Proud of myself, I gather my things, careful not to knock over any furniture this time as I get up and leave Jeff behind. Abby is going to love this story. I'm not sure what's funnier... me knocking him over before we even introduced ourselves, or the fact I just told off a complete stranger for hitting on me.
4
Kyle
Hope was waiting for me when I came home on Wednesday night. I forgot she was coming over until I pulled in my driveway and saw her car was parked out front. I really need to get that key back from her. It wasn't hers to begin with. Kristen was nice enough to return her key through the mail. Hope happened to see the envelope on the counter and ripped it in half. The key fell on the countertop, and she claimed it as her own.
She still has the envelope and the letter that was also ripped in half in the process. She won't tell me what it said. She claims she'll give it to me at some point, but I'm not ready to read it yet. Truthfully, I'm not sure I ever want to. Curiosity is the only reason I even asked her about it. If I never hear her name, have to see her, or think of her again for the rest of my life, I'll die a happy man.
"In here," Hope hollers when she hears me close the front door.
"Where is here?" I ask, screwing with her like I normally do.
"Asshole," she hollers.
Walking into the kitchen, I spot her seated with her back to me at the table, her face in her laptop. As quietly as possible, I sneak up behind her and grab her shoulders, causing her to jump out of her chair. I try to run before she attacks me, but she's quick on her feet. She swats at me as I run toward my room.
"You're such a jerk, Kyle. You know I hate being scared."
"And that's what makes it so much fun," I reply, grinning at her as I close and lock my door before she can attack me again.
As soon as I'm changed, I head back to find Hope seated at the kitchen table again, this time with her back in the corner. Smart woman. She knows I would have tried to scare her again.
"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask, feigning stupidity. I know exactly why she's here. I'd rather not remember, but it's hard to forget when you sister tells you she wrote to some love expert about your situation.
"Well, Maggie answered my question in today's column. You promised—"
"I know," I say, cutting her off. "What does it say?"
A huge smile spreads across Hope's face as she turns her laptop toward me. Taking a seat across the table from her, I read for myself what the infamous Maggie has to say about my dire situation.
"I can't believe you called her a gold-digger. Not that it's a lie, but still. You know she reads the column, right?"
"Of course I do. Who do you think got her hooked on it? We were friends once, remember? Or did your brain block that out too?"
Glaring at Hope, I don't bother to say anything. She knows I'm trying to forget about the four years I spent with Kristen in my life. From the time I met her to our wedding day, I'm slowly attempting to erase her from my memories. It's not going as quickly as I'd like. I still remember the day Hope introduced us. I remember our first date. First kiss. First time we made love. The day she moved in with me.
The memory that haunts me the most is the day I proposed to her. I didn't know it until later, but she was already sleeping with Ron at the time. She had been for months. She could have said no, broken my heart then. Nope. She's a sadistic bitch. She spent almost twenty thousand dollars on a wedding she never intended on showing up to.
Focusing my attention back on Hope's laptop, I read Maggie's response and roll my eyes. Of course she agrees with Hope. Of all the things she could have said, all the things she could have recommended, she went with a dating website.
"So, do you want to set up your profile or do you want me to?" Hope asks, a sly grin on her face. She's won this round, and she knows it.
"What if we—"
"No."
"But I was thinking-"
"No."
"Hope, I think—"
"No! Kyle, you agreed. I'm sure you hate this idea, but I'm putting my foot down. I'm not going to let you sit here and mope any longer. If you do, she wins. Every day you shut yourself in, she wins. Every day you avoid getting back out there, she wins. The last thing I want to see happen is her winning. Never again. She doesn't deserve it."
There are tears in her eyes when she finishes. As much as I don't want to do this, I want to break her heart even less. She's been there for me, even when I didn't want her to be, for as long as I can remember. Even before Kristen.
I can do this. If not for me, I can do it for her.
"Okay. Let's do this," I reply, reaching over and wiping away the single tear she let escape. "I don't trust you to set up my profile, though. We can do that together."
"Fine. But I get to decide what picture you use."
"Deal."
Two hours later, Hope is rushing out the door to pick up Monica and Erin from soccer practice, twenty minutes late. My profile is almost complete, but now that I'm on my own, I can change some of the things that Hope made me put on there.
For example... "Looking for a nice girl" is not why I'm on this site.
At first, I put the truth, that my sister is forcing me to sign up. I delete that immediately, knowing Hope is probably going to check on my profile at some point in time.
After a few failed attempts at being humorous, I get honest, too honest, and put the real reason I'm signing up, leaving Hope out of the equation.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I head out back to enjoy the setting sun. My backyard, or lack thereof, is my sanctuary.
When I first saw the price tag on the property, I was shocked. The view was amazing but I wasn't sure I wanted to put up that kind of money just for the property. Now that the house is complete, it was worth it. The house makes the view even more beautiful.
