The Fallback

by Dietz, Mariah

  This time I shrug, taking another drink. I’m great at my job, but saying so—especially to my boss’s son—seems beyond narcissistic. “What do you think of this place?” I ask, looking around. “It has a nice ambiance.”

  Levi’s attention remains on me. “Are you over him?”

  “Over who?” I meet his gaze. “The guy at the bar mitzvah? He wasn’t… I wasn’t…”

  A smile curls Levi’s lips, and then he bites that inner corner once again. He shakes his head. “Your ex. Gabe.”

  I blink several times, attempting to rearrange my thoughts that are clinging to the hope he’s asking me this because he’s still interested in me. “Yeah,” I tell him, nodding. I take a deep breath, shedding what’s left of my discomfort surrounding the subject. “What he did really hurt, but these past couple of months have taught me a lot. I think we’d become complacent, and I always thought that was just a normal progression of a relationship, you know? You become comfortable enough that you don’t have to try or work hard at things. Now, living with Felicity and Dan, I realize they’re always trying. They do little things for each other, and still play grab-ass when their kids aren’t looking. He still buys her flowers, and she still tells him she loves him a dozen times a day.

  “I think Gabe likely recognized this first, probably when he began having feelings for someone else. I don’t fault him for it; I just wish he’d ended things with me first.”

  “You’re being very diplomatic about this. Most people in your shoes would be wishing herpes on their ex.” He takes a drink, still watching my reactions.

  “At times, I’m angry with him. Angry that he hurt me, angry that his decision caused me to change so much in so little time.” I sigh. “And I’m mad that he betrayed my trust. I’m not great at trusting people, and I trusted him. The breakup has left me questioning things I didn’t before—and I’m angry about that.”

  He takes another drink. “You shouldn’t. Fuck him. If he wasn’t man enough to try harder or tell you what he was thinking, he deserves herpes.”

  I laugh. “Do you wish herpes on your ex?”

  Levi tilts his head with thought. “No. But I wish I did. She went on a business trip to England, and ‘fell in love’ with someone she works with. She swore it was over, and I believed her, but then it happened again, and again, and again,” he sighs. “But then she moved out, and I realized we were always spending time with others. We barely ever were alone, and it took her leaving for me to realize that was because we didn’t even like each other. We had nothing in common and barely could find anything to even talk about. I don’t know how we’d even ended up together, because we were essentially strangers.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t be. We never should have been together, let alone stayed together. She did me a favor.” A woman with a low-cut blouse walks past us, staring at Levi as she goes. It’s blatant and bold. I reach for my nearly emptied glass and finish it, waiting for Levi’s reaction. But he doesn’t even turn in her direction, even after she’s passed us and is still looking back, her neck craned.

  “I know we’re here on business, kind of, but you’re welcome to…” I can’t formulate the words to tell him he can go flirt with another woman, so I simply wave a hand in her direction.

  “Welcome to what?” He leans closer. The noise of the bar has increased as it’s gotten later.

  “You worked all day. I don’t want you to feel like you have to sacrifice your night, too.”

  “You almost kissed me a couple of weeks ago.” He pauses. “On the street.”

  “Actually, I almost let you kiss me.” I add the same pause. “On the street.”

  He smiles. “Is that your attempt at admitting you still have feelings for me?”

  “I never said I don’t—just that I shouldn’t. That we shouldn’t.”

  “Because of my mother?” His question lacks inflection.

  “That and my job. I love my job. I’ve worked there for nearly a decade, and if I ever want to move out of Felicity’s guest room, I’m going to need to continue having said job.”

  “So, your job is the concern?”

  That makes me sound so cold. So distant. I think of the greatest stories and quotes that have left impressions on me over the past near-decade of wedding planning about love conquering all and being the most influential and powerful source in lives. “Not just that…”

  He cocks his head. “What else?”

  “I know things are different and that being raised by my grandma likely stunted more than just my awesome sense of fashion, but I don’t know how to casually date, and while I’ve tried to convince myself I can and that it might even be a great thing to try, I know it’s not me. While I don’t consider myself the jealous type, I hate the idea of wondering who else you might be kissing or sleeping with or even sharing a connection with, and after everything with Gabe, I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

  “Are you asking me to sleep exclusively with you?”

  My cheeks radiate embarrassment, and I pray the darkened bar helps conceal the fact as I shake my head. “That’s not what I said.”

  The bartender appears, Levi’s credit card in hand.

  Levi shakes his head. “Start a tab for us.”

  I hate that my failed relationship has me questioning things like my appearance and others’ intentions, but I can’t keep ignoring the niggling question of why we’re here drinking when he owns a bar just a short drive away where alcohol would be free and others would know who he was.

  With a single nod, the bartender disappears. Levi shifts beside me, leaning on the bar so his chest is open to me.

  “I thought we were checking out the four spots over here.”

  He shrugs. “Quite frankly, checking out these other bars was just an excuse to spend some time with you. I know more about the inner workings of bars and clubs than I’ll ever need to. I already know the design and flavor I’ll be using.”

