by Amy Sparling
A restraining order isn’t exactly the most romantic thing ever.
But … I take a deep breath and shove those thoughts away. I’m not a bad guy, and I’ve never been a creep. Girls like me. I get hit on occasionally, and I know I have a good physique because I work hard on it.
I bet I could easily go out tonight and find a girl who is interested in me. I bet I could make an online dating profile and meet a girl that way. If I wanted a girlfriend, I could get one by next week.
Up until this trip to Phoenix, I hadn’t really wanted a girlfriend. I’ve been so busy with work and life that there wasn’t much time for one.
Now I would make all the time in the world for Alexa. I would cancel appointments and shorten meetings and hire more assistants if I had to. I would do whatever it takes to be with her.
But I’m not sure if she wants to be with me. I resist the urge to look her up online again, and try to go back to my work. However, my work involves being online all day, and Facebook and Instagram are just one click away, so it’s hard to resist the temptation to find her again.
Then I start thinking, for the millionth time, that maybe she’s missing me too. Maybe the reason she left my hotel room as quietly as a mouse wasn’t because she didn’t like me, but for something else. Some other reason I don’t know yet. It’s possible, right? It occurs to me that I am pretty easy to find online, too. If she paid attention to my nametag then she’d be able to look up my business name just like I looked hers up.
I’d pop up instantly as the number one google search under Barr Real Estate. She could be looking at my website right now.
Chills prickle over my arms at the thought of it. It dawns on me that I am a grown ass man and I need to get my life together. I can’t spend countless hours sitting here longing for some woman I only met once. I either need to do something about it, or give up.
I’m not about to show up unannounced at her business, but I can do something else. If fate wants us to be together, then Alexa will find me online the same way I found her. I go to my business Facebook page since I don’t have a personal page, and I create a new post.
Had a great time at the Phoenix Small Business Convention. If we met, and didn’t exchange contact info, please message me through here. Would love to get to talk to you again.
There. That’s subtle yet obvious. I post the status and then stare at it for a while, my heart beating a little faster. This is it. My last call. My Hail Mary pass.
If Alexa likes me the way I like her, she will look me up online and she’ll see this and then the ball is in her court. If not, well I’ll have to accept that it wasn’t fate. I’ll move on with my life.
Janie pops her head into my office, nearly startling me to death. I jump and then try to compose myself. I’d been thinking about Alexa so much that I nearly forgot where I was. She reminds me that I have a client meeting in five minutes.
I grab another cup of coffee and leave the Facebook page open on my work computer. When I come back, I hope there will be a reply.
My meeting only lasts forty-five minutes, and there’s no Facebook reply when I return. I busy myself with the mountains of work I have to do for the rest of the day, but I keep an eye on the page just in case she messages me.
She doesn’t.
But I tell myself that she runs a bakery which is much different than a real estate office. I sit here at a desk all day and she’s in a kitchen. She probably doesn’t even have a computer in there. I’ll wait until tonight before I start to give up.
It has already been a week, I remind myself when it’s after nine in the evening and there’s no word from her. Maybe she did look me up, didn’t see anything important, and then stopped looking. In all reality she’s not thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her, and this is totally the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. It’s definitely the most pathetic.
I think about deleting my Facebook post.
But then I decide to leave it, because sometimes Fate needs a little help. All signs might be telling me to give up, but I’m not quite ready for that yet.
Chapter 15
Things are good. My life is all back to normal after that brief and embarrassing derailing I let Gabe take me on. Love and relationships are so overrated, and I’m happy with my bakery and my friends and my cousin. I don’t need anything else.
Did you believe that?
I almost did.
While life is okay, I’m still a little off. But I’m getting by just fine. The bakery is doing well, and although I was a little nervous about abandoning my business for the convention, it turns out my customers thought it was really cool. Many of my regulars talked to me about the convention and asked if I had fun and learned anything cool and new. I lied to all of them and told them it was a blast. Even though there was tons of informative stuff at the convention, I don’t think I’ll be going back next year. Too much baggage. Too many memories.
I would look into some small business events here in Texas, but Gabe might be at those, too. I think I’ll just stick to what I know—baking—and get all of my new business information through the internet from now on. It’s a Monday, and I’ve had another week to get over a certain guy. Things are a little slow at the bakery since it’s two in the evening, so the breakfast and lunch crowd is over, but I expect it’ll pick up soon. Livi is playing on the computer behind the front counter, looking up college classes online. Mason and I have both encouraged her idea of going back to college to finish what she started a few years ago. She wants to be a teacher and I think that’s so cool. I’ve told her to sign up for classes and we can work her schedule around her classes, because it’s way more important that she fulfills her dreams instead of working here with me, even though I’ll miss her. But she’s my best friend, so I know she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.
