Accidental Roommate

by Katie Kyler

  I remembered how one of the in-person interviews had gone. “Joshua,” the reporter had simpered, “you’ve long been considered one of Philadelphia’s most eligible bachelors. Surely you weren’t hurting for a date.”

  “A date, no,” Joshua had replied. “But love, yes. It was hard to find someone who wasn’t blinded by my status…I was craving connection on a deeper level.” He’d pulled me tight next to him then. “Scintilla introduced me to Allison and finally allowed me to do that.”

  “But you’d already been introduced, hadn’t you?” the reporter asked. “Wasn’t Allison—isn’t Allison still—one of your employees?”

  “The truth of it is, I’d overlooked her,” Joshua responded with a sheepish grin.

  The reporter had turned to me for confirmation.

  “It’s true,” I said. “We barely knew each other except to exchange banal pleasantries. I wasn’t even on his radar.”

  “I bet it was a pleasant surprise when you learned your Scintilla match was someone you worked with!” the reporter said with a smile. Joshua and I both laughed, hiding the fact that it hadn’t been nearly that pleasant. Overall, though, each interview had gone really well, and each had accomplished what we’d wanted them to do: highlight our site and the services it offers.

  This new article was close to the same as the others, although this site had somehow gotten a new photo of the two of us…one in which Joshua was caressing my shoulder, if I remembered correctly, but the angle of the shot made it look as if he was palming my breast. I texted back, Nice catch, grabby.

  He texted back a smiley face.

  I didn’t mind the photo. It was an awkward angle, and no one would really think he was grabbing my breasts in public. Besides, this was more publicity, and publicity, where Scintilla was concerned, had only been a good thing. In the past month, with every article that came out about me and Joshua, the site’s usage had skyrocketed, and the number and frequency of app downloads had exceeded my wildest dreams. Although plenty of people were using the free version of the app, which came with limited capabilities, many, many more had signed up for matchmaking services and had access to the deluxe version of the app.

  I closed the browser window and started up my computer. There were at least a hundred company emails demanding my attention. I’d need some more coffee to deal with it all. Through my nearly-closed blinds, I caught sight of a dark head of hair at Joshua’s height heading in the direction of the break room. Maybe Joshua was getting coffee, too. I smiled and left my office, headed in his direction.

  I whirled through the break room door. “Hey, sexy,” I said, a smile on my lips.

  He turned around, a look of disgust on his face. It wasn’t Joshua getting coffee—it was Jamie. Our last interaction played through my head—his ugly words, the way he’d swiped my stacked papers from the conference table. When had things gone so wrong between us? How had it happened?

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, cautiously. “Good morning.”

  He grunted.

  Mature. Real mature. My emotions were a mixture of anger and hurt. We used to get along so well, joking around. While I hadn’t lived for his smiles or anything, I’d genuinely enjoyed his company. I thought of turning right around and leaving the break room, hiding out in my office. But this was my break room, too. Why should I have to hide? And why should I step down from confrontation and pretend nothing was wrong? Something was obviously wrong with him, and I was tired of hiding out. Maybe it was time to speak plainly.

  I cleared my throat and smoothed down my skirt. “You know, you never did congratulate me for the VP position.”

  He didn’t turn around. He just spoke to the coffee machine. “At least I approved it.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. His approval would’ve been token, anyway—Joshua’s position as CEO counted for more than Jamie’s as co-owner.

  “I would’ve hoped for more than that,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I would’ve hoped you’d be happy for me, since we’re friends.”

  He spun around and fixed me with a glare. “Congratulations.”

  Coffee in hand, he marched from the room.

  The expression on his face looked way too familiar. It felt familiar, because the expression mirrored my own. He was hurt and angry, just like I was.

  Maybe he missed me, too, just like I missed him.

  It made me think that there was some hope, a chance, maybe, to make this better. If I could fix this between us, maybe I could get my friend back. And if I could do that, the man I loved wouldn’t be alienated from his brother anymore.

  Chapter 2

  Joshua

  Chris threw a dart at the board, hitting pretty close to the bull’s eye. He rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to be going first,” he crowed.

  I ignored the taunt and lined up at the throw line. Holding the dart lightly, I aimed. Chris coughed just as I let go of the barrel, but it didn’t faze me. My dart stuck closer to the center and I nodded with satisfaction. A couple of blondes at a table nearby raised their colorful martinis in a salute. I nodded at them, too. Not a smile—I didn’t want it interpreted the wrong way.

  I held my next dart, lining up my throw.

  Chris fake coughed again. I rolled my eyes and tossed the dart anyway. Not the best shot, but not the worst, either.

  “That’s fuckin’ poor sportsmanship,” I said, whacking Chris lightly on the back of the head.

  “That’s what makes this game so damn fun,” he replied with a smile, whacking me back. “Uh oh, speaking of games…”

  The two blondes from the nearby table had gotten up and were walking over toward us. They looked like sex personified—all luscious curves and red lips and fuck-me heels.

  I looked at Chris, feeling panicked. I didn’t need this tonight. Or any night. I had Allison.

