by Scott, Lisa
“He’s a voice actor.”
“Ahh. Was he lying about everything else?”
“Well, no. I guess everything else is true. But that’s a big one. Could you sue him for me? For fraud and deception?”
“Not really. I’m a divorce attorney. Did he say why he was faking it?”
Oh, she wasn’t going to tell him the whole sad story. “He overheard me saying how much I wanted a Scottish guy.”
“So he was trying to impress you.” Auggie was quiet for a moment. “He really went out of his way.”
“Hey, shut it and stay on my side.”
Auggie held up his hands. “I am on your side! I’m just trying to get you to look at things from his point of view.”
“You’re such a lawyer.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” Alana said.
Auggie stood. “I have some files for you to look over. Woman’s husband got the nanny pregnant. Now that’s something to be upset about.”
Alana dropped her head in her hands. Of course Auggie didn’t see where she was coming from. He was a man. She was going to have to talk to her sister about this after all. She texted her: Need to talk to you tonight. Save me an hour or five.
Alana tried to keep herself busy at work, but everything reminded her of Doug: the hamburger she had for lunch, the stuffed whale on her desk he’d given her, the Pepto-Bismol in her desk drawer. She thought he’d been so perfect. She couldn’t wait to hear how upset her sister was about this.
***
Alana called Marianne right when she got home.
“What’s the emergency?” Marianne asked.
“Doug. He’s a fraud.”
Marianne gasped. “I knew he was too good to be true. Is he married? A gambling addict? Does he have a prison record?”
“No,” Alana said, hoping her sister wouldn’t be disappointed with something much less sordid. “It started that day when we went to the antique shop.” Alana told her the embarrassing tale about buying the charm necklace at the antique store and making a wish for a guy.
“So Doug heard that and went to the aquarium just to meet you? Awww.”
“Awww? You don’t think that’s stalkerish?”
“I think he saw a pretty woman looking for love and got creative.”
“But that’s not all.” Alana took a deep breath. “He told me he’s been faking his accent.”
“What? How?”
“He’s a voice actor. Says it just slipped out when he met me, and he didn’t know how to tell me it wasn’t real.”
Marianne was silent. “I wish my husband could do a Scottish accent. Did he tell you before or after he slept with you?”
“We didn’t yet. He wanted me to know before we took that step,” Alana said.
“Wow. Give him some points for that.”
“Marianne! Why aren’t you upset about this?”
“He came clean with you before things went too far. And he wasn’t lying about being rich or single or something unforgiveable. Sounds like he was trying to be your dream guy.”
“But how can I ever trust him?”
“I guess you have to decide if you want to try. Guys like him don’t come along every day. Were you only crazy about him because of the accent? How do you think that makes him feel?”
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”
“I just don’t want to hear you complaining a few years from now that I should have talked some sense into you when you’re missing him and drawing a mustache on his fiancée’s picture in the wedding pages.”
Alana said nothing. The idea of him with someone else felt like a punch to the gut. “So you’re telling me to forgive him?”
“I’m telling you to take a deep breath, take a step back, and ask yourself what you’re really upset about. Are you embarrassed he heard you make that wish?”
“Maybe. But more embarrassed I thought he was someone he wasn’t.”
“All because he faked was the accent, right?”
“And telling me he moved here from Scotland. See? He’s good at lying. How can I ever trust him?”
“That’s something you’re going to have to decide for yourself.” Marianne sighed. “The kids are going to be so upset. Joey drew him a picture of a lobster with two stomachs. He was going to send it to him. Doug was so good with the kids. Well, hang in there. Keep me updated.”
Alana hung up, still angry and hurt. She was hungry but had nothing in her fridge, so she headed out to eat, even though it meant going out by herself. She walked a few blocks toward a favorite Italian restaurant, and a guy studying a map looked up.
He was a tall, handsome redhead.
Her heart stopped for a moment, thinking it was Doug. But this guy had slightly longer hair, and dark brown eyes instead of blue.
“Excuse me, I can’t seem to find the closest subway stop,” he said in a deep, sexy Scottish accent.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, then finally said, “Is this a joke?”
The guy looked confused. “No, I’m lost is all. Just got into the States yesterday and I haven’t got the lay of the land quite yet.”
“Just got into the States? From Scotland?”
“My accent didn’t give it away? I was going to wear my kilt, but thought it might be too much.” One corner of his mouth curled up.
Alana swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”
“Just visiting for a few months. I’m a model, and when I’m in-between jobs I like to see the world.”
Alana’s legs felt wobbly and she sat down on a nearby bench. She thought of her necklace still lying on her apartment floor.
He sat next to her. “Are you all right then?”
She blinked quickly a few times. Two moons hadn’t yet passed since she’d made her wish. Was this the guy she was supposed to meet? She looked at him and smiled. “I’m fine. Sorry. Guess I’m a bit lightheaded. I was on my way to grab a bite to eat.”
