I returned my attention to my computer screen. The comparison finished. The checksums didn't match. Someone had tampered with and corrupted my code. Now I was certain all I had to do was reload the original code and I'd be good. That would take some time, though. And I'd have to run a few tests when it finished.
I glanced at the clock. I was supposed to meet Blair at seven. If I got this started first…
I texted her again, telling her I had just a bit more to do, that I would definitely be late. I hoped to catch her before she left for the restaurant.
There were cameras and security monitors all over the office. Fortunately, I knew where they were and how to avoid them. I'd positioned myself so no one could see exactly what I was doing all along. I held my position as I began reloading my code.
My suspicions were right on the money—someone had sabotaged my code. I made a mental note to load traps into any more code I wrote. I was going to catch Randy at his game.
I glanced at the clock again. Crap. I had to run. Just a few more minutes to close up. If I hurried, I'd only be a few minutes late.
* * *
Blair
I don't like being rushed for time. I'm usually one of those early or on-time people. I like dining alone even less. Especially when I'm supposed to be in the company of a handsome, intriguing man. And when I'm being followed around by a camera crew, all bets are off.
Yes, Sheri promised not to send a crew with us. But she couldn't help herself. One showed up with only perfunctory apologies.
So here I sat. Looking more and more stood up. On camera. Or, rather, waiting to be on camera. The camera guys were at the bar having a drink while we waited for my date.
I sighed and glanced at my phone. Nothing.
Bored, and needing something to do so I didn't look like a complete loser, I logged onto social media. Austin popped up in my timeline. In a selfie with a pretty, perky blond. Leaning in close to her and grinning. He was tagged in a post by the blond, who was named Tish.
My hero. I came out to a flat tire. Austin saved the day. #bigstrong #lifesaver
My heart stopped. I stared at that picture too long. A storm of jealousy brewed, threatening to erupt. No, I had no right to feel jealous. I had no hold over Austin. I'd even put him off.
And yes, I'd seen other women flirt and fawn over him since first meeting him. Come on. Rabid Jamie fans. Remember them? Almost any of those women, and even the gay men among them, would have loved to lick him from head to toe and taste everything he had to give. If I were being completely honest, I didn't care for it.
The key difference was that they hadn't been real threats. He smiled and flirted harmlessly back with them. He'd learned a trick or two from Connor about how to handle fans. But he hadn't paid them any real attention. Not like this.
Okay, Tish. You've hooked me. I checked out her profile. Social stalking was beneath me, but I did it anyway.
Little Tish was a good seven years younger than I was. A software engineer. A gamer. A petite, buxom blond to my tall, thin brunette. She had a pert, perky nose. The upturned kind that men thought was cute. And a big, full mouth. Generous for kissing.
And, worst of all, her profile was filled with pictures of Austin and her together. On obvious dates. Laughing and smiling. Mugging for the camera. Clearly having fun and enjoying each other's company. There was even one of them kissing.
Who the hell had taken that one?
I breathed hard. Slow down, Blair. My fist was clenched so tightly my knuckles were white.
Relax. Green with envy isn't my color.
But. But. They were so damned cute together.
Which didn't mean I trusted dear little Tish with the full, kissable lips. Remembering what Austin had told me about the matchmaking process, and how daters were encouraged not to be exclusive until they'd been going out on dates for several months at least, I saw this for what it very probably was—an attempt to scare other women off. To show that he was hers.
Was he? That was what I didn't know.
I sighed. What had I wandered into and interfered with? Why hadn't Austin told me about Tish? Was my "selfless" desire to help Connor messing up Austin's love life? And what was Tish doing with Austin today?
Worse—where the hell was Austin?
* * *
Austin
Two flats.
I stared at my car. Two flat tires. More than my spare could handle. Letting the air out of my tires—very funny, Randy.
I swore and grabbed my compressor. Crazy that I'd had to use it twice in one day. As soon as I hooked it up to the first tire and turned it on, I heard the familiar hiss that Tish's tire had made earlier. Sabotage.
