“Because they’re all so hot?” Sophie questions.
She pulls a face. “Because they’re all so arrogant. Professional sportsmen have women throwing themselves at them all the time. I’ve got zero interest in competing with them.”
“Oh, look. Your new BFF is here, Jas.” Sophie elbows her boyfriend in the arm.
I turn to see who this new BFF of Jason’s is, only to come face to face with Alex. Again.
Seriously? What is it with this guy? If he’s not in the room with me, he’s being talked about. It’s like he’s back here in the city for the sole purpose of infiltrating my world so he can torment me. And I tell you, if that’s his plan, he’d succeeding.
I watch as he greets everyone in the group—hugs for Erin and Sophie, a fist bump for Jas—until he gets to me. He does a formal head bow and says, “Darcy,” a small smile on his lips. His tone is wry but has that hint of amusement he always seems to add that makes me twist my mouth in frustration.
Oh, he so enjoys tormenting me.
“Alex,” I reply, ramping up the frost factor. There’s no hint of amusement in my voice, thank you very much, and I definitely do not give him a smile.
I feel my friends’ eyes on me, so I toss my hair and plaster on a breezy smile as I announce, “Did you know that Alex is going to be the first-ever exhibitor at Larissa’s new gallery?”
Alex narrows his gaze. “So, that’s all decided, is it?”
I feel a flicker of hope. “Unless you decided to back out?” I know I’m dicing with death here. Larissa’s got her heart set on Alex, but if I tell her he’s the one who backed out, well, then there’d be nothing I could do about it. I hold my breath.
One of his irritating smiles teases at the edges of his mouth. “And give up the chance to work with you, Darcy?” He looks up at my friends and says, “I’m excited about being Larissa’s first exhibitor, and I’m sure Darcy and I will make a great team.” He slides his eyes to mine. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together. A lot of time.”
I throw him daggers as I hold my less than genuine smile in place. He thinks he’s so smart, tormenting me like this. Well, he’s not. He’s a jerk and . . . and . . . oh! He makes my blood boil.
“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Jason says as he surveys us both. “I’ve always had the distinct sense you two don’t exactly get on.”
“Us?” I say with a forced laugh. “Oh, it’ll be fine. I’m a total professional. I can work with anyone.”
“Even me?” Alex asks.
I lick my lips and smooth my hair back. “Even you. In fact, as we discussed, I would like to come over to your apartment to look through your catalog of photos, please. We need to move on this project quick smart, you know.”
Quick smart? What am I, a P.E. teacher from the ’60s now?
Alex’s lips lift into a fresh whisper of a smile. “I’d be more than happy to show you my work. Does Sunday suit?”
I extend my hand. “Absolutely. Sunday suits perfectly.”
He looks at my hand questioningly for a beat before he takes it in his, and we shake.
I flick my eyes between my friends’ faces, smiling pleasantly. “You’ll all have to come to the opening. I’m sure Alex and I will put together a wonderful exhibition.”
There’s a general murmur of “yes” and “we’d love to” among them.
There. That shows them how professional I can be. How I can push my own personal feelings about Alex aside for the common good. (Well, to keep Larissa happy, so it’s really more for my good. Happy Larissa, happy assistant, remember?) Alex might not be my favorite person, but I can still work with him and be perfectly civil.
“Alex, I’m really happy for you. This is such exciting news,” Sophie says, giving her cousin a hug. “Mom said you haven’t exhibited for ages.”
Alex lets out a puff of air. “New leaf, I guess.”
New leaf? What is he talking about? He’s a barista who’s getting a first big break thanks to Larissa Monroe. That’s not a new leaf; that’s a dream come true.
“Well, I think it’s awesome, man,” Jason says, slapping Alex on his back.
“How about some drinks?” Sophie offers, and we place our orders with the barmaid.
“When is Seth due to get here?”
“I told him eight.” I glance at my watch. 7:45. “Only fifteen minutes to settle my nerves.”
“Have some wine,” Erin suggests.