  “This is all you, man,” Chris said. “They’re not interested in me.”

  “But I’m not interested in them,” I said. “Don’t you dare leave me here, man.”

  Chris held up his empty pint glass. “I’ll get us another round. You deal with Hot Thing One and Hot Thing Two.”

  As the women maneuvered over to me, bending and twisting to dodge occupied chairs and tables, all I could do was compare them to Allison and mentally list the ways that they fell short. Their breasts were all wrong. Too high, too large. Allison’s breasts were one hundred percent natural and the perfect handfuls. Their make-up looked like it was trying to make them fit into one ideal of beauty—my old ideal, if I was being honest with myself. Allison’s make-up accentuated the good parts of her that were already there—her sexy smattering of freckles, her deep blue eyes. Their dresses left little to the imagination, which would be fun if I were still that guy.

  But I wasn’t that guy anymore. I was Allison’s guy.

  “Hey, handsome,” one of the women said. Her voice was low and throaty, a bedroom voice.

  I was struck again by what Jeremy had said at dinner with Allison and Jess—that they were classy, and money couldn’t buy class. He was exactly right.

  “We come as a set,” the other said. “What do you think about getting out of here—”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “I’m seeing someone who more than meets my needs. But go order yourselves another round. It’s on me.”

  They pouted prettily, and Bedroom Voice said, “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be right over there.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t smile, and I turned back to the darts. I’d kill Chris for abandoning me.

  Chris came back with our beers, giving me that shit-eating grin. “Did you just turn down all of that?”

  “Yeah.” I lined my darts up along the edge of the table.

  “So Allison’s it for you, then?”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  He didn’t look at me, instead lining up his own darts. “That’s awesome, man. Does she know?”

  I took a swig of beer. “I think so.”

  H
e stared off into space for a minute, then grabbed a dart and lined up at the throw line. “Is it everything you’d hoped?”

  I waited until he was just about to let go of his dart and then shouted, “Yes!”

  His throw went wild. “You made my dart land off the island, you bastard,” he said.

  I laughed and handed him his next dart. “I won’t do it again. Just seemed fair, though, after all of your coughing.”

  “What? I can’t help it if I’m coming down with something.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed, “you’re coming down with a losing streak.”

  The idea of losing made me think of Jamie, and how much he’d seemed to be losing control lately. “Hey, Chris,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  He lined up and took his next shot.

  “Have you noticed anything strange about Jamie lately?”

  He exhaled loudly, threw his dart, and hit the bull’s eye. “You mean, how he’s been a jealous asshole ever since Allison became VP?”

  I rubbed my hand over my face. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Yeah, that obvious.”

  “Do you think I did the right thing in promoting her? She deserves it, but maybe I should’ve gone about it differently.”

  “Yes, Allison sure as hell deserved the promotion. She’s a marketing and idea wizard. She’s brought this amazing energy to the company—I know you’ve seen it, too.”

  Yes, I’d seen it. I nodded that he should go on.

  “So, don’t flay me for talking shit about your brother, but he needs to step up his game if he wants to succeed. He hasn’t given anyone a single usable idea since he’s been there.”

  “I think he knows that.” I lined up to take my shot at the dart board. The barrel was smooth between my thumb and forefinger. When I let it loose, Chris didn’t make a sound, but I missed the shot. “Fuck. I think I’m too hard on him.”

  Chris’s next shot won the match. As loser, I had to buy a round, so I ordered us some whiskey. When I got back to our table, a man and woman, obviously out on a first date from the hesitant way they were looking and acting with each other, gathered the darts to use the board. She obviously knew what she was doing and how to throw; he obviously did not. I watched them, curious how it would play out. Would he allow her to teach him, or would he get all macho and pretend he knew what he was doing?

  Chris clinked my glass with his. “To women.”

  “To women.”

  He took a long drink. “You know,” he said, his voice low and mumbling, “I can’t believe a dick like you met the perfect girl.”

  “Ha. Thanks, friend.”

  “You know I don’t mean it like that.” He loosened his tie. “I just always thought I’d be the one to settle down. I thought it would be with Maria, you know.”

  I sat back. He’d never talked about his ex-girlfriend, even when they were dating. Maybe he’d thought I was too immature to understand, since I was still collecting women like cars. When Chris and Maria broke up, he sort of shut down for a while. He’d play darts with me every couple of weeks, but he didn’t even laugh for months.

  “How long were you two together?” I asked.

  “Two years.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. I should’ve known something was up, though. She never wanted to talk about the future. She seemed more concerned with whether I was paying enough attention to her. Whether I was taking her out as much as her friends’ boyfriends were taking them out. Where we were going, whether we’d be seen there. She’d put photos of us up on social media, saying where we’d gone and what we’d had to eat. I was a fucking status update to her, not a boyfriend.”

  I’d dated that type, too, although mine were never long-term. I was more of an end-goal, not a hope for the future. I could remember being tagged in status updates like I was some kind of prize or bucket list item. I’d never cared, though, because I had been using those women just like they’d been using me.