Someone had intentionally spiked my tires.
I glanced at my watch. There was no time. I grabbed my phone to bring up the Uber app. I'd have to deal with the tires later. And wouldn't you know it? With impeccable timing, my phone chose that second for the battery to die.
All right. Think, man.
I put the compressor away. I had a phone charger in my office. I'd just plug in and use it there. I ran back to the building. First I'd call Blair. My excuses were sounding lamer and lamer. Yeah, the dog ate my homework.
I shook my head.
When I got to my office, my charger was missing. Not where it should have been. Not where it should not have been. Disappeared into thin air.
The only place I had Blair's number was on my phone. Swearing, I looked up the number of the restaurant online. Hoping she was still there and hadn't given up on me and our date, I called the restaurant. I explained the situation to the hostess and asked her to deliver a message to Blair.
"Even better," the hostess said, sounding amused, but sympathetic. "We're still set up to be old school here. I'll bring a phone to her table so you can speak to her yourself."
She may as well have added, Good luck, buster. It was in her tone. I was sure she'd seen it all. I bet she would be willing to pay admission to watch Blair as I explained. What do we live for except to entertain others?
* * *
Blair
As the camera guys watched, along with a bunch of curious onlookers, the hostess brought a phone to my table.
"What is this?" I said, staring at the cordless phone. I half expected her to say this was a prank. Smile! Sunshine Sheri has just pranked you for her morning show.
"Call for you." She handed me the phone. She leaned close and whispered, "Be gentle. He sounds contrite."
I took the phone reluctantly. "Hello?"
"Blair! Thank God." It was Austin, sounding rattled and, as the hostess had said, exceptionally apologetic and contrite.
He launched into an elaborate description of Randy the douche, working late, a match of his being assigned to the project—the perky Tish, apparently—software bugs, changing tires, punctured tires, and dead phones.
I should have been upset. But for some reason, it was funny. Hysterically funny. I couldn't help laughing. As much from relief about Tish as anything.
"So you're telling me you've had a Jonah Day, is that it?" I said, wiping my eyes with a napkin when I caught a breath.
"If that's a day from hell, yeah." He sounded wary and concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Perfect," I said, trying to regain control of myself.
"Good." He didn't sound like he believed me. "Look. I'm really sorry. I'd like to say I'll meet you at the theater and we can carry on like nothing happened. That's what I'd like to say.
"The truth is, I'm hot and frustrated. My shirt is dirty and has a tread mark on the sleeve. I need a shower. I need another couple of hours to finish up my project. And I have to deal with my car. I'm not wild about leaving it here overnight in the condition it's in. I should have it towed to a tire shop. Two new tires are going to set me back half a grand, at least."
"You're in no mood?" I said, dabbing at my eyes again and crumpling the napkin in my lap.
He sighed. "I'm really sorry. Can we reschedule?"
I looked dubiously at the cameraman and his assistant. "Sure." I couldn't help myself. I broke into laughter again. I was such a fool. "No problem as far as I'm concerned. Sheri might not be so understanding."
He swore beneath his breath.
"Don't worry," I said. "I'll deal with it. You have enough on your plate. Or not on your plate." I could barely get the words out. I was trying so hard not to keep laughing. So much for fairytale romances.
"What's so funny?" he said, sounding alarmed.
"This! Us. Old flames—"
"You mean Tish?" he said. "I wouldn't call Tish an old flame—"
"Tire destroyers," I said, ignoring his protest.
I must have looked like a madwoman. I wanted to tell him that we'd had such a beautiful beginning that a setback of equal magnitude was to be expected at some point. This early was a little unsettling, though.
I wanted to ask him more about Tish, too. And tell him I understood. That I didn't want to interrupt his life. But was that the truth?
The green twines of envy around my heart would say otherwise. Anyway, I refrained. If he was ducking out to meet her, I had no right to call him on it. Other than to say he could be honest with me about her. But this wasn't the place and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear that kind of honesty right now.