“He’s got to be better than the guys Sophie chose before she saw the light and realized she was in love with me.” Jason slips an arm around Sophie’s shoulders. “Remember? One guy wanted to fatten her up, and another thought he was a merman.”
“A merman?” Alex says with a chortle.
“He didn’t think he was a merman,” Sophie corrects. “He wanted to be one.”
“The difference being what, exactly?” Jason asks.
“I’m not sure,” Sophie replies, and they share one of their loved-up smiles.
“Can you all please back the bus up a block or ten for me here?” Alex says. “Why are you vetting some poor guy?”
As my friends explain the No More Bad Dates Pact to Alex, I concentrate on quelling my nerves with wine. In record time, I’ve finished my first glass and am ordering another. It does the trick. I begin to relax.
“OMG. There he is at twelve o’clock.” I jerk my head toward the other side of the bar. My nerves kick up a notch, despite the fact they must be doing a backstroke in all that Chardonnay by now.
“Oh, he looks so nice,” Erin gushes. “Just like his photo.”
“And he’s got horses, you said?” Sophie asks as she sizes him up.
“Yup, three of them.”
Sophie lets out a whistle. “Cute and loaded. Total score.”
“I’m not sure, but he is a successful dentist. He’s got his own practice, actually.” I feel a burst of pride.
“This is definitely our cue to leave, man. Unless, of course, you want to stick around to torture this guy, too,” Jason says to Alex. “But believe me, it’s not pretty.”
Alex knits his eyebrows together. “I feel kinda sorry for him. Does he know what he’s getting himself into here?” He nods at us three girls.
Jason shakes his head. “I hear you.”
“Poor shmuck,” Alex says.
“Yeah,” Jason agrees.
What is this, some sort of brotherhood?
“You should be feeling sorry for us,” I protest. “We’re the ones who’ve had to date jerks and weirdos. All we’re trying to do here is protect ourselves, you know.”
Erin says, “Mm-hm,” with a nod as Sophie crosses her arms and says, “Exactly.”
“See, you two? We don’t need you. We are quite capable of doing this on our own,” I say with satisfaction.
“We know when we’re not wanted,” Alex replies, his hands in the air.
“Shall we go? That game of pool isn’t going to play itself,” Jason says to Alex.
“Sure thing.” Alex stands and then turns back to me. “Hey, Darcy? Go easy on the guy, okay?”
Go easy on him? Who does he think he is?
“Thank you so much for the advice,” I reply, my voice positively oozing sarcasm. “I’m quite certain he’ll pass. He’s one of the good guys. Unlike some people who don’t know how to treat a woman.”
Alex’s response is to flash me a parting grin before he and Jason say goodbye and leave us girls to it.
Darcy Evans: one. Alex Walsh: minus forty-four-thousand million.
“I’ll wave him over,” I say as I raise my hand in the air.
Seth sees me, smiles, and makes his way over to our table. After planting a kiss on my cheek, just as he did at our Initial Meeting, he turns to my friends. “Hi, ladies. I’m Seth Heikkinen. It’s great to meet you both.”
Erin and Sophie say their hellos, and we all take our seats.
“So, how does this work, exactly? Are there thumbscrews and interrogation lights, or ha
ve you got a fold-up rack to torture me on in one of your purses?” His smile is cute and playful, and I can’t help but smile back at him.
“No torture weapons,” Sophie replies. Her smile drops as she adds, “Unless that’s something you’re into?” She darts me a concerned look.
He laughs. It’s low and gentle and rumbles right through me, making my tummy tingle, just like it did at the café. “No worries there. What’s that saying? I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
“Good to know. Can I get you a drink?” I offer.
“You’re not sticking around for this?” he asks.
I glance at my friends. “I’ll let them start without me. It takes the pressure off a little.”
“In that case, I’ll have a Heineken, thanks.”
Sophie nudges me under the table. “A Heineken for Seth Heikkinen. It’s got a certain symmetry, don’t you think?”
