The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series

by Hilary Dartt

  “My heel broke off.” She held it up as if to explain, then shrugged. Then she wondered why she hadn’t left it in the car.

  She and the receptionist grimaced at each other and the girl looked sympathetic. Glancing at the clock behind the receptionist’s head, Delaney noticed it was a minute after noon.

  “Oh, you’re fine,” the girl said. “Delaney, right? Doctor Rick’s running a bit behind. She’ll just be a minute.”

  Instead of the usual pet prescription posters showing bloodsucking parasites and dogs’ internal organs, paintings of horses warmed the waiting room walls. Instinct would have had Delaney strolling around the room, scoping things out, but the broken heel made her plant herself on the wooden bench.

  Because she had time, she did a quick check: her dark jeans were clean, her sweater was buttoned, and her hair (still wet and in a bun) seemed to be in place.

  The door behind the receptionist’s desk opened and a tall, slender woman with a long blond braid and hazel eyes poked her head out.

  “Ms. Collins? Sorry I’m a bit late. Come on back. Mind if I eat while we talk?”

  They sat at a small dining table in the break room. Doctor Rick pulled a salad and a root beer out of the mini fridge. Delaney saw, with some disdain, that her resume sat on the table, too. The “current employment” section was highlighted.

  Shit.

  “So, you’re working over at Rowdy’s, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  Why did she have to start with that?

  Delaney was tempted to add something like, “But it’s only temporary,” or, “I did finish vet school,” but for once, she waited for the next question.

  “What do I order? What’s my signature drink?” Doctor Rick asked, her mouth full of salad.

  Delaney glanced around the room. More horse paintings, sturdy wooden furniture, everything neat and tidy. She checked the doctor’s shoes. Expensive, but well-worn boots.

  “Newcastle. On tap if they have it. Otherwise, in a bottle with a cold glass.”

  “You’re good.”

  “Yeah. I am. It’s sort of like a specialty.”

  Doctor Rick wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “Why aren’t you a vet?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t ready to commit when I graduated.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  “Yeah,” Delaney said. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Okay. Well, Ms. Collins, I’ll give you a call.”

  ***

  It was worse than she’d anticipated. Not only were Josie and Summer not speaking to her (or texting with her, or anything else), but Delaney had also effectively ended things (not nicely) with Jesse the Rancher and Craig the Kindergarten teacher, and made a fool of herself with both Mitchell and Jake.

  She wanted to feel hopeful about that last job interview. Instead, she felt the now-familiar sense of dread in her stomach. She sat in front of the computer, her alternately scathing and desperate words black on the screen like a fly on a clean window. She could see them but try as she might, she couldn’t get them to disappear.

  Jesse had been so nice, so well-mannered. Why did she have to say anything at all to him? She could have just let it go. But no. She’d ranted: especially while I was eating a ham (also known as pig) sandwich and trying to avert my eyes from the drops of fresh pig blood on your boots. Have a little sensitivity! Apparently, she tried to soften the blow by complimenting his manners: Thank you for showing me that great manners still exist, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you again. I’m not cut out to be a rancher’s wife. As if he’d even want to see her again.

  Her comments to Craig had been even more scathing. Obviously she told him he acted juvenile, like a sixth grader who just discovered what his parts are for and can’t wait to use them, and she wasn’t interested in spending any more time with his balls and club, period. It doesn’t make it any better that you apologized and said you were nervous. I was nervous too. Nervous that I’d run into someone I know, and they’d think I was actually enjoying your stupid sense of humor.

  To Mitchell, she’d written, maybe on our next date we can spend a little longer on top of the water tower. ;)

  Naturally, in the long, flowery, poetic message to Jake, she told him, From the moment I first saw you, I wanted to take off your shirt and run my hands over the muscles in your back while kissing you passionately.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Who talks like that?”

  Reading through her outgoing messages was bad enough. It would only get worse when she read their responses. Knowing she had to face the fire at some point, she bolstered herself and started with Craig. She didn’t want to see him again, anyway.

  It’s fine. You’re an uptight, prissy, washed up bartender, and I’m sure I can find someone who appreciates me just the way I am.

  Says who? Delaney thought, even as the first part of his message burned and she was tempted to text Summer, Josie and her mom to ask if they thought she was uptight and prissy, too.

  Jesse’s message: I’m sorry for having offended you, Miss Delaney. I should have known it was bad manners to discuss a butcher on a first date. But you’re right – I don’t think we’re quite right for each other. I wish you luck.

  That wasn’t so bad. In fact, he was so imperturbable that she felt even worse about last night’s message.

  Mitchell hadn’t responded at all. Delaney felt foolish. He was thinking one of two things, if she had to guess: one, that she was an insane, horny, forward hussy, or two, that he was getting in her pants the next time they saw each other. Or both. That was always a possibility.

  Then there was Jake. She saw the first two words of his message: Wow, Delaney, but couldn’t bring herself to open it right away. Out of all of them, he had the most potential. It would be just like her to go and mess it up before they even got started.

  Her finger hovered over the button of her mouse for a long moment before she finally clicked.

