Eye of the Tiger

by Melanie Greene

  Natalie emitted a snort worthy of the polka-ing pig and turned away.

  Evan leaned over her shaking shoulders to ask, "Did you notice the accordion player has a pork-pie hat?"

  She spun long enough to glare at him, then sidled past a column to an emptier space.

  Evan followed. "Can I get you a glass of swine?"

  As Natalie shook her head, Evan took in the high curve on her cheek. Her lips were pursed when she finally faced him. "These people are your friends, you know. I'm not the one who'll be in trouble when you make me laugh at their exhibition."

  He shrugged. "Don't even know the woman, or the artist. Just Luke, and--"

  "And what?" asked Luke, interrupting Evan's chance to enjoy Natalie's perfume.

  "And he's a terribly friendly guy who would never stop me from the pleasure of making Natalie laugh," Evan said, moving back to include a third person in their little duo. "Natalie East, Luke Blackburn. Luke, this is Natalie."

  "Good to meet you." Luke offered a hand.

  "Likewise. Have you found your other friend yet?"

  The tips of Luke's ears went pink as he shook his head. "Krista, that's my sister, texted me a photo." He showed them.

  "Over there," Evan pointed, and Luke went still, his only sign of life the flush spreading across his neck and cheeks.

  Natalie smiled up at the lump of concrete that used to be Evan's coworker. "She looks friendly. Come on, let's go say hello."

  And there went Evan's wildflowers, linked arm and arm with the blushing concrete.

  Leticia was indeed friendly, which was a good thing. Poor Luke, who had been all shades of pale when Nat met him--light blonde hair, milky skin, ivory shirt--had gone so red even his hair seemed to darken. Or it might be the gallery lighting. Though Evan's appearance hadn't changed as he moved through the space. He was still one well-sprinkled cupcake. Bright and pretty and scrumptious.

  Natalie steered Leticia and Luke away from Evan. She didn't need to be thinking about his frosting. Cupcakes were empty calories, and Natalie wanted a hearty meal. "Introduce me to the artist. This is a large show, isn't it?"

  Leticia, who was catering manager for a local chain of restaurants and knew a bit about city events, latched onto the topic as the three of them wove in and out of the crowd. She was more than a head shorter than Luke, which meant plenty of his stooping down to hear her, and her looking up into his face, and it was adorable. He was smiling, and his blush had relaxed. When he glanced Natalie's way and she winked at him, Luke ducked his head, but didn't go red again. She let her conversation with a couple of painters serve as a detachment point, and caught sight of Leticia and Luke drifting away together, body language still engaged.

  "Job well done," the cupcake said a few minutes later, handing her a glass of white wine.

  "I do my best."

  He took a sip of his own wine, made a face. "What is this swill?"

  Natalie let herself laugh. "Throw it in the slop bucket."

  "You are just bacon to get us kicked out of here."

  She shook her head slowly. "I can't believe you. What happened to Mr. Smart and Thoughtful your parents told me about?"

  "I thought hard about those puns."

  "It shows," she deadpanned.

  "Oh, a direct hit." He pressed an elegant hand to his heart. "You're harsher than the wine. I'm up for retreating, if you're ready. Do you want to come in my car?"

  Natalie eyed him a moment. Something about him was too easy for her. Maybe because she knew Marisa and Koray, and there were touches of each of them in their son. Marisa's tendency towards self-deprecation, plus her tendency to tighten her cheeks for a second before giving in to a smile. Koray's eyebrows. Evan's weren't as bushy as Koray's, but she could imagine them growing shaggier with age, and his sleek dark hair going the same silver-white as his father's. It all added up to a sense of familiarity that was unfamiliar, this early in a relationship with someone.

  Not that they were in a relationship. Only insofar as a friendship was a kind of relationship.

  "Why don't I drive? You can't know your way around these streets very well yet."

  Evan admitted he'd had trouble locating the warehouse-turned-gallery, which wasn't a surprise. The whole area was in the process of converting from industrial to mixed-use artsiness, a transformation which began back when a spur line for the Southern Railroad was torn out, leaving odd-shaped lots and warehouses which no longer housed any wares across several acres near downtown. Over the years, luxury apartments and condos grew up where rice silos once stood, grocery stores and bagel shops sprouted, and the trickier-to-access spots took on a less temporary feel.

  They gathered up the other couple. Luke's countenance was calm again, and he appeared relaxed as he held the door for Leticia. By the time they'd been seated at one of Natalie's favorite Indian restaurants, the other couple was darting quick glances at each other no matter who