“I guess it does,” he replies. “Although technically my last name is Finnish, and Heineken is Dutch.”
I spring up from my seat. “A Dutch Heineken coming right up.”
As I turn to leave, Sophie begins with, “This won’t hurt a bit, Seth. We promise.”
“Go easy on me,” he laughs.
After ordering his beer, I lean up against the bar and watch Seth and my friends. Erin and Sophie look very serious as they concentrate on something Seth is saying. My insides twist at the possibility it may be something bad. Before I can stop it, my mind begins to run rampant, coming up with a bunch of scenarios.
He could be into weird things.
He could be mean to his girlfriends, ignoring them or not taking them to nice places or even two-timing them.
Heck, he could be a total sociopath, pretending to be a nice, normal guy, out to meet innocent girls like me and lure them into a life of crime. We’d have to skip the country and live in Mexico under pseudonyms, riding donkeys everywhere and eating burritos for the rest of our lives.
Yup, I hear it. I’ve become a drama queen, even though the eating burritos part does sound pretty good. But if you’d had my terrible dating track record, I bet you’d be the same. Married guys pretending they’re single, guys who kiss me to confirm they’re gay, you name it. (And yes, I know that only happened once, but it was very off-putting.)
I pay the barmaid for the beer and make my way through the pub to Seth and my friends.
As I take my seat, Seth is talking. “. . . because that’s the thing with trust: once it’s gone, it’s very hard to get back.”
“You are so right,” Erin says, a look of compassion on her pretty face. “We’re so sorry you went through that. Aren’t we, Soph?”
Sophie nods in agreement.
I’m aching to know what terrible thing Seth has been through. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Seth was telling us about a girlfriend who wasn’t at all supportive when his Thoroughbred horse died. She left him, can you believe?” Erin says.
“Seriously?” I ask. “That’s horrible.”
Seth places his hand on mine. “I have a feeling you get me. And yes, I know that sounds a bit much. I mean, we only just met. But, I hope I’m right.”
I do, too.
“I guess we’ll have to get to know one another some more and see,” I reply, trying to be pragmatic while my heart soars high above the clouds.
“Oh, come on, Darce. Where’s the romance in your soul?” Erin, the romantic one of our little trio, demands.
“I’m plenty romantic,” I protest. “I’m just cautious, that’s all.”
Seth raises his hands in the air. “Hey, I get that. I’m exactly the same. You don’t want to dive into something before you know the full facts. You’re just being rational, thinking things through. It’s another thing to like about you.”
Happiness bubbles up inside me. This guy is the real deal.
“Okay, now that we’ve established that you’re a decent human being, can you tell us what you do to show a girl you like her?” Sophie asks.
“How about meet her friends to get asked mildly uncomfortable questions over a beer at O’Reilly’s?” Seth asks with a glint in his eye.
Erin lets out a laugh. “Great answer.”
“How about a girl you’re already dating,” I ask. “How do you show her you care?”
“Well, let me give you some examples. There was this girl I’d been dating for a while who loved music. Now, I don’t have a musical bone in my body, but I really liked her and wanted to impress her. So, I bought a guitar and had secret music lessons. Once I was good enough, I took her on a picnic in a park, pulled out my guitar, and played one of her favorite songs.”
We are all on the edge of our seats, listening to his romantic story.
“And?” Erin asks.
“And she seemed to appreciate it,” he replies with a self-deprecating shrug. “Not that I think I was any good, of course.”
Impossibly romantic and modest. Could this guy get any more perfect?
And the answer to that question turns out to be a big, fat “yes!” when Seth tells us his next story. “Another time, I didn’t know this girl very well, but I wanted to ask her out. I found out from her friends that she loved peonies. You know, those flowers that look like oversized roses?”
We nod. We’re girls, we know what peonies look like.
“I bought as many as I could find and delivered them personally to her work with a card that said, ‘Will you go to dinner with me?’”
Yup, I’ve swooned. It’s official.
“Forget Darcy. Will you date me?” Sophie says to him.
