by Geneva Lee
“Plans?”
Did he want a printed itinerary or was he calling bullshit on me? Because yeah, my hot date involved sitting by the pool, calling the girls for moral support, and digging into this Majestic Theatre project. It did not include wasting one more second of my life on him. “It was a long day.”
“I can tell.” His eyebrows knit together in concern that looked disconcertingly genuine. “Everything okay? You look tired.”
That was the last thing any girl wanted to hear. Of course I was tired, I had like decades of patriarchal male crap to move past, a corporate ladder looming overhead, and a starting gun that hadn’t gone off. In other words, I was an unpaid intern.
I started to tell him just that when he hit me with, “Actually, you look fantastic. I think catching you with your eyes closed tricked me.”
I clamped my mouth shut to keep the rant from spilling out. So here was the thing. Luka was bad news—I knew that. I’d also spent the day competing with Señor Douchebag and being disappointed in Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I was so not above preening over a compliment regardless of the source. Without my besties around to start my day with compliment showers, I’d been left wondering if I was overdressed at the office where people seemed almost surprised to see a woman in heels—as though I couldn’t dismantle the patriarchy in Jimmy Choos. Even secondhand ones.
“You know, I’ve been hoping to run into you again. It feels like destiny took a hand,” he continued, somehow managing to keep his eyes on my face.
If he’d known how far I’d gone to thwart destiny, he might truly believe that. “Really? Why?”
“I was a bit of a jerk the other day. I shouldn’t have laughed about the machine. That thing is screwy. But also because I meant what I said. We should hang out sometime. Catch up.”
Was Luka asking me on a date? “Maybe you need to check the ferry schedule, because that ship has sailed.”
“Not like that,” he said quickly before I could climb into my sufficiently cooled down car and drive away. “I was a kid when we dated, so were you. I’ve always wondered what you were up to since we moved out of the freshman dorm.”
He was presenting a compelling argument, and he’d softened me up with a compliment. Maybe I was wrong about him. I would hate it if someone assumed I was still the same person I was at nineteen. A lot had changed. Still, my focus needed to be on the internship. I couldn’t afford to divide my attention. “I’ve got to work tonight.”
“That’s cool. How about Friday?”
I hesitated just long enough to reveal my weekend was wide open. He’d know if I was lying, which led me to commit girl sin numero uno: agreeing when I wanted to say no. “Okay.”
“Here.” He grabbed my phone from my hand and began inputting his number. It felt like a violation somehow, but I was too shocked to stop him. “I’ll text you.”
“Great.” I managed a half-hearted goodbye before ducking into the safety of my mom’s Toyota. It took a second to adjust the radio and the AC. Luka waved as he pulled out in a BMW. A BMW? Maybe I did want to catch up with him.
“Nooo!” I banged my head on the steering wheel hoping to dislodge the number of terrible ideas that had passed through my brain today. First, I had flirted with Gavin, challenged Trevor, and now I’d agreed to go on a non-date with Luka. The axis of idiocy was complete. Not for the first time I considered how much easier the world would be if it was all women. The trouble was that I cared too much. I’d grown up with overly affectionate parents. I’d watched my best friends find the one. There was far too much proof that true love was real for me to ignore it. I wanted to, because I hated feeling like I was waiting around for some prince to knock at my door. In real life, all the good princes were taken. I just didn’t know how to make peace with being single and waiting for Mr. Right. I liked my life. I liked myself. That should be enough, but it clearly wasn’t because I’d just agreed to go out on a date with a guy that was a walking mobius strip of hormones. Maybe he wouldn’t text and I would stop driving to work and we’d both live happily ever after—without ever seeing one another again.
I let the fantasy unfold as I put the car into drive, just as Luka’s first text came through. Or maybe I’d have to slay the ex-boyfriend dragon first.
