by Virna DePaul
His jaw worked a moment as if he was thinking. “What’s none of your business?”
“The way you date around,” I blurted. My face heated and I turned away.
“The way I what?” He took a step closer to me.
I hated that I wanted him to step even closer. “You’re selling yourself short. That’s all.”
His brows came together. “What am I missing here?”
A relationship with me. I couldn’t say that though. You couldn’t make someone want to be with only you. Just thinking about what my dad had gone through brought tears to my eyes.
His expression softened. “Mel, what’s wrong?” He reached for my hands. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”
His hands were especially warm in the cool evening air and chills radiated up my arms from his touch. No. I would not fall for him. I couldn’t. It wouldn’t last and I’d be the one left hurting in the end.
I jerked my hands out of his, suddenly angry. “You know, it’s hard not to take you seriously when you act like this.”
He frowned and took a step back. “Act? You think this is an act?”
“Of course it’s an act. Last week it’s the brunette at the dance club, at lunch today it’s the girl in the sexy business suit, and tonight…who knows with you? You’re just a—” My cheeks puffed out and all the frustration of the past two days burst from inside me, “You’re such a player!”
His brows flew up. “You think that of me?”
His gaze had always been warm in the past, but the look he gave me left me chilled to my core. My eyes burned and I immediately wanted to take my words back.
His jaw set and he stared at me a moment longer, cold and empty. “Eileen, who you met at The Oasis, is someone I dated twice. I’m single and there’s no law against that. The girl at lunch today was my sister. She’s up from L.A. this week and I wanted to introduce you, but you and your friend busted out of the restaurant so fast I didn’t get the chance.”
His sister? I bit my lip, feeling like a fool. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“At least now I know what you think of me.” He laughed bitterly. “I thought we were friends but….”
He shook his head. “What have I ever done to give you that impression of me? Just because I’m getting my PhD, do you think I’m in that college dating mode or something?”
“No, I—”
“No. You just think that little of me, of my integrity.” With his jaw tight, he slid his hands in his pockets, and took a step backward. “Have a nice dinner with your parents.”
“Matt….” My lower lip trembled as he hurried down the sidewalk and disappeared around the corner. I leaned against the brick wall for support. He was gone. My eyes were hot and my throat went tight. It felt like my heart had been ripped out.
I’d been wrong about him being a player. My mistake may have cost me his friendship. A mistake I’d made with Erica’s help. As I marched to Betty, I pulled out my cell phone. Erica had some serious explaining to do.
***
At eight o’clock, I screeched Betty into my parents’ driveway and slammed her into park in front of their three-car garage. I hit redial and it went straight to Erica’s voicemail again.
“Me again.” I tried not to sound as angry as I felt. “I don’t care how late it is, just call me.”
I’d thought about canceling on dinner, but with Kaitlin’s “big news,” my parents would freak if I didn’t show. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, wiped under my eyes, then combed my hands through my hair, which was still damp.
I hopped out of the car, wanting to get dinner over with as quickly as possible. I didn’t know if I could put on a happy face even though it was expected of me.
When I turned the knob on my parents’ front door, nothing happened. Locked. The muscles in my arms went tight and it was all I could do not to scream. Why-oh-why did they lock the front door when they knew I was coming over?
I rang the bell, vowing that the second Kaitlin spilled her news I’d be out of there. Checking my cell—no return call or text from Erica—I rang again, then finally heard the deadbolt unclick.
As the front door opened, I tried my hardest to paste a perky smile on my face.
Then the door opened and my smile dropped. Standing in my parents’ foyer was Paul DeWitt—the investment counselor who’d broken my heart a month and a half ago.
“Paul,” I said, unable to conceal my shock. I’d never introduced him to Dad and Janet, so how did he know where they lived?
He gave me a nervous look. “Uh, what are you doing here?”
My ex-boyfriend was standing in my parents’ foyer and he was asking me what I was doing here? Had my parents sold the house and forgotten to tell me? This was absolutely, unconditionally, the night from Hades.
I mentally snorted. Hades. That’s great. My memory would pick this moment to remember all things Greek. Where had my brain been during the whole play dough fiasco? Isn’t that just the icing on the Acropolis?
“Hi!” Kaitlin appeared in the doorway and laced her arm through Paul’s.
“Hhh…” Gasping wasn’t a great response, but I swear a two-letter word had never been harder to say. “Hhh….”
She smiled, showing off unnaturally white teeth, tossed her long red extensions over her shoulder, and…had she gotten a boob job? They seemed to have doubled in size. “I see you’ve met my darling boyfriend.”
Paul’s face went white and at the same time my stomach heaved.
“This is your sister?” Paul gasped.
Kaitlin nodded enthusiastically, then pulled me into a tight hug. “He didn’t tell you the news, did he?”
“N-no.” I didn’t dare ask what news and didn’t want to know what news. I just turned around ready to hightail it out of there.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Kaitlin grabbed my arm and pulled me through the doorway. “I don’t care what you forgot in your car. We’ve been waiting for you forever and can’t wait another minute. I want to tell Mommy, Daddy, and you at the same time. Come on.”
