotten herself into this situation? Oh yeah. The bet. Was it even a bet, though? They hadn’t decided on stakes. Oh great, so even if I survive, I’ll come out with nothing. No, it wasn’t a bet. It was more of a challenge. She hated competition unless it was with herself.
Chloe wrinkled her face as she drew close to the entrance. She could have been home in her comfy pants, reading a book. And who had decided the rules? Luke. He had insisted they give it three tries. Why not two? Or just one? Actually, she liked the way zero sounded, but no, three it was. And she had agreed to it.
The bar was packed. Chloe stood at the end of the bar. Luke walked in behind her and lingered nearby. A woman with calico hair joined him and struck up a conversation. After a few tries at getting the bartender’s attention, Chloe contemplated attempting doing semaphore signals with cocktail napkins, but the bartender finally appeared, and she ordered a glass of white wine. Luke was oblivious to her present torment as he chatted it up with his new lady friend with the crazy-quilt hair.
Chloe picked up her phone and mapped out the walking route to her house. That last walk up the mountain was going to be a killer. She rearranged the apps on her phone so the rideshare app was on the first page. Then she remembered that the rideshare company didn’t serve this area, so the app would be useless. She was being silly. Of course Luke would take her home if she asked him, but that would be admitting defeat. So she straightened up and decided to be tough, sip her wine, and enjoy watching Luke fend off his new lady friend’s overtures. The woman was very persistent. Luke’s eyes flicked toward Chloe, and she looked away, smiling.
“You look happy.”
She looked up at a guy who seemed to be looking at her. “Do I?”
The man got up from his barstool. “Would you like to sit down?” He looked pleasant enough—a steady, reliable sort, probably in his late twenties.
Her eyes darted to Luke. His calico cat was still purring beside him. He gave her a nod that looked very much like he wanted to say, “Duh! Do something.” So Chloe smiled and sat down. The guy offered to buy her a drink, but she lifted the one in her hand and smiled. “Thanks, but I’m good for now.”
He smoothed his hair flat to his forehead a couple of times, which must have been a habit, because it was shiny and pasted in place from the effort.
She couldn’t take the silence. “So, what do you do?”
He perked up. “I’m a manager.”
“Oh?” What was it with guys and occupational vagueness? First Luke “the analyst” and now this guy. What did he say his name was? Barry. Or was it Barney? Barry/Barney, the manager. Maybe she didn’t really need to know more. But it was too quiet, so she delved deeper. No one could accuse her of not making an effort.
Unlike Luke, Barry/Barney was very forthcoming. He was a retail manager. He went on to regale her with the many facets of his daily life—rotating inventory, checking time sheets, and looking for slackers. “You can’t trust people.”
Chloe tried to look interested, but her mind kept straying to the mystery series she could have been binge-watching on TV. She’d stayed up too late and fallen asleep in the middle of an episode, and she couldn’t wait to discover what happened next. Twenty minutes later, she had three strong theories and a guy beside her with tears in his eyes.
“Eight years and three kids. I came home from work, and they were gone.” He wadded his cocktail napkin and kneaded it between his thumb and fingers. “Do you know how much lawyers cost?”
“A lot?”
“Yes, the bastards.”
Chloe felt sorry for him. She hesitated then gave him a pat on the shoulder.
He took that as an invitation to hug. “Oh, I’m not much of a hugger.” She pressed her palm to his chest and, with a firm push, wriggled free.
While her companion took a swig of his drink, Chloe shot an insistent look over at Luke. It was meant to convey something along the lines of rescue me now, or I swear I’ll lunge over the bar at your throat.
He seemed to pick up on how things were going because he looked close to laughter as he looked down at his phone. Chloe’s cell rang. “Hello?”
“Say ‘Oh no!’ Look shocked.”
“Oh no!” She put on her best shocked face.
“Hang up and then say, ‘It’s the hospital. I’ve got to go.’”
Trying to appear truly distressed, she said, “Barry—”
“Barney.”
“It’s the hospital. I’ve got to go.” She didn’t wait for a reply. Luke was gone. At that point, she didn’t even care where he was. She just wanted out. As the door closed behind her, she didn’t have to look for him. She just followed the laughter.