"Go," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Show up on time for the party and all will be forgiven."
Chapter 3
Blair
As I got ready for the party, my thoughts were full of Austin. I liked to think I was a serious woman who didn't play games. I wasn't the kind of woman who purposely toyed with a man's heart or led him on, played hard to get or anything like that. Nor was I a woman who chased the unattainable. At heart, I was a logical, practical doctor.
If the unattainable had been my goal, I would have stayed with Nigel. He was like a boyfriend in a box who I could take out only for holidays. But that had grown old.
I didn't expect a guy to play games with me, either. But I had to admit that a man who came on too fast, too hard, too soon turned me off. And although that wasn't the case with Austin, his sudden aloofness and quickness to reschedule the date, and Tish's obvious infatuation with him, had made me realize how much I desired him.
But was that even fair? How broken was my heart if I could already be falling for Austin and his infectious smile? Be ready to fight a twenty-four-year-old for his attention. Get ready, bitch. I'll mud-wrestle you for him.
The thought made me laugh. I pictured her dressed like a video game warrior princess in tight armor with impossibly large breasts, wrestling me in my prim white lab coat. What guy would choose me?
In the back of my mind, I felt disloyal to Nigel. Guilty. Like a cheater, even though I shouldn't. I'd played fair and honorable. I'd broken up with him before even meeting Austin. But I had been faithful and loyal to Nigel long distance for so long, it was hard to break the habit. I had become, I thought, nunlike in everyday life. Romance was a holiday thing.
And then there was that lack of closure. The kind you get when you go to a memorial service instead of a funeral. When there's no body, just a smiling picture of the deceased and you wonder why they aren't there for their own event. It's hard to grasp they're really gone.
The same in this situation. I broke up with Nigel over the phone. There were no tears. No last goodbyes. No dramatic exit. No returning of gifts. No begging. Just a stiff upper lip and all that from him.
Breaking up that way seemed bloody heartless and cowardly after such a long time together. But what was I supposed to do? Fly to London? That was the problem, wasn't it? The distance, the cost, the time. Anyway, I'd told Nigel I'd always love him. And I had meant it. At the time. But now, scant weeks later, here I was, thinking about Austin nonstop just a week after meeting him.
Had I lied to Nigel? Or had my heart lied to me? And if I could be fooled by love so easily with Nigel, was it lying to me about Austin, too?
How cruel fate was to get the timing of this off so badly. If I had only met Austin a year from now, when I had more time to be sure…
I really knew very little about him. And yet I knew everything I needed to know. But I was still left wondering whether I'd interrupted his life in some important way. I had to offer to bow out of this charade gracefully, no matter how much fun it was, and give him the opportunity to return to Tish and any other engaging matches he'd been seeing.
The news had been full of Connor and his new girlfriend. But that would soon blow over. All things did. As much as I loved Jamie, and the thought of helping the show out and getting more publicity was thrilling, Austin was a real person. With real feelings. And a real life.
Fortunately, Sheri had taken the false start of our first date well. When tweets and posts had started appearing about the glow already being off the new Jamie couple and me being stood up, publically, by Austin, she stepped right in to cover for us.
At Sheri's urging, I'd ended up taking Beth to the theater. Thinking on her feet, Sheri had tweeted that she'd found out about my sick aunt. When she discovered that my aunt's favorite Broadway show was in town and sold out, she did her own version of making someone's wish come true and got us tickets. Connections. Sheri was full of connections.
Me dining alone, what was that about? Beth should have been there, too, shouldn't she? Yes, yes, of course. But she hadn't been feeling up to being out that long. And since her appetite was practically nil these days. Well, that was Sheri's fault for not thinking that through. She took full responsibility. See? There was an explanation for everything if you looked for it.
Sheri's coverage shut the rumors up quickly. Who could call her a liar? Even the dinner reservations had been made in the show's name.