Tonight, the lake is clear as glass. The sunset is reflecting off the water. It's quiet. Now that all the neighborhood kids are back in school, weeknights are often this way. Over the summer, they would still be splashing in the water. Boats would just be coming in for the night. People would be grilling food, music floating on the breeze.
I love the summer nights, but I appreciate these nights more. The quiet of night was a scary place for me not that long ago. I was alone with my thoughts. As they began to become less cloudy, so did the night sky, welcoming the summer.
As much as I tell Hope I'm not ready to date, it's more that I don't want to. I'm ready. I've been ready for a while. I don't want to because I don't want to fall in love again. I don't want to be hurt again. It's not worth it.
Dear Maggie,
* * *
I caught my boyfriend watching porn the other night. Is it because we're not having sex yet? Our relationship is still new, and I'm honestly not ready. I want to be with him, but all I can see when I close my eyes right now is what I walked in on the other night. Now I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. He wants to talk about it, but I'm afraid to call him back. What am I supposed to say?
* * *
~Gigi
Gigi,
* * *
I hate to say it, but porn is as natural to some men as breathing. It's a part of their life. If your relationship is still in the infant stages, maybe this is his way of not pressuring you to move things to the next level. You should call him, talk about it, and find a way to resolve the underlying fear that you have. I can't tell you what you should say, but I'm confident that once the conversation is started, you'll know what needs to be said. Above everything, be honest with him.
* * *
~Maggie
5
Lauren
After my short-lived date with Jeff, I was skeptical to accept another. I knew I needed to get this research done and if I only based everything on my experience with Jeff, things could get ugly. I still get pissed when I think about him. What an ass.
I went on a date with a nice guy named Tyler last night. He was polite. Opened doors for me and the conver
sation didn't seem forced. By the end of the night, I was having a good time. That was until he kissed me.
I've been kissed before. By plenty of guys. Some I had no interest in and others I prayed would kiss me long before they actually did.
This kiss caught me by surprise.
Not wanting things to end as poorly as they did with Jeff, I didn't push him away. Big mistake. I thought it was only going to be a soft, sweet peck. And it was… until his tongue darted in my mouth and he attempted to suck my face off. Literally.
It felt like he was sucking on my face.
That's never happened before.
When I finally was able to push him away, my natural instincts kicked in and I slapped him across the face. Instead of looking surprised or acting hurt, he grinned at me. Evilly and sadistically grinned at me.
Whatever show he put on was all a front for what he really wanted. The same thing Jeff wanted, only Jeff didn't try as hard. He went in for the kill too early. Tyler waited for the perfect moment to strike. Neither got what they really wanted.
Tonight, it's a guy named Matt. I'm not sure what to expect, but I do know that my guard is going to be up. He seems polite based on his messages. He's my age, just graduated from the local culinary institute and is working in a restaurant, studying under a well-known chef.
As long as he doesn't invite me back to his place for dinner, things will be fine.
"Matt?" I ask, walking up to the only person sitting at the bar.
"Are you Lauren?"
"Hi. It's nice to meet you," I say, extending my hand.
"I'm not Matt. Matt's my roommate. My name's Chad. Matt got called into work and asked me to meet you so that you didn't have to eat alone. He even gave me his credit card, so dinner's on him tonight."
"Oh. You didn't have to do that. I can just meet up with him some other time."
Really? He sent someone in his place? Why not just cancel on me? That would have been a lot easier, and cheaper, than sending someone else. Plus, I don't even know who the hell this guy is.
"It's really not a big deal. Plus, I love this place. They have some great food." Waving over the bartender, he cashes out his tab. "Let's grab a table."
"Uh—"
"I won't bite, I promise. It's just dinner."
He's making eye contact. Unless he's the best liar I've ever met, he's not interested in me one bit. This could work in my favor.
"Sure. Why the hell not?"
After we're seated and Chad orders an expensive bottle of wine, I lay my cards on the table. I don't have to beat around the bush with him. He's not really my date.
"So, girlfriend?"
"Nope. She broke up with me a few months ago to pursue her dreams of becoming an actress. She moved to LA, and apparently, there was no room in her life for me."
"You sound a little bitter," I reply, taking notice of his tone.
"I am. I was getting ready to propose when she told me. The ring was in my pocket and everything. I thought she was the one, but I was wrong."
"Want me to make you feel a little better about it?" I ask.
"That depends. What kind of date are you?"
"No," I laugh, "not like that. I was going to share a story with you."
"Damn. And here I thought I was going to get lucky," he replies, emphasizing his sarcasm.
"If I tell you, you can't tell Matt, though. I would feel bad if he knew."
"Okay. Unless it's too god not to share. Then I can't make any promises."
"I'll just have to trust that it's not that good, I guess."
Nodding for me to continue, I tell Matt who I really am. I’m breaking the confidentiality agreement, but this feels right. He's the first person I've told aside from Abby, but she doesn't count. I tell her everything and she has no idea how big of a deal Maggie is around here. She's a local goddess to some.