  I shake my head. “Then why’d you hire Chelsea?”

  “Because if I didn’t, my mother would be a pain in my ass.”

  I clear my throat and take another gulp of my drink. “By the way, how was your date?”

  He draws his chin back. “My date?”

  “With Chelsea.”

  “I told you that wasn’t a date.”

  My lungs expand with relief. “Does she know that?”

  He swallows. “All we discussed was business.”

  Frustration churns in my stomach. He has to be aware of how much she likes him. It wasn’t as though she was discreet. “So you’re hiring her?”

  “You said I need her.”

  “You claimed you didn’t need either of us.”

  He lifts another shoulder with a casual wave. “Sometimes, I forget that though my mother can be a cold-hearted bitch, she likes to feel needed.”

  “But she’s not working with you.”

  Levi’s lips tip into a smile that accentuates the fullness of his bottom lip. “I planned to tell her I’d make things work when she told me she couldn’t, but she insisted I meet you. I never thought that decision was going to kick me in the ass.”

  His admission has me shaking my head. “So, you’re paying me to ‘help’ you so you can spend time with me? You don’t care about my professional skills at all?”

  He tips his head, looking at me carefully. “I feel like I just entered land mine territory…”

  “No, I…” I reach for my glass and empty half of it in one drink. I don’t know what I’m feeling or how to vocalize it. I knew I wasn’t bringing much to this deal, but I’ve spent so many hours researching and talking with other professionals so I could offer something.

  “Your mom would kill me if she found out there was anything going on between us. My office would be a bloodbath. Then she’d fire me.”

  “Don’t be dramatic. She can’t fire you if you’re dead.”

  I glare at him, and he laugh
s.

  “We should sleep together. It might change your mind.”

  I roll my eyes. “You should just keep saying things like that. It helps me to like you less.”

  “What makes you like me more? I’ve been told my best feature is my eyes.” He lifts his eyebrows several times then purses his lips like a fish and goes cross-eyed. My laugh is instant and loud and seemingly fuels Levi’s silly side as he begins making the most ridiculous expressions, sticking out his tongue and contorting his face.

  “Keep going. This is all helping to make me forget.”

  He stops. “Forget what?”

  My cheeks flush as I shake my head. “Forget to like you,” I lie. It’s the constant memory of our kiss that keeps me up late into the night when reality and consciousness aren’t able to apply reason.

  “It must be really hard to forget. Want me to send you some selfies so you can constantly remind yourself?” He pulls out his phone and proceeds to take a couple of pictures of his ridiculous expressions, making me chuckle. Then his arm wraps around my shoulder and he pulls me against his chest. His other arm is extended, holding the phone at a distance with us framed in the center.

  I stare at his image on the phone while feeling his body against mine and struggle to breathe.

  “Stop being difficult and smile.”

  I lean closer to him so my entire face is in the picture and smile. “They’re wrong,” I tell him. “Your eyes aren’t people’s favorite attribute because they’re so attractive—it’s because they say more than you’re willing to.”

  He lowers his phone and looks at me. “I’d say the same about you.”

  Because he’s right, and I can’t dispute it, I finish my drink. “I question if your interest in me stems from the challenge. Because I’ve told you we can’t be together.”

  Levi leans closer to me, the scent of beer from his drink filling my nose. “You’re misreading everything if that’s what you think.” He stares at me, his gaze so intense it again feels like a physical weight.

  “I’m kind of a mess,” I admit, swallowing the rest of my words and forcing myself to lay it all out for him. “Gabe and I were friends for three years before we began dating. I kind of suck at trusting people.”

  “That’s another thing we have in common.” He takes another drink, his sips small.

  I laugh. “You say that like it’s a good thing. Two people who don’t know how to trust sounds like a disaster.”

  “Most people are fucked up and don’t know how to trust—we’re just honest about it.”

  “Would you like another?” the bartender asks, grabbing my empty glass. I nod, knowing he’ll go away faster.

  “I’m a workaholic,” I tell Levi when the bartender turns his attention to someone else. “I’m also ridiculously independent, and as a fun reminder, I currently reside in my best friend’s guest room.”

  Levi lifts a brow. “Is this your attempt to scare me?”

  “This is me being honest.”

  He reaches for his glass, taking a longer pull before dropping it with a thud against the polished counter. “I’m also a workaholic. I hate most people, and I talk during movies.”

  I gape. “You talk through movies?”

  He laughs. “This is what I’m talking about. Everyone has their own share of issues. All that matters is if you can accept the other person’s.”

  The bartender hands me a filled glass, and I take another drink to fill my confidence. “Why didn’t you kiss me the other day? In the parking lot.”

  “Because you hesitated. I’d leaned forward, and you didn’t.”

  “I did!”

  His lips snake into a smile as he shakes his head. “You didn’t.”

  “We should be friends,” I tell him, gripping my glass in an attempt to ground myself and not get lost as I stare into his eyes, seeing a million possibilities that I want to make promises and vows upon.