It was 2 AM in Scotland, and I didn’t care. Somehow I managed to dump the entire contents of my closet onto my bed while Face-timing with Jillian over the phone. I’d made a mess of my room, my life, and wrecked her chance to get enough sleep. Dipping my toe into the real world with an internship was proving a complete failure.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I huffed as I dug through a pile of skirts, looking for something professional that wasn’t too dressy for tomorrow. “Luka is a first class jerk and I know it. So what if he was nice to me today? That doesn’t mean I have to go on a date with him. He banged half the girls in our graduating class while we were dating.”
“Did he actually say date? Like did he say ‘can we go out on a date?’” Jillian yawned, her eyes bleary from the sleep I’d obviously woken her from.
“No. He said we would just go out as friends to catch up, but we all know what that means.”
Jillian blinked a few times before shaking her head in confusion. “What if he just wants to catch up?”
Clearly, she was going soft in her new committed relationship, especially if she couldn’t remember what “catch up” meant in ex-boyfriend speak. “Catching up is a clear sexual invitation.”
And I had RSVPed.
“How is that a sexual invitation?”
“Everyone knows that when a guy asks you out and you’ve already slept with him, even if he says it’s to catch up, he’s really saying that he wants to sleep with you.” I couldn’t believe I was actually explaining this to her.
“I must have missed that Cosmo article,” she said dryly. At least her sarcasm was awake.
In all fairness, Jillian hadn’t been one for serious relationships before she had met Liam. I could spot his head of messy, blond hair on the pillow next to her. A soft snoring came from the other side of the bed. It was just like a man to sleep through anything, even a best friend ranting from the other side of the world. “You’re making me feel crazy.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Jillian shook her head defiantly, as though I had threatened to take away her best friend card. “I’m just tired.”
“And I’m the bitch who woke you up in the middle of the night.” I really had lost my mind. Why on earth had I thought this couldn’t wait until morning? Then I remembered that when it was morning in Scotland, I would be asleep in Seattle.
“It’s no big deal,” she said with a shrug. “Being so far away is hard for all of us. I’m always here for you though, even when we’re not in the same country.”
“Or even the same continent,” I grumbled. “When are you coming home again?” I put on my best puppy dog eyes. If I had to lure my best friends back through shameless, guilt trips I would.
“I don’t know yet.” Jillian’s eyes darted off-camera, and I couldn’t help but think she was dodging the question. Now wasn’t the time to call her on that, not when I’d jostled her from a deep sleep next to a hot, Scottish man.
“What do I do? Do I ignore him? He’s already texted me, and he put his number in my phone, so I can’t pretend it’s the wrong number.”
Jillian perked up, obviously interested in this info. “He already texted?”
“Yeah. Don’t look so happy about it. Whose side are you on anyway?” I was not above reminding her of best friend proclamation number one: chicks before dicks.
“Here’s the thing,” Jillian began, “you said yourself, you’ve both changed. How do you know Luka hasn’t change for the better?”
“ Because he’s still breathing. Look, I’ve kissed a lot of frogs and none of them have turned out to be princes,” I reminded her.
“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t want him to treat you like you were still the same pe
rson. Maybe you need to give him a second chance. What do you have to lose?”
The things I had to lose were far too long to list during a single phone call. Right on top were my dignity and my self-respect. I kept that thought to myself. “What do I have to gain?”
“Maybe you’ll learn something,” Jillian suggested.
It was is if a lightbulb had gone off over her head. She was absolutely right. There was something I could get out of this. I could learn something from Luka. “Jillian, you’re a genius!”
“Tell me something I don’t know. But really why am I a genius?” she tacked on, her confusion not diminishing her sly grin.
Liam shifted in his sleep, rolling over to showcase his bare chest. I did my best to not stare at him. It felt a little weird ogling Jillian’s boyfriend, but it couldn’t be helped. It was more like going to a museum. I could admire a painting in all its glory and still respect that it belonged to someone else. Tearing my eyes away from him, I focused on her. “This date doesn’t have to be a total loss. Maybe I can find out from Luka exactly why he cheated on me.”