  Chris rubbed his face, dragging his palm over the stubble. Then he took another long, careful drink. “At the time,” he continued, “I didn’t know any of that. I just thought I loved her. Problem is, I don’t see myself loving anyone like that ever again.”

  He finished his whiskey and we watched the couple playing darts. The man deserved props—he was letting his date show him how to hold the arrow and how to let it go. It was hard to give in like that sometimes, but for the right woman, that loss of control and admitting you don’t know everything—it could be worth it. It was worth it, with Allison. Sometimes I felt like I was floundering, totally out of control. She brought that out in me, but she grounded me at the same time.

  I wanted that for everyone. Especially Chris.

  “I think you should keep trying,” I told him. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’ve been with me since before Scintilla, before all this shit with Jamie. And you deserve to find the right girl.”

  Chris stared into his empty glass. I thought of getting another round, but he looked too miserable. This guy needed coffee and Prozac or some shit like that, not more depressants.

  “I wouldn’t even know where to look,” he said. “None of the women that go to the places I go are my type.”

  “Maybe you should try going to different places.”

  We were quiet for a minute, watching the dart players. They’d finished their match, and the woman pushed the man into a chair and climbed into his lap. Oh, the rewards of being humble and teachable were great, I thought, watching her thread her fingers through his hair. I was starting to miss Allison something fierce.

  But Chris was watching them, too, and he was looking lonely and miserable.

  “Hey,” I said, snapping my fingers. “There’s this great dating app you could try. Ever heard of Scintilla?”

  Chris snorted and flicked the outside of his empty glass. “Yeah. You’re just trying to get more people to download the app.”

  “Have you seen the numbers? I don’t need more people to download it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen the numbers. I fuckin’ compile those reports for you, don’t I?”

  “So think about it, dumbass,” I said. “It helped me find ‘The One.’ Maybe it’ll help you, too.”

  Chris would probably never admit it, but he looked sort of thoughtful. He looked like I imagined I had looked when I first watched that Scintilla commercial and decided to give my own company a try.

  Chapter 3

  Allison

  I leaned back against the arm of the couch, balancing my laptop—and Bub—on my legs. I certainly wasn’t the poster girl for good office ergonomics, but I’d been at my desk for most of the morning, and now I just wanted to laze around in my yoga capris and feel comfortable. Because of how well Scintilla and the app were doing, Joshua had given everyone a half day off as a thank-you.

  I, however, still wanted to work. He’d had to chase me from the office, telling me to go relax, and promising we could get together later.

  Typing in my password to access the site, I clicked on Admin. A few keystrokes later, and I was eyeballing the various single men and women who had created profiles.

  I started by looking for common interests. Not everything had to be the same, but a couple could maybe bond over their mutual passion for anime, or noir films, or birdwatching. If they had one thing to do together, it was a start. But once I’d found a few people interested in, say, anime, I’d next look at who might be a match based on personality types. It got tricky here, because not everyone took the same personality assessments. Also, maybe within the anime group, there wouldn’t be any matches. It could be that none of these anime enthusiasts would be compatible. I’d have to investigate other common interests for those people. It sounded tedious, but I loved it.

  This wasn’t my job, but it was my favorite part of the company—bringing lonely people together. It reminded me why Scintilla existed. The matchmaking site had never been just an easy way to make income for Tolbert & Tolbert. It
had been Joshua’s dream.

  After staring at the anime lovers’ profiles for an hour or so, I came up with four matches. I notified each personally that they’d received Sparks. Congratulations—you have a Spark! Click here to send the first message and learn more about your match.

  Now, it was up to them. Would they be brave enough to make contact? Would those contacted be brave enough to respond? I remembered when EdensNomad had first contacted me—the rush I’d felt, the flurry of indecision. And finally, how I’d been brave and answered his message.

  One of the best decisions of my life.

  My phone chimed next to me. It was Jess. Wow, it must’ve been the middle of the night in France. She’d gone back with Jeremy last week, since he’d lined up more fashion show spots for her.

  “Alls!” She yelled so loud that I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

  “What on earth…?” I said. “Jess?”

  “You’ll never guess where I am.”

  “Paris, France.”

  “No, my beautiful nerd friend, I am…well, yes. I’m in Paris. But more specifically, I am at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “Isn’t it midnight there?”

  “Yes. It is. And the moon is shining brightly, reflecting off of my—”

  She didn’t need to say it. My eyes filled with tears of happiness. But I let her finish the sentence.

  “—my sparkly new engagement ring.”

  We screamed together. “Congratulations, Jess!” I yelled. Bub jumped off of my lap, looking indignant. “This is so, so great!”

  I could hear her crying on the other end of the line, which made me start crying, too. But we were also both laughing. Jeremy’s voice was in the background, sounding mildly alarmed as he asked her if she was okay.

  “Congratulations, Jess,” I said. Bub came over and rubbed against my hand, so I scratched behind his ears. “Let’s talk more tomorrow. Get back to Jeremy before he takes you to the hospital or something.”