“Come on, before he decides to follow you to the hospital to console you.” He took her elbow, and they ran to the car.
Chloe collapsed in the seat. “You’ve got a cruel streak. What took you so long?”
“I was in my own private purgatory.”
Chloe grinned. “Yeah, I saw.” She half sang her next words. “You and your lady friend.”
He looked sideways at her while he started the car.
As he pulled out of the parking lot and headed in the opposite direction of home, Chloe said, “I’m willing to concede that you’re right. I was able to meet a guy at a bar. So now we can go home.”
“Not a chance.”
Six
The next place was a skiers’ hangout at the foot of a nearby ski resort. The first place hadn’t worked out as planned, but a place full of skiers would have to have one or two interesting prospects for Chloe… he hoped.
Before they got out of the car, Chloe turned to Luke. “Change of procedure.”
He lifted an eyebrow. She had to be kidding. No, he could see that she wasn’t.
Chloe looked him in the eye. “You took way too long at the last place. This time, I want you within earshot so you can hear and feel my pain. And I want a safe word.”
A safe word. He tried not to shake from the laughter he was silently suppressing. “Okay. What?”
She pondered for a moment. “I don’t know. Uh… well, we’ll be in a bar, so… mahogany.”
Luke was still far too amused. “Mahogany. Got it.”
Inside, the bar was not nearly as crowded as the first one, and it was nicer. He’d planned it that way. Chloe would up her game, building her confidence as they upscaled their surroundings. So by the time they reached the last bar, he could prove his point—that she would have much better results meeting men in real life than on a phone app.
So what if it hadn’t gone well up until then. By the end of the evening, she would probably forget the first place, and his point would be made. The more thought he gave his scheme, the better he liked it. He hadn’t taken it too seriously at first, but the plan had some merit. He liked Chloe. He had liked Eleanor, too, but he didn’t want to see Chloe wind up like her aunt, with so much to offer and no one to receive it. Eleanor had always said she enjoyed her own company, but that was what he said when people queried him about his own choices. Of course, he had his own reasons for being alone. Eleanor had had hers, too, but she’d also confessed that sometimes she was lonely. That was one of the things they’d both had in common. They had understood each other and provided a friendship that was
dependable without being a burden. Eleanor had managed just fine on her own, but Luke still thought she would have been better off with some family in her life. They wouldn’t have needed to be close, but family would have given her some emotional support.
Chloe was young. She didn’t have to live her life alone. But as he considered her life, he realized how foolish he was being. She had to have plans for her life. She didn’t need him as her life coach. So why was he so determined to help her, assuming that was what he was doing? If not, then what am I doing? Chloe didn’t need him. She was clever and creative, with too much to offer for someone not to notice and appreciate her. After all, he had noticed. Maybe if things were different, he might have taken an interest in her. But he was all wrong for Chloe even if she was all right for him. Still, the least he could do was honor his friendship with Eleanor by helping her niece. She had been a good friend, and he was just paying it forward.
Yeah, you’re a friggin’ saint, Abbot.
They found seats at the bar and settled into a nearly perfect seating arrangement, with Luke at the end of the bar and Chloe around the corner to his left. She had already ordered a drink by the time he arrived and slid onto his stool. He exchanged some small talk with the bartender then assumed the well-practiced look of a random loner at a bar.
The bartender was a young guy who appeared barely old enough to be serving liquor, but he seemed smooth enough as he chatted with Chloe. She laughed at something he said, then he left to take care of someone at the opposite end of the bar. With perfect timing, a guy slipped into the empty seat between Chloe and Luke. Not only did he position himself so that his back was to Luke, but Luke had to move to avoid the guy’s elbow as he took his seat at the bar. Luke leaned over to get a better look at the guy’s face, but the man’s square jaw was in the way.
Luke knew his type. He’d gone to school with dozens like him—a prep school, participation-award type whose helicopter parents bought their son’s way into an Ivy League school. The guy undoubtedly played racquetball on weekends and had a place on Martha’s Vineyard—waterfront, silver-shingled, and walls papered with money. Luke had worked his ass off and borrowed his way through school, while this guy had probably sailed through playing beer pong and turning in papers from the frat house files.