“Because he’s a first-class jerk?” she guessed. “You said that yourself.”
I’d been telling her that since we got on the phone. Of course, now she would get with the program. “No, there had to have been a reason that he cheated. We were pretty hot and heavy. He was totally getting everything he could possibly want. Why would he go hook up with another girl?”
“Because he’s a first-class jerk. But I repeat myself.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but think of it this way, it’s like a progress report at work. Every once in a while you need to review how far you’ve come. Going out with Luka will give me that chance.”
“How far are you going to take this? Are you going to go out with Trevor, too?”
I stuck my tongue out at her. It was a childish gesture, but one that was well-deserved. “Absolutely not!”
“You might be overthinking this.”
“Look, there is no need to evaluate my progress with Trevor. Not with him breathing down my neck at the office every day.” No, this was a unique opportunity. I just had to make her see that. “A night with Luka might not be fun exactly, but I guess being around him not only shows me where I was, but how far I’ve come. Maybe it will show me where I’m going wrong, too. One guy cheating is me making a poor choice. Two guys?”
“It’s not your fault if a guy cheats,” she interjected.
I ignored her and continued thinking out loud, pacing across the room. “Plus, free dinner. It’s a win-win. What do I have to lose?”
“Your dignity,” she mumbled.
I paused to glare at her. “Not likely.”
Suddenly there was a crashing noise followed by a loud, whirring noise. I whipped around to find Lillian’s cat jumping out of my underwear drawer with my vibrator in her mouth.
“What are you saying about losing your dignity?” Jillian began laughing hysterically, causing Liam to stir next to her. “How can a cat that tiny even pick up that size of vibrator?”
“You are not being helpful!” I darted towards the cat, but it narrowly escaped my grip. “Here kitty. Come here cat.”
The cat backed toward the door, uninterested in my demands.
“I hate you,” I added under my breath.
“Do you even know that cat’s name?” Jillian managed to ask between a fit of giggles. Liam was now fully awake and trying to catch up on what he had missed.
“What does that cat have in its mouth?” Liam asked in his heavy Scottish accent, wiping sleep from his eyes.
I really wanted to die. Meanwhile, Liam’s contribution had sent Jillian over the edge. She had fallen off the bed, leaving her phone propped on the nightstand. Liam was peering over the edge, but all I could see of Jillian were her feet in the air. I hit the end button on the chat and went after the cat. I really was going to have to learn its damn name. I wasn’t even sure if cats responded to their names. And what was her obsession with my vibrator? I had just managed to corner the damn thing when the door to the apartment opened.
Lillian was carrying about a million files. Her top knot had started to droop to the side and her dress suit was a wrinkled mess. She took a step inside and stopped, taking in the scene unfolding before her. Her unexpected entrance momentarily distracted me and the cat slipped through my fingers again.
“What is your cat’s name?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Olive,” she responded, looking torn as to whether or not to step in and help.
Olive? That was a delicious, Mediterranean snack not a tiny, furry beast from hell.
“What does she have…” she trailed away as realization dawned. She did an amazing job of masking the horror of discovering her cute, little kitten with a purple, vibrating phallus. “How on earth did she get that?”
Now wasn’t the time to tell her that her cat had an obsession with my sex toy. I was pretty certain it never was the time to tell your roommate something like that. I finally managed to wrestle it away. Lillian lifted the cat into her arms and nuzzled her in the most affectionate way I’d ever seen her act to a living being before. “Poor girl got fixed, now she wants to get laid. We understand.”
We understood? Did I look that desperate to get laid? The vibrator in my hand was probably a dead giveaway.
“Night!” I took off before the situation could get any more awkward. I stopped in the bathroom to give Mr. Dependable a quick wash. I wasn’t fixed like poor Olive, but this was still my best option. No wonder I hadn’t rejected Luka on the spot.
Maybe I didn’t need Mr. Dependable at all, because I was obviously screwed.
Chapter Seven
The week flew by in the way time passes when you’re dreading something—going to the dentist, a trip to the DMV. In this case, the cherry on top of a craptacular week was a date with Luka. Maybe life wasn’t as bad as I thought, but it wasn’t going swimmingly exactly. I’d spent the last couple of days trying to find the right approach to the Majestic Theatre presentation. What I’d wound up with was a whole lot of nothing. The always helpful Trevor had offered to give me a hand, but I told him that I’d been sticking to my make shift office , the cubicle walls providing a much-needed barrier from being seen. Maybe if no one knew how much I was struggling, they wouldn’t hold it against me. Plus, it meant I wasn’t running into Trevor at every turn. Or for that matter, Gavin and his beautiful girlfriend. I needed to focus on work, but as the hours ticked by on Friday afternoon and I couldn’t help but watch the clock. Unlike everyone else, my plans for the weekend weren’t something I was looking forward to. More and more of my fellow workers logged off early and headed out, ready to go climb mountains or kayak or whatever the hell else the outdoorsy types did on their time off. By 3 o’ clock I was dragging, struggling under the weight of my own failure to produce any results as well as the looming dread of my date. I grabbed my purse and decided it was time to turn things around.
George was busy talking with the deliveryman, so I waved at him on my way out the door. There were only a few people in line at Sound Coffee which gave me time to consider exactly how much caffeine I required. I noted that Danny wasn’t behind the counter. Thank heaven for small mercies.
I still haven’t decided on a drink before it was my turn. The friendly barista at the cash register looked a little less amiable as I stuttered out an order. I grabbed George his customary Americano and asked for a couple extra sugars, just the way he liked it. It was easier to keep him happy than to figure out where my ID card was every morning. Then I glanced off and ordered the first thing on the menu: a Coconut milk latte with extra shots. Whatever. I would try anything once. By the time, I got my order and headed out the door, the sky overhead had darkened in an ominous way. Despite the day being a muggy 80 degrees, clouds were rolling in and although Seattle rarely enjoyed a true thunderstorm, I’d bet money that it was going to rain this evening. Could a date be called on inclement weather?
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George was free when I got back to the office, and I handed him his Americano.
He took it with a suspicious frown on his face. “Most people need a coffee run on mid-Monday not mid-Friday.”
I pretended to take the cup back. “If you don’t want it…”
“I am not most people.” He snatched it back and began adjusting the lid. “What are your weekend plans? You look like you have a date with bad news? Balancing the checkbook?”
“If only I was just going to pay my bills.” I shook my head, wishing it was something as painless as that. “No, I got roped into having dinner with an old…friend.”
George raised an eyebrow. He saw right through that little fib.
“Okay, it’s an ex-boyfriend,” I confessed. “I didn’t know how to say no.”
“N-O,” he spelled it for me with a snap of his fingers.
“It’s a bit late now. He’s picking me up in four hours.
“Is it a date? “George asked, looking a little more interested.
“Absolutely not! He is on my do-not-date list.” I didn’t bother to add that every man that was breathing was on my do-not-date list at the moment.
“Then why are you going out with him?”
I leaned in and lowered my voice. Somehow I got the impression that George would understand. “I want to see why he cheated on me.”
“Oh honey, there’s only one reason a man cheats.” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a remarkable imitation of my mother.
“And what is that?” I took a tentative sip of my drink. It wasn’t bad, but I probably wouldn’t order it anymore. Some day I would find my perfect drink again. It seemed more likely than finding my perfect man, even with George’s insights.
“Because he’s a cheater. You can’t change a man that cheats. You can’t fix a man that cheats. And it’s never your fault.”
“I know that.” I began to study the Sound Coffee label as though it were a piece of fine art. Did I really know that? If I did, then there was no reason to go on this date. I could cancel. I could have canceled already, but I hadn’t.