He stood and offered his hand. “Can I join you? My treat if you help me figure out how to get around this city. I’m Fergus Chisholm.”
“Alana Landrey.” She grabbed his hand—noting its softness—and led him to the restaurant.
Fergus did most of the talking through dinner, telling her about his travels and his work as a model. She could only nod and stare. Occasionally, she forgot to breathe. He seemed to hit every point on her list of qualities she wished for. Was this really happening?
Yet, despite this instant infatuation, she couldn’t stop thinking about Doug. She sighed, chastising herself. She needed to forget about the guy who had completely duped her. The guy who had heard her secret wish and tried to make it come true.
It didn’t sound so bad when she put it that way. But still, she had the real deal sitting in front of her in the form of Fergus, the Scottish model.
“Want to come back to my hotel room?” he asked her, pulling her out of her daze.
“What?”
“Just thought it might be nice to get to know you better, is all,” he said.
As much as a part of her thought, Hell yeah! Her better senses had her saying, “Why don’t we find a bar and grab a drink?”
“Guess that’s a good start,” he said.
They went to a nearby pub, and Fergus got them each a beer. They sat in a booth in the back, and Alana’s heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. Fergus was so damned hot, she didn’t know what to say to him.
“So what do you do for a living?” he asked.
“I’m a paralegal for a divorce attorney.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I know a real simple way to avoid getting divorced,” he said.
“What’s that?”
He shrugged. “Don’t get married. Don’t know why people bother.”
“What if you fall in love? Don’t you want to spend your life with someone?”
“Kind of an old notion, if you ask me. Would you really want to spend the
rest of your days with one person?” He wrinkled his nose.
Alana closed her eyes for a minute, realizing she should’ve added a few requests when wishing on her charm: romance, monogamy, decency. A lot of the features she’d found in Doug.
She refocused on Fergus. “Are you single?”
“Absolutely,” he said, sliding closer to her.
Flustered, she stammered, “So, let me explain the subway system to you.” Alana started telling him how to use the T, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention.
A cocktail waitress stopped at their table. “Are you ready for another drink?” she asked Fergus.
Fergus’ eyes were fixed on her cleavage. “I’m ready for another drink from you. Want anything Alana?” he asked without looking at her.
I want Doug, she thought, surprising herself. “I’m good,” she said. “But I’d like to use the ladies room.” She slid out of the booth and found the restroom. She locked herself in a stall and leaned against the door. The man she had literally ordered from the universe was sitting in the bar. He’d already invited her back to his room. So why am I hiding in here? she wondered.
She went back into the bar, but Fergus wasn’t in the booth. He was at the bar, talking to a tall blonde.
Fergus spotted Alana and smiled. “Ready to leave?” he asked. “My hotel isn’t far from here.”
“I am ready to leave, but not with you,” she said.
His eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean?”
“You seem busy here, and I’ve got someone to visit. Enjoy your stay, by the way.”
He shrugged. “Have a good night then.” He looped his arm around the blonde, while Alana left the pub.
She walked down the street toward the subway, knowing where she was headed without admitting it to herself. She wanted to see Doug. If she could put aside the whole fake accent thing, Doug was her dream guy. The one she had truly wished for.
***
It was ten o’clock p.m., and Doug stood in his recording booth, desperate to get work done. But he couldn’t muster the energy to read the light-hearted children’s story he’d been commissioned to narrate. He’d been trying to be productive all day, but it had been useless since Alana sent him away two days ago. He switched off his equipment, trudged into the living room, and flopped on his couch. He turned on the mix of sad songs he’d made after his fiancée had dumped him. Even though he’d only known Alana for a short time, this breakup felt just as a bad.
While Bono wailed about the challenges of living with or without you, Doug berated himself for showing up at the aquarium that day. It would be hard to find someone as wonderful as Alana. She’d set the bar high for any other women who might come along.
If he didn’t become a monk, that was.
He decided to let himself sulk for an hour, then he’d force himself to get up and do something.
There was a knock at his door, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Maybe not ever. But when the person didn’t let up, he skulked to the door and flung it open. “What?” he bellowed.
It was Alana. She took a step back. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”
His heart soared. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was you. Please come in.”
They sat down on opposite ends of his couch.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just—”
“Miserable,” she interrupted.
“Exactly. Miserable about losing you. Sorry for what I did. Devastated that I blew it.”
She stared at her lap. “I may have overreacted the other day. I was stunned by the news you gave me, and I suppose I was also embarrassed you heard me making a wish for a guy.”
“Don’t be. I think most single people wish they could find that right person. You just happened to say it aloud. And I just happened to be hiding on the floor.” He looked at her, and they both started laughing.
She scooted next to him and grabbed his hand. “I’d like to start over if we can.”
He shook his head. “No way.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh.”
“I’m not going back on the whale boat.”
She laughed. “Then let’s pick up where we left off—without the fake accent.”
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her like he’d never let go. But he did, so he could hold her face in his hands and kiss her.