After tripping inside—in addition to my voice, my feet weren’t working so well—Kaitlin released my arm, shut the door and clip-clopped on her heels toward the dining room with Paul in tow.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning, I stood outside Totally Fit with my hand on the door, unable to pull it open even though it was five-thirty in the morning and I was freezing cold.
My mind reeled from last night’s events. Kaitlin was engaged to my ex. Kaitlin asked me to be her maid-of-honor—I swear she’d emphasized the word “maid” to rub it in that I was single. Didn’t she have a best friend or a hairdresser or anyone else to ask? Someone who hadn’t seen the groom-to-be naked?
Even worse, I’d left eight messages but Erica still hadn’t called me back, so I had all this pent up aggression I hadn’t been able to release. Now, I had to go in and face Matt. I’d never dreaded going to work in the two years I’d worked here. Today, the front door felt unusually heavy and it took all my effort to pull it open then step into the warmth of the lobby.
Matt sat in his usual spot, reading a thick book with a faded grey hardcover.
My stomach lurched as if part of me hadn’t expected him to be here. As if one argument with Melanie Porter would be enough to get him to call in sick after a year and a half of working here and never missing a day. Oh, gosh. I was stalling.
“Good morning,” I said, adjusting the handle on my shoulder.
“Morning.” His voice was neutral, neither friendly nor angry, but he didn’t look up from his book.
Bad sign. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and walked past the front counter.
“What’s the word?” he said.
I stopped, my eyes promptly filling. “The word?”
Matt shut his book with a loud snap. He no longer looked disinterested. He looked hurt. “After a year and a half of giving me The Word, you think you’re going to pass by wi
thout choosing it?”
I bit my lip. “You’re speaking to me.”
“Apparently so.” His voice was lighter this time. Not quite friendly, but it seemed like he was trying.
My eyes burned and I had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “Matt, I’m—”
“The word, Mel.” He seemed uncomfortable and shook his head. “It’s just a word.”
It irritated me that he wouldn’t let me say what I needed to say. “Matt, I’m sorry.”
He gave me a blank look. “That’s three words. We only need one.”
I couldn’t help, but smile. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Forgiven?” Matt leaned forward, tapping his finger on the countertop. “That’s one word, I suppose, but not very imaginative.”
“Thanks, Matt. You don’t know how much I—” I leaned on the counter and my hand accidentally brushed his.
He immediately pulled away from me. “Those are a lot of words. I’m beginning to think you’ve forgotten how the game goes.”
It hurt that he’d cringed at my touch, but I suppose I deserved it. At least he was talking to me. “You pick the word.”
“Hmm,” he said, then shook his head. “That’s not how it works.”
I shrugged. “Seems like things are working differently now.”
He didn’t say anything and I didn’t say anything, and the long drawn out silence was starting to get to me when the front door burst open.
“Mornin’ all!” Steve strode in wearing his red polo and white shorts. “What’s the word?”
Matt and I kept staring at each other, neither of us answering. How had I never noticed how stubborn he could be?
Steve leaned against the counter next to me. “The word, people. Clue me in already.”
Remembering what Matt had said when I’d told him to choose the word, I turned to Steve, and said, “The word of the day is hmmm.”
“Really?” Steve scratched his head. “Is that a word? Seems like more of a sound to me. Hmmm.”
I gestured toward Matt with my thumb, just like he usually did with me. “He picked it. Blame him, not me.”
The corners of Matt’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t have a comeback.
I widened my eyes as if shocked. “Finally, I’ve stumped the unstumpable.” I smiled. “Hmmm. I think I like that.”
Steve looked from Matt to me. “Why do I always feel like I’m missing something when it comes to you two?”
“Hmmm,” Matt said. “Don’t know, Steve. Were you often left out as a child?”
“Actually…” he began.
A ding ding sounded from behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. If it was Erica, I might lose it, and I didn’t want to lose it in front of Matt and Steve.
“Good morning,” a familiar male voice said. “Is the gym open yet?”
Definitely not Erica.
It was Brad.
Every nerve in my body went on red alert. He came up behind me, but I couldn’t move.
Instead of greeting Brad the way a front clerk was supposed to, Matt just stared at him. Truth be told, he seemed kinda angry.
“It’s a few minutes early, but sure.” Steve picked up his gym bag and started heading around the desk. “Come on back.”
“All right.” Brad followed Steve’s trail, but said over his shoulder, “Mornin’ Mel.”
“Morning.” But I didn’t even look at him. I raised my brows at Matt, hoping to get that hard look off his normally sweet face. “Hmmm.”
“That guy is an idiot,” he said, before picking up the book he’d been reading earlier.
A warm feeling flushed through me at Matt’s protectiveness.
The front door dinged again. This time, it was Erica. “Hi, everyone. How’s it going?”
“It’s going, Conner,” Matt said. The muscles on his forehead had yet to relax.
“Okaay.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop, turned to me, and bopped the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you back last night. Mario came over and well, you know.”