  Well, since we didn’t quite get to that, Jake wrote in response to her smut, I’m hoping we can go there the next time, although I didn’t originally peg you as a girl who’d get down and dirty on the first couple of dates. I’m excited to hear that I may have been wrong about you. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted to … oh, never mind. I’ll just show you. Did I see you coming out of the Teeter Totter last night?

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

  She couldn’t decide whether to be over-the-top excited about Jake’s response, or put off by his excitement over her being a girl who’d get down and dirty on the first couple of dates. Don’t lie to yourself, Collins. You’re excited. Really excited.

  Should she respond to any of them? Probably not. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

  Her cell phone pinged.

  Summer: How’d your interview go?

  Delaney: Good. I got it.

  Summer: You got the job?

  Delaney: No, I got the message that I should stay off the computer. The vet said she’ll call me.

  Summer: Good. I’ll tell Josie. Now do us all a favor and stay off the damn computer.

  That was it. Not sure what to do with herself, she decided to mope for a while. She sat on the couch and picked up a magazine. Pixie wandered in, jumped onto her lap.

  “At least you still love me,” Delaney said.

  The cat meowed, jumped down.

  “Or you’re just hungry.”

  As she fed Pixie, she thought about Summer and Josie. What right did they have to be mad at her? She didn’t have to like every guy they chose for her, did she? She shouldn’t have to endure an hour’s worth of conversation about hog butchering, or an entire mini golf course’s worth of middle school jokes, should she?

  No, not at all. Summer and Josie could be mad at her if they wanted to, but she was holding her ground on this one.

  A tiny voice from somewhere in the far recesses of her reasonable mind whispered that she was only rationalizing because she felt guilty for being so
mean to Jesse and Craig, and stupid for drooling all over Mitchell and Jake. She told it to shut up.

  ***

  Delaney spent the rest of her Friday sulking, accompanied by a box of chocolates and her all-time favorite movie, “Bridget Jones’ Diary.” At work, she sneaked swigs from the wine bottles when no one was looking.

  On Saturday, for the second day in a row, she woke up with a horrible headache, which she drowned in coffee before getting dressed. Although she hadn’t officially gotten a job, she needed to buy a new coat and some reasonable shoes. How’s that for putting it out to the Universe?

  Just as she was leaving the house, Summer texted her, which reminded her to listen to Summer’s CD. Once she loaded it into her car’s CD player, she checked the message: You have a date tonight with Mitchell. He’s intrigued by your offer to spend more time on the water tower. Meet him at Rowdy’s at 7.

  Before she could answer, Josie chimed in: Rules, schmules. Do whatever you want.

  You guys, I’m sorry!

  No answer.

  She’d grovel later. For now, she had shopping to do. And after that, she had to prepare for her second date with Mitchell.

  ***

  Seven o’clock had just passed, so Rowdy’s was still relatively tranquil. A group of younger guys played pool, and another couple occupied the tall table in the corner.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Mitchell said to Delaney. They sat at a table in the back and Delaney was grateful for the darkness.

  “I know. Just tired.”

  “Up late last night, huh?”

  His eyes crinkled and the hint of a smile played around his lips. She felt embarrassed.

  “I went dancing with my friends. Summer and Josie? I mentioned them last time, I think. We’ve been best friends since junior high. Anyway. Josie needed a little cheering up, so we went dancing. That always does the trick.”

  “I think you got a little cheering up, too, judging by that message.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Hey, you called in sick and you show up to drink?” Benjamin said as he approached the table.

  “I didn’t call in sick. I took a mental health day. I seem to recall a certain Benjamin Walker doing that a few months ago after his dog died. You showed up here that night, too. And I practically had to pour you into a bucket to get you in the back of that taxi.”

  “True.” He switched gears. “The usual, then?”

  “Just water, thanks,” Delaney said.

  “Hair of the dog,” Benjamin said in a sing-songy voice.

  Delaney declined the offer again, so Benjamin shrugged and turned to Mitchell, who ordered a Bud Light.

  They sat quietly for a couple of minutes, while the jukebox blared out something about pickup trucks. Mostly, Delaney stared into her water glass, noticing the tiny black flecks in her ice cubes. She wondered whether Summer and Josie were still mad at her. Couldn’t they just forgive her, already?

  Could she even forgive herself?

  Why, oh why, did she go home last night and make the infantile decision to get on the computer? It was like drunk dialing, except the messages were right there, fully visible. Illuminated, even. At first, she’d felt somewhat piqued when she discovered Summer and Josie were angry at her. But now her resolve weakened. Maybe they had a point. She couldn’t make good choices on her own. But why?

  “Look, Mitchell, I’ve got to go.”

  “What? We just got here.”

  “Can I take a rain check? I’m just not feeling like myself.”

  ***

  After the last snowstorm, temperatures in Juniper shot up, and people switched over to short-sleeved shirts and sandals. Delaney even painted her toenails. Now, just after seven-thirty, it was dark and a definite springtime chill skidded across her skin as she exited Rowdy’s. Her ears buzzed from the loud music.

  Mitchell had been understanding, she thought. He’d sensed something was wrong from the moment they sat down at Rowdy’s. At this very moment he was probably thinking she was a crazy, moody woman.