Sheri won major points for being so thoughtful and warm. Caring and wonderful. The Jamie show people and network were still happy. The focus was still off Connor, as much with this new sensationalism as if we'd had a happy date. And Austin was off the hook as being an apparent douche. The love story continued. Sheri had turned a black eye into a feather in all of our caps.
But I wondered, who had leaked the story about me being stood up in the first place? I'd tried, but failed, to find the source of the rumors. The social web was too contorted. I didn't recognize any of the early players.
Tragedy averted, it was now up to me to give Austin his freedom.
He offered to pick me up at home and drive me to the party. But where was home, exactly? I rented a condo near the medical center and crashed there either when I worked particularly late or had a brutal early shift. I'd barely unpacked into it. It felt more like a hotel than a home. Mostly I stayed in my old room at Beth's, to keep an eye on her while she got her strength back. I had most of my clothes and personal effects there for the moment.
Beth was dying to meet Austin and, under any other circumstance, would have insisted he pick me up at her place so she could get a look at him in person. She wanted a shot at seeing for herself whether he was "the one" for me. Fortunately for me, she was out at her monthly Bunko night on Saturday. Which gave me options. It was safer for my heart to get ready and have him pick me up Beth's. But, as I'd already arranged with Beth, he was dropping me off at my condo. I planned to be out late and I had a morning shift at the hospital. It was easier for all of us.
I met Austin at the door. When I opened it to him, the sight of him sent my heart skittering out of control. He looked like Connor. And not. Maybe it was the adorable, but geeky, modern touch of the pen in his pocket. I usually carried one, too. But not to a party.
I wondered, but only briefly, if I was so attracted to him because I was building him up in my mind into the fictional Jamie. The dashing hero I'd dreamed of as a girl. But weren't heroes like Jamie from another age where savagery reigned and brutality was expected? In a civilized world, what guy had a chance to be a true hero?
I half expected flowers. Some show of apology, anyway. But he arrived empty-handed, armed with only a smile warm enough to melt my iceberg
of a heart and make me forget any tinge of annoyance with him.
He hugged me. I felt small and secure in his arms.
"You didn't tell me Sheri had a cameraman at the restaurant," he said with a merry twinkle in his eyes. "I feel like a real douche now."
"It was no big deal. I told you I'd handle it, and I did. The cameraman was very sweet. He bought me a drink."
"Moving in on you when I wasn't there? Sly man," he said. "An opportunist, anyway."
"Just a sweet guy," I said.
"I wish I could have had a drink with you," he said as I got my coat. "Dinner, too. I had to make do with cold carryout garlic chicken and a veggie roll."
"Poor you," I said, not sympathetic in the slightest. "At least you had company."
He frowned. "Company? You mean Randy?"
"Tish?" I said, hoping he'd slip up and give me some indication of how he felt about her.
"Tish isn't company, though she did bring me the garlic chicken."
"Oh, she did?"
"It's not like that," he said, too quickly. "Randy brought her over on the project. To torment me. He told her to buy the chicken."
Torment him how?
"Let me get this straight—Randy ordered Tish to buy you garlic chicken?" I said. "That's interesting. And ridiculous. And possibly sexist. Am I right?"
Austin laughed. "Not exactly. He told her to buy me dinner. Us dinner. On the company. Because he expected us to be working through the night. He was being falsely magnanimous." He told the story with such amusement, it was hard not to smile.
But now that he'd brought the subject up, I seized the opening and plunged ahead. "About that, about Tish, and the matchmaking, and your life…"
I choked on the words I wanted to say. My tongue felt thick. My mouth dry. My heart raced.
"I wasn't thinking about you, and your life, when I suggested we go along with this charade. Not at Comicon and not at Sheri's. Me, I don't have anything to lose, nothing to give up. It's just a bit of fun for me. A distraction from tragedy and sick patients. I wasn't thinking about you when I dragged you into this—"
Almost Elinor: A Jet City Novel Page 3