“I suppose you could do the accent once in a while,” she said in between kisses.
“Oh, aye?”
“Aye,” she said.
“I think I can manage that, lass.”
Dream Guy
“Hottie at two o’clock coming our way,” Lara told me as we hugged the end of the bar.
“Hope he’s coming for you,” I said.
“Better not be, ‘cause I’m quite happy with Chuck.”
“For today,” I said with a smirk.
“Very true.” She finished her drink. “I’m headed for the ladies room.”
Before I could follow her, the cute, dark-haired guy Lara had spotted found me. He smiled and said, “Since I’ve been watching you all night, the least I can do is buy you a drink.”
A year ago, I would’ve said sure and tossed my hair over my shoulder. Instead, I told him, “You don’t want to buy me a drink.”
He looked confused. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “My last boyfriend disappeared at sea. The guy before that was in a car accident and suffered complete memory loss. And the one before that was transferred to Hong Kong a month after we started dating. I don’t want to involve you in my curse. Honestly, I probably shouldn’t even go out to bars anymore.”
He looked at me, then laughed. “Funny.”
“I wish it were a joke. Who knows what will happen to you if we go out a few times? Beheading in a helicopter accident? Flattened in a bridge collapse?”
He blinked at me a few times and stepped back. “So, have a nice night, then.” He quickly returned to his group of buddies.
Lara returned, too, and gave me a look. “You scared him off, didn’t you?”
“I was doing him a favor. A leopard at the zoo would probably end up attacking him if he went out with me. The fates of my boyfriends keep getting worse.”
Lara rubbed her temples. “Just because you keep having a dream where you marry the same guy—a guy you’ve never seen in real life, by the way—doesn’t mean you shouldn’t date other people.”
“The universe is clearly trying to keep me single for him.” Maybe I was going to meet him soon. That could explain why each new guy was being dispatched so quickly and efficiently. Perhaps my dream guy was getting closer after all these years.
Lara took a deep, slow breath. We’d been friends since fourth grade, and she knew some of my dreams came true. I’m not saying I’m psychic, but in fifth grade, I dreamed our teacher broke her leg. Two days later, she came in with a cast up to her thigh, and a tale about falling off a ladder while painting her house.
Lara had been wide-eyed with interest when I told her about my prophetic dream. My mom? Not so much. So I never told Mom about any other dreams. But Lara was always there to listen without judging, although she thought it was downright spooky six months later when I dreamed about the fire that destroyed an abandoned church in our town. And in seventh grade, when my dream came true about my cousin getting into a car crash. Then, freshman year in college, I had my first dream about Blake. I didn’t know for sure if that was his name, but that’s what I called him. In the dream, he stood at the altar, smiling and waiting for me.
He was tall and a bit leaner than the guys I usually went for. Generally, I had a rule that I needed to be able to fit into my guys’ jeans, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get Blake’s jeans over my hips. Surprisingly, he was a redhead. Not my type, really. I preferred dark-haired guys. But from the dimple in his chin and the gleam in his eyes, I imagined him as hilarious and kind, and that I would somehow
grow to love this guy with short, spiky, bright red hair and a matching goatee. He was handsome, but just not who I thought I’d marry. Still, I’d had that dream dozens of times. It never changed.
I shrugged. “Seriously, Lara. Why bother dating anymore? I’m just waiting for Blake.”
“Kim, you don’t know for sure he’s the guy you’re going to marry.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. “I know. It’s one of your shiny dreams, and the shiny ones always come true. But maybe you’re going to be in a movie about a wedding.”
“I’m not an actress,” I protested.
“Maybe you will be. Maybe it’s dinner theatre. Or maybe he’s the groom, but you’re just a bridesmaid in someone else’s wedding. Like mine. Maybe I’m supposed to marry him.”
“What about Chuck?” I asked sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve never seen yourself in the dream, right?”
“True, but it feels like I’m the bride. And he’s looking at me like he’s mentally undressing me.”
She made a face. “Maybe he’s just a shit marrying someone else while checking out the wedding party.”
I finished my drink and pushed the glass aside. “I’m just taking a break from the dating scene for a while. David disappeared at sea, and unless he washed up on a fabulous tropical island somewhere, something really bad happened to him. It’s rather traumatic. I’m just going to read romance novels instead of looking for love. That way, no one will get hurt.”
Lara put her arm around me and squeezed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You have had bad luck. I’ll stop pestering you.”
“Meet me at the library tomorrow during your lunch break. We can pick out some books to read together.” I enjoyed having a friend read along with me so we could gush and swoon over the good scenes. Sometimes, we read the sex scenes out loud and tried not to giggle.
***
I picked my romance novels by the covers. Lara needed to read the back cover and first few pages to be sure it was the right book for her. Needless to say, it took a while for us to find a stack we agreed on. Historical romance was a favorite of ours. As I perused a table of recommended reading, I picked up a big book.
“That’s a good one,” said a man nearby.
I looked up.