  “Probably.” Levi leans closer. He raises a hand, gripping the back of my neck with the pads of his fingers so that the palm of his hand fits against my jaw.

  I hold my breath, waiting for him to kiss me. Praying it will be as great as the first kiss.

  “Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?” The same woman who had eye-stalked Levi stands beside us, her cleavage and wide smile on display.

  Levi shakes his head and moves so he’s standing even closer to me.

  The woman looks me over once, then gives a contrived smile before taking a couple of steps back.

  A grin tugs at Levi’s lips. I wonder how apparent my jealousy and disappointment is. “Are you ready to go to the next bar?”

  I glance at the other woman a final time, discovering her talking to another man, her eyes still on Levi. “She’s basically having sex with you with her eyes.”

  Levi leans forward, his breath against my ear. My heart stutters and then takes off at a sprint. He invades my senses. His cologne is a drug as I glance at his shoulder in front of me, seeing the edges of his tattoos peeking through the neckline. “I only see you,” he says.

  I’m a puddle. I can’t recall why I’m not supposed to like him or why he shouldn’t be flirting with me or if anything has a right or wrong answer.

  “Let’s go to the next stop,” he says, sliding his unfinished drink back toward the bar.

  31

  I’m relieved to find Felicity awake when I get home. Having to creep into her and Dan’s bedroom seems like an invasion of privacy that would likely have them both reconsidering my staying with them, but I have no doubts I would have so I could talk to her tonight.

  “How was it?” she asks, setting down a cookbook. My best friend didn’t know how to boil water before she got married, and now she reads cookbooks in her free time.

  “Tell me not to like him. Tell me he is an atomic bomb. The atomic bomb. Tell me to be smart and remain focused. Tell me I’m being stupid.”

  She shakes her head, blinking away her confusion. “What happened?”

  “I don’t even know. He’s flirting with me. I know he’s flirting with me, but then when I flirt back, he changes the subject. Twice we nearly kissed, and he did nothing. I am so confused by this stupid man that it’s driving me to the brink of sanity.” I dig my fingers into my hair. “I seriously don’t even know which way is up right now.”

  “You almost kissed? Why didn’t you tell me? You are breaking so many best friend codes right now. Where? When?”

  “It didn’t happen!” I cry. “I’m nearly thirty. I’m successful…” I pause. “Kind of. I was before I lost my house and dignity,” I joke, smiling to ensure Felicity doesn’t start on a twenty-minute speech about my self-worth. “He’s like a flame, and I’m the damn moth. I can’t stop circling him and getting closer and closer, and you know if I do, all that’s going to happen is I’m going to end up getting burned.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. We were talking, and this woman walked by us who was practically eye-fucking him, and when I gave him the green light to go flirt with her, he got like an inch away from me and told me he only sees me. What does that even mean?”

  Felicity’s eyes grow big. “And then you almost kissed?”

  “No!” I cry. “That was before, after that happened, he suggested we go to the next bar!”

  “What?”

  “I know!” I work to keep my voice quiet, appreciating that my best friend understands exactly how confusing this situation is. “And then everything became professional again, and it was back to work.” I brush my hands together.

  “He’s playing games with you.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know that he is. Maybe he’s just a player. Maybe he’s just expecting me to fall at his feet. Maybe he thinks sexual tension is foreplay.”

  Felicity leans back on her heels, her lips curling with a smile.

  “What?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “Why are you smiling like that?”

 
“Like what?”

  “Like you have some stupid secret you won’t tell me.”

  She laughs. “He’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”

  I throw my head back. “I feel like I’m spinning in circles right now. I think I just need to take a couple days away from him. I’ve been working with him a lot this week, and maybe a few days of separation will help me see things more clearly.”

  “I’m pretty sure they say distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

  I frown. “You’re not helping. Go to bed.”

  Felicity laughs. “If he wasn’t Catherine’s son, would you be struggling this much?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “You went to the baseball game with him.”

  “But I told him that wasn’t a date.”

  “But then you kissed him.”

  “I’m scared,” I admit.

  “But are you afraid because Catherine might find out or because you might get hurt again?”

  “Both.”

  “You have to make up your mind and just go steadfast.”

  “That’s, like, the worst advice ever.”

  She lifts a shoulder. “That’s all I’ve got tonight.”

  I sigh and follow her up the stairs. “I was going to email that woman back about the art class. Are you interested in going?”

  “I can’t this week. I have too much going on. Next week we can try something though.”

  “I’m going to get up early and go do some yoga tomorrow, if you’re interested.”

  “Are you?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I know it probably sounds silly, but being around all that positive energy made me feel invigorated, and I need some of that right now.”

  “My muscles haven’t stopped hurting from the last time we went.”

  I laugh. “I still feel it in my thighs when I sit down,” I admit.

  “I’m glad you liked it though. See, this blog of yours is really helping.”

  “It is.”

  At the top of the stairs, Felicity hugs me. It’s her automatic response and one that helps to center me because there are so few things in life that are consistent and reliable, and yet this proves they exist.