"So you were going out on a date with Matt for research?" he asks, holding in his laughter.
"Yes. That's why you can't tell him. I don't want to hurt his feelings."
"And no one knows that you're writing this love column?"
"No one except you, my boss, and my best friend, Abby,” I say, taking a sip of the sweet red wine he ordered for us.
"Is she single?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Nope. Married with a kid."
"Damn. Why are all the good ones taken? Wait, you're not taken..."
He lets his voice trail off, and for the first time tonight, I get nervous. Then he starts laughing. Deep down, I knew he was joking, but my insecurities from the last few dates started to rear their ugly heads.
"Knock that shit off. You'll find someone. Maybe you should ask Maggie about your situation," I suggest.
"Maybe I will… when she returns. I hear the chick running her column right now is crazy. She's dating a bunch of guys for research. Sounds to me like she's in the wrong line of work,” he says, taking a serious tone but unable to hold back his award-winning grin.
"You have no idea," I reply, holding back my laughter. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?"
"For showing up. For standing in for Matt. This is the most fun I've had since I started this crazy journey. If all the guys I went on dates with were as much fun as you are, I would enjoy my research a little more. It's been more interesting than fun so far."
"Do tell," he says, leaning across the table.
I can't help but laugh as I launch into details about my "date" with Jeff. He gets a kick out of the fact I grabbed his crotch before formally introducing myself. Then I tell him about Tyler. He makes a sucking sound for five minutes after the story’s over, causing me to snort, which makes him laugh.
"You know what your problem is, Lauren?"
"I'm dying to find out," I reply sarcastically.
"You're researching dating instead of dating. The next time someone asks you out, go out with them. Without your notepad and list of questions. Just go on a date and try to enjoy yourself. Not too much. I would hate to see your dead body on the news."
As funny as Chad is, he has a point. I need to start looking at this differently. If it's about research, I'm never going to get the full experience. Time to change things up a little.
Abby exploded with laughter when I read her the question I had to answer. Porn. Of course someone had to ask me a question about porn. I've never seen it. I have no idea why a person would be inclined to watch two other people have sex. Abby claims there's more to it than the act of watching it, but I begged her not to elaborate.
Thankfully, she didn't. She explained why she thought a man might watch porn in that situation. I took notes. Actual notes on a piece of paper. Instead of writing out the dirty words she used, I abbreviated, making my notes harder to interpret later on.
Abby suggested I "research" it before writing my column. I couldn't even tell her no without blushing bright red. My cheeks were on fire for hours after our conversation.
Mr. Phelps claims the column was a success for the second time on Monday morning. This time, there was one negative comment he let me read before it was deleted from the website. Some jackass claimed porn was wrong and that the guy should be ashamed of himself. I may not watch it myself, but to each their own. I would never judge another person for enjoying it, especially if I've never seen for myself what the appeal is.
I spent Monday afternoon searching the multitude of submitted questions, trying to decide which I would feel most comfortable answering in the next column. There were a few that I placed in the maybe file. A lot when into the "hell no" file. And only two landed in the "I can do this" file.
As I'm about to leave the office and head home for the night, my phone alerts me to a new message. The dating app lets me know when someone sends me a message, and as helpful as it sounds, it's annoying as hell. I've started deleting messages left and right. The crazies started coming out of the woodwork over the weekend. I had a seventy-year-old man send me a message asking me to marry him, claiming he was f
ilthy rich and would leave me his fortune in return for companionship.
Yeah, not gonna happen, buddy. Thanks for asking.
Pulling my phone from my purse as the elevator door slide closed, I scroll through my messages and stop short when one catches my interest.
Hey! Thought you might want to grab a bite to eat. I see you're new in town, and I know some of the best hidden gems. Let me know.
He looks cute. His profile says he's an architect, local, and twenty-eight. What really impresses me is it says he's not looking for love, just someone to hang out with and share a meal with every now and then.
He's perfect.
No concern for attachment.
He seems honest, almost too much.
The fact he says he's not looking for love could deter people from wanting to go out with him. Me? I think it makes him the best candidate so far. I decide to message him back.
Hi! I'd love to get dinner. When and where? I'm leaving work right now and am usually done by four or five every day.
I keep it short and simple. This guy seems too good to be true. He's exactly the type of guy I need to do some research on. Finding out why he's not interested in starting a relationship is going to be tricky. I can't sound like I'm interviewing him; he'll think something's up. I can't tell him that I'm the voice behind Dear Maggie right now even though I doubt he's a reader. The majority of her following is female, almost ninety-eight percent. Still, I’ll have to play it cool.
That's not something I do very well.
Last time I went on a “real” date with a guy, he compared our conversation to a job interview. In my defense, I was just trying to get to know him a little better. He seemed like someone I might have been compatible with, but he wasn't providing me with any information, so I had to dig a little deeper. It's not like I asked that many personal questions.
Dating Dilemma Page 3