I did know. I was beginning to finally know Erica pretty well, actually. “Can I speak to you in the back, please?”
Matt raised his brows as I stormed past him and pushed through the double doors that led to the back.
I’d avoided my mom since she left me.
I’d avoided seeing my relationships for what they really were.
Well, I was done avoiding anything.
***
I had ten minutes before my aerobics class and it’s not like I had my own office, so I led Erica into the janitor’s closet and closed the door.
“What’s up, girl?” Erica may have been flighty, but she wasn’t stupid. “You’re mad that I didn’t call you back?”
I threw an irritated look at the cleaning products on the shelf. “When I leave eight messages telling you to call as soon as you get this, that’s a good indication it’s pretty important.”
“So was my date with Mario.” She smiled, but when I didn’t smile back, she let out a big sigh. “All right, what gives?”
“Matt Thompson is not a player.” My voice cracked and I started to pace the closet. “You told me he was.”
To Erica’s credit, she didn’t deny it. “You sound mad.”
“Of course, I’m mad.” I strode across the tiny room in two steps, then stopped and threw my hands wide. “You lied.”
She held her palm up. “First of all, I didn’t lie.”
My mouth dropped open and I gave her a look that said I didn’t believe her.
“Okay, I lied.” Her tone softened. “But, it’s not like I lied about something important between you and me. Like if I’d said you don’t look fat in that outfit and you did, that would be a real lie. Saying some guy’s a player….” She waved a hand in the air as if she were trying to find the right words.
“But he’s not,” I said.
“Well, of course he’s not. He’s Matt. He’s perfect.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you want me to say?” Her pitch rose an octave. “That after two dates, he still wouldn’t make a move?” Her pitch went even higher. “That he wasn’t interested in me that way and that he said he wanted to be friends?”
I stared at her blankly, shocked to finally hear what really went down between them. “Well, why not if that’s what actually happened?”
“Because it’s pathetic.” She said it as if I were stupid. “I’d waxed poetic about how great he was, but he didn’t think I was that great. Did you want me to write it on a billboard?”
“How can you justify lying to me?”
“Well, I can’t believe you’re bent out of shape over something that had nothing to do with you.”
The door to the janitor’s closet opened suddenly. Hot Nick stood there, only his hotness seemed to have dimmed slightly. All I could think about was Matt and the way he’d avoided my touch earlier.
“Ladies, every word you’re saying is coming through to my office,” Nick said, looking to the far wall where the dusty vent had apparently been relaying our conversation. He checked his watch. “It’s ten after six.” He looked at Erica. “Don’t you have a yoga class you should be leading?”
“We were just…finishing up.” Erica gave me a dirty look as if this had been my fault, then she hurried out of the closet.
“And you, Melanie?” Nick’s voice sounded firm, strong, and in charge.
If I weren’t so upset, I’m sure I would’ve found it appealing. “I’m sorry. I’m going.”
My six o’clock class was usually full of people who wanted to get their cardio in before work. I’d never been more than a minute late to class. How embarrassing.
I moved past Nick without glancing up at him until I heard him speak.
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect,” I said. Perfectly awful, that is.
“Good.” He lifted a hand to adjust his tie. “Are you, by any chance,
available for lunch day?”
“Lunch?” I blinked, stunned. I hadn’t even flirted with him yet. I didn’t feel the spark of excitement I thought I’d feel if he asked me out, but a lunch date might be just the thing to cheer me up. Then, I remembered Betty and bit my lip. Boyfriend Bylaw number two. I had to get permission to accept a date, but I didn’t have time to call Patti since I was already late for class. Not to mention Nick had started giving me a weird look.
Nick seemed great, but Betty was my shiny blue security blanket. I’d already lost Matt. I couldn’t lose her, too.
“Melanie?” His voice was tinged with confusion. “I know it’s last minute. Is there a problem?”
“Right. I mean, no. Lunch.” My stress level went up and I could actually feel the clock ticking. Why couldn’t Patti have given me pre-permission like I’d asked? I felt dumb for not answering, but how could I explain that I had to call my roomie for permission to go to lunch with him?
Then something occurred to me. Patti managed my love life, not my work life. Maybe Nick was asking me out for business reasons. I smiled, proud of myself. “I accept. A working lunch sounds great.”
“Noon?” He smirked and the adorable dimple on the left side of his mouth popped out.
“A nooner’s perfect.” My eyes widened at my unfortunate choice of words and my face flamed. “Um, I mean, sure, noon works.”
“Noon then.” He nodded, then held his arm out to let me pass through the doorway first.
Total gentleman. Wow.
I hauled booty to the aerobics room, unzipping my pink hooded sweatshirt as I ran.
I couldn’t help thinking of Matt and how I’d screwed up our friendship.
But, maybe this lunch would turn my life in a different direction.
***
It wasn’t an evening at The Boat House. I would’ve rather met Nick somewhere nicer—somewhere the ketchup didn’t come out of a group container with a plastic pump—but at least the little burger joint Nick took me to was in walking distance from the gym. If needed, it would take less convincing for Patti to think this lunch was solely business-related.