  Maybe she was. She was also mortified. Pausing in front of one of the downtown art galleries, Delaney wondered when she’d grow up enough to buy a real oil painting as a living room centerpiece, or a blown-glass vase to put in the dining room. Something permanent.

  At some point, she had to stop decorating with “eclectic clearance” from all over Juniper.

  Then it hit her: was “eclectic clearance” the story of her love life? The girls were right. Most of the men she dated were cast-offs of some kind. She took them all in, used them to add color and flavor to her collection. The parallel was too much to bear, so she moved on to the next shop.

  The shelves inside the Paws-n-Whiskers window offered up human-like treats for four-legged companions. The mini donuts, cupcakes and cookies looked good enough to eat, Delaney thought. A colorful display of dog strollers sat inside the picture window, waiting to be wheeled onto the sidewalk as soon as the store opened the next day. At the rate Delaney was going, she was going to need one of those strollers. She pictured herself forty years from now, still single, wheeling her cats (lots of them) around the downtown square in a stroller.

  “Oh, my God,” she said aloud. A feeling of doom settled over her as she imagined eating frozen TV meals alone on the couch at age sixty, seventy and eighty. She was destined to be alone and lonely forever.

  Festive music tumbled out the open door of Eddie’s Pizzeria. The big windows cast warm, inviting light on the sidewalk. Delaney didn’t want to spend too long standing there, but a hearty – and familiar – laugh grabbed her attention.

  Jake Rhoades sat at a two-person table right in the middle of the restaurant. As Delaney passed, he looked up. Although she put her head down and picked up her pace, it took her just a split second too long. He spotted her. She pretended not to see him.

  Just as she passed the open door and smelled the spice of tomato sauce with a healthy dose of garlic, Jake stepped out.

  “Delaney. I’ve been hoping to talk to you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Was it possible to sink into the sidewalk and disappear? The last he’d heard from her was when she’d written him that lewd message on FindLove.com.

  Delaney closed her eyes, willing the ground to swallow her up. It’d probably choke on me. She opened her eyes. Jake was right in front of her now, his hand on her arm. The scents of cheese and fresh-baked pizza crust followed him out and enveloped her in a warm cloud.

  “Hey,” she said, blinking rapidly to keep herself from crying.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’ll give you three guesses.”

  “Okay. I like this game. First guess. You’re heading back to the Teeter Totter.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her mind hastily tried to remember whether she’d glimpsed him last night when she was coming out of the Teeter Totter. He said something in his FriendZoo message. She didn’t have time to ask, though, because he plowed ahead.

  “Okay, sorry,” he said. “Second guess. You’re going to meet someone for a drink.”

  She scowled.

  He grimaced.

  “Hmm, that one’s no good. You’re probably taking tonight off, right?”

  “Isn’t your date waiting on you?” she said.

  “What? Oh. My brother? Nah. He’s used to me running into women everywhere we go. He’s fine. Only kidding,” he added quickly. “Besides,” he leaned back to look in the door of Eddie’s, “I think he has a thing for our server. He’s probably been waiting for me to leave so he could hit on her. So. What are you doing?”

  “I’m walking home.”

  “Can I join you? Maybe you’ll cook for me. I saw you at Country Kitchen and wondered what you’d look like standing in my kitchen with a glass of wine and a thick steak. Maybe an apron with nothing underneath. Some music.”

  So that’s what he was thinking while he stood there. She shivered.

  “Listen, Jake. That messag
e last night – I didn’t mean it. I mean, I meant it, but I wouldn’t have said it if the girls and I hadn’t gone out.”

  “So you’re telling me you’re not inviting me home to ravish me?” he said.

  “I didn’t even invite you. And how did you know I was at The Teeter Totter?”

  “Do you want to? Invite me, I mean?”

  She didn’t answer, and started walking instead.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her arm. “Wait right here.”

  Jake pulled his wallet out of his pocket, slid out a twenty and ran it in to his brother, who turned around to gawk at Delaney as Jake rejoined her outside, falling into step with her.

  “So, what’s eating at you?” he said.

  “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “You don’t look a thing like the Delaney Collins I had dinner with the other night. Or the one I saw coming out of the Teeter Totter last night. Or the one I met outside of Porky’s.”

  “Do I have to tell you?”

  “Nope.” He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.

  They walked a block, past another art gallery, the hat shop, a kids boutique. As they came to the corner of Main Street and State Avenue, Jake folded his hand around hers. The gesture was romantic and surprisingly comforting.

  “Are you wooing me right now?” she asked, smiling up at him despite her bad mood.

  They stepped off the curb in unison.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “It’s been a long time since someone held my hand.”

  “How does it feel?” he said.

  “Nice,” she said.

  “So, how are you? I mean, besides whatever’s eating at you.”

  “Good,” she said. “I had a good job interview yesterday. Spent the day shopping for essentials.”

  “What job?”

  They stopped at the next intersection to let several cars turn in front of them. The lawn on the downtown square was packed for the first time in months. Delaney watched a couple of kids kicking a soccer ball around in the fading light.