I lean against the front counter and stare lazily out the window on Main Street, watching some big biker dudes walk into Mason’s shop. Lone Star Cycles is the place he originally used to work at, until he bought it from the owner. The funny thing is that he still lets the former owner’s son act as manager, even though all the big decisions are Mason’s to make. Mason just doesn’t like the spotlight, and I think he also feels bad for the current manager, who would be lost without the motorcycle shop.
I’m lost in my thoughts when my phone buzzes. I glance over at it, not expecting much of anything since Livi is right here and Mason is working and they text me more than anyone else.
But it’s a new text from a number I don’t have saved as a contact. My heart leaps a little before I even open the message. It’s probably something stupid, like an automatic reminder text from a doctor’s appointment I forgot I had. But still my thoughts spin out of control wondering if maybe it’s from him. If somehow he figured out my number and wants to meet up again.
I unlock my phone and read the message.
Hey, is this Alexa?
Oh God. It’s totally Gabe. He found me, somehow, maybe through my business or something? I don’t know how, but he found me, and I am totally freaking out. All the feelings I’d been trying to get over come rushing back and I am a total mess. Gabe is messaging me. He finally sought me out. Maybe I wasn’t just some one night stand.
I take several deep breaths and glance over at Livi, who is still using the computer and totally unaware that I’m having a mental breakdown over here. I think about calling out to her and sharing this amazing news, but I don’t know what she’ll think. She’s been helping me get over Gabe, after all, and I haven’t talked about him in two weeks so she probably thinks I’m totally over it.
I decide to keep it to myself for now. My fingers shake as I type out a reply.
This is Alexa. Who is this? :)
I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. I reach over for my coffee, which had gone cold long ago, but I drink it anyway and listen to the thudding of my heart while I wait for him to reply.
This is Lee. Sorry it took me so long to message you. Wo
rk has been really busy, but I’m looking forward to seeing you again.
My heart stops. It drops right out from my chest and splatters on the floor. Heat flushes over my whole body, that’s how totally embarrassed I am right now. It wasn’t Gabe. It was Lee. My boring blind date who didn’t seem to like me very much. And now he’s “looking forward to seeing me again”… what even is that? Ugh.
I call Livi’s name and show her the text. I do not tell her how I thought it was Gabe at first.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” she says. “I mean, it took him long enough!”
“He didn’t really seem like he liked me,” I confess.
“He’s just shy,” she says. “I told you. I met him like ten times at Mason’s shop before he even talked to me. But once you get to know him, he’s a good guy.”
I take a deep breath. I know Livi wouldn’t lie to me and she’d only recommend a guy if she thinks he’s worth it.
“So… should I go out with him again?”
“Only if you want to,” Livi says, which is the most unhelpful answer ever. “If you don’t really like him then there’s no reason, ya know?”
I bite on my bottom lip and stare out the window again. “I don’t think I have had enough time to figure out if I like him or not. That one dinner wasn’t enough to make a decision. So maybe I should see him again?”
“It won’t hurt to get to know him. He really is great once he stops being so shy.”
I get what Livi is saying, and maybe she’s completely right, but it’s not very sexy to be told that a guy needs time to come out of his shell like some kind of scared turtle. What’s sexy is the way Gabe walked right up to me and talked like it was no big deal. Like he liked what he saw and wanted to get to know me, awkward first conversations be damned. That is sexy. I wish every man was confident like that, but I guess that’s too big of a wish to make. If Lee is as great as Livi thinks he is, then maybe he’ll make a good boyfriend. He was cute after all, so at least there’s some attraction there.
I stare at my phone and then type out a reply.
I look forward to seeing you again too.
***
Later, I’m at home pretending to have a migraine because Livi and Mason wanted me to go with them for margaritas at our favorite Mexican place, Del Pablo’s. I had to get out of it somehow, so I faked a migraine and then slumped on my couch where I’ve remained for the last few hours.
Lee and I set up a coffee date over text, and I’m not even excited about it. Here I am, with a cute guy who likes me, and I’m not freaking out over choosing the perfect outfit to wear, or how I’ll do my makeup, or anything normal like when I’m really exited to go out with a guy. This is just a date. Nothing special. Nothing exciting.
And this sucks, because I want to be excited about something.
A surge of adrenaline rushes through me, lighting up my insides as I let myself think back to Gabe, even though I shouldn’t. God, he was so sexy. So masculine and handsome and well-versed in making out. His hands knew where to go and his lips knew how fast and slow to move, and how to alternate the methods to make sure our kissing never got boring. I don’t think anything could be boring with Gabe.
He was perfect.
And now here I am, turned on to the max, and staring at my tablet wondering if I should make the impossible search again. If only I could remember the business name on his nametag, then I’d have a better chance of finding him. But I was so caught up in the thrill of my sexy hotel adventure that I didn’t even think to memorize his last name. I don’t even know where my own nametag went. I must have thrown it away or something.
I get up and grab a glass of wine and down half of it in one gulp. If I’m being honest, I want to grab my vibrator and jump into bed and relive that night again, but instead I decide to do something productive with my time.
Maybe it’s the thought of my upcoming date with Lee that has me so hooked on Gabe after weeks of trying to forget him. Regardless, I open my tablet and search for him again.
I drink my wine and rack my brain for his last name. It was something short … and it was also the same name of his real estate company.
Gabe … something.
What was it?
Two glasses later, I’m tipsy and warm and I’m so caught up in thinking about Gabe, that I’ve probably been through a hundred real estate websites looking for him. Now that I have another date with Lee, it almost feels like this is my my last chance to find Gabe again before I’m stuck committing to another guy.
Then it hits me.
Barr.
His last name was Barr.
I type it in and what I’ve been looking for is suddenly right here, the first search result, easily available after all. Why did it take me so long?
I go to his website and see his handsome face on the screen. I smile, remembering his dark beard and sharp jaw and handsome eyes. He really is the whole package.
I look around on the website, but it only lists the business phone number, and not Gabe’s personal number. I’m not sure I’d have the guts to text him anyway.
Then I find his social media profiles and go to Facebook. His company has a lot of five star reviews, which I’d say is obvious. Who wouldn’t give a guy that gorgeous the highest possible rating?
I scroll through and find his newest post. Maybe I’m drunk, but maybe he’s reaching out to me.
Had a great time at the Phoenix Small Business Convention. If we met, and didn’t exchange contact info, please message me through here. Would love to get to talk to you again.
Does that mean what I think it means?
I hover over the like button, knowing that if I click it, it’ll say Alexa Sharp has liked this post, and he’ll see my profile and he’ll recognize me. That’s all I’d have to do. I don’t even have to comment if I don’t want to. I’ve finally found this mysterious and amazing guy. I finally have him right here online and I’m too scared to do anything.
Instead, I decide to play the most pathetic game ever. Social media tag.
I open up my Facebook account for the bakery and type up my own post.
I recently went to a business convention in Arizona, and I had a blast! It was great meeting other business owners—
I stop and read over what I’ve typed so far. No, that’s not good enough. I need to be bold.
I mean not as bold as just messaging Gabe like an adult, but a little bit bolder.
I type: If we met at the convention, come by Sweets Bakery and get a cupcake and coffee on me!
And then I add a heart emoji and I post it. I know Livi will see it eventually and call me out on my obvious attempt to lure that sexy man I’ve been “getting over” to my shop, but I don’t care.
It probably won’t work. And he’ll probably never see it.
But if he does, well, it’ll be worth it.
Chapter 16
I’m trying to keep my distance from Britta Calgon, the twenty-three year old homebuyer I’ve been driving all over town, but she’s not having any of it. She keeps breeching that unspoken bubble of personal space that two strangers usually keep between each other. She touches my arm every chance she gets, and she follows me around like a puppy, even though she’s the one who should be taking the lead here. She’s the one who wants to buy the house.
We’re currently viewing a six bedroom two story McMansion on the east side of town that comes with a hefty price tag of just over four hundred thousand dollars. She’s already looked at least a dozen houses with me—always requesting just me as her real estate agent—and she hasn’t made up her mind yet.
“Daddy said I should stick to around three-fifty,” she says, giving me a coy smile as she ventures into the house’s dining room. “But I think he’ll go up higher if I want.”
It must be nice, I think. Having a rich dad who buys you an entire house to celebrate graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English. I’ve had to work for everything I own, and although I have money saved up to buy a house of
my own, I’m still living in an apartment. Call me crazy, and I probably am, but I just don’t want to buy a house as a single man. I’ve always pictured house-buying as a couples activity. I’d walk hand in hand with the woman I’m going to marry, looking at prospective homes. She’d want to pick out color schemes and I’d be planning the backyard patio design. Until I have all of that, I don’t want to move anywhere bigger or buy anything for myself. It’d just be a waste of all that space.
“This house might be a little too big for you,” I tell Britta, which is my polite way of saying we shouldn’t waste our time looking at a house she can’t afford. I know she thinks her dad will pay more than his budget of $350,000, but I know for a fact that he won’t. He’s made that very clear in his emails to me that his daughter must stick to his budget.
Britta shrugs and ventures into the kitchen, which is massive and made of white marble with brushed nickel fixtures. “Well, it won’t be just me forever. I want a family.” She runs her fingers down the marble countertops and turns to face me.
“Don’t you want a family?”
The way she says it is so obviously transparent. She’s hitting on me. On another day, in another life, where I hadn’t met Alexa, I might find this woman with her long golden hair and expensive boob job and professionally applied makeup kind of hot, in a slutty way. But this is the kind of woman that men designate as hook ups. She’s too flighty, too stuck on herself, and too spoiled rotten by her father to ever make a good girlfriend.
If Britta were here with either one of my cousins, they’d no doubt be hooking up in the large master bedroom closet by now, but that won’t work with me.
I shake my head and answer her question in a way that will let her know I’m not my cousin. “Nope. Bachelor life for me.”