“I think your boyfriend might have a thing or two to say about that, Soph,” Erin quips.
“Dammit. I forgot about him,” she says with a rueful grin.
“One more thing,” I begin. “I never thought I’d need to ask this of a guy, but just to make sure . . . do you think you might be, I don’t know . . . gay?”
My friends shoot me startled looks.
Seth almost sprays a mouthful of beer over the table. Lucky for him, he manages to swallow it. “No,” he replies with a surprised laugh. He tilts his head. “Why would you ask that? We met on a dating site. For straight people.”
“No reason.” I avoid my friends’ gazes. “Just being thorough.”
“Well, now that you’ve answered Darcy’s unexpected question,” Erin says, “I don’t know about you two, but I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Yup,” Sophie confirms.
I allow myself a small smile. “Totally.”
Seth looks between us. “So, do I get the verdict now or do you make me wait on tenterhooks?”
My eyes dart between my friends, my excitement building inside me as I see the looks on their faces.
I knew it the moment I met him: Seth Heikkinen is one of the good guys. And I’m the lucky girl who found him. With Erin and Sophie’s help, of course.
I turn to Seth. “Would you mind if I asked you one more question?” I ask.
“Sure. Why not.”
“Would you like to go out with me on a date right now?” I hold my breath, my heart rate picking up a notch.
His wide grin tells me all I need to know.
Chapter 7
We’ve just finished devouring our delicious pasta dishes at a cute, little romantic Italian place a couple of blocks from O’Reilly’s when Seth says, “I’m so glad I passed the interrogation.”
I wipe my mouth with my cloth napkin. “I am, too.”
“You know, Darcy, you are so easy to talk to.” His smile is warm as he gazes across the table at me. He lifts the bottle of white wine out of the ice bucket beside our table and tops up my glass.
I beam at him. “Thank you,” I reply with a blush, “for the wine and the compliment.”
His smile lights up his handsome face. “You’re welcome.”
We gaze at one another like a couple of goofy teenagers for a moment. Thoughts bounce around my brain like ping pong balls.
This is
so nice.
I made the right choice.
Seth Heikkinen is the guy for me.
“You’re a total champ for meeting my friends and letting them quiz you like they did.”
“That was nothing. I’ve had to deal with people questioning me about my choices before, and I always think what it comes down to is that you’ve got to know who you are. Be confident. Trust in yourself. Do you know what I mean?”
I sip my wine, admiring his confidence. Unlike Alex’s overt, in-your-face cockiness, Seth has a quiet self-assurance that isn’t at all in-your-face. “I sure do know what you mean.”
“I knew it. You and I are totally sympatico.”
“That sounds like an Italian dessert,” I joke.
“I guess it does. Speaking of which, I know you probably won’t have any, but would you mind if I order some dessert? The tiramisu here is out of this world.”
“I love tiramisu. Let’s order one each.”
His eyebrows ping up in surprise. “You eat dessert?”
“Well, yes. Is that weird to you?”
He shakes his head with gusto. “It’s awesome. My last girlfriend didn’t eat much at all. Mostly just bird seeds and carrots.”
“That sounds super delicious,” I joke.
“Yeah, if you’re a bird or a rabbit.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “I love that you eat dessert.”
“Er, thanks.” What else can I say? I know if I didn’t enjoy my food so much, I’d be a size smaller and could probably contort myself into some of those extreme yoga positions Larissa manages with ease. But in my opinion, life’s too short to worry about that kind of crap. And anyway, it would be my own personal hell to watch my date eat tiramisu without having some for myself.
“Do you eat birdseed and carrots when you’re not on a date?” he asks.
“Carrots, yes, because apparently, they’re meant to help me see better at night. Although I’ve begun to suspect that’s just propaganda put out by the carrot farmers because my eyesight is as good at night as it’s always been.”
“Right?”
“And as for birdseed, that would be a hard no.”
“Good to know.” He waves at the waitress, who takes our order for two tiramisu. “So, on top of all your other qualities, would you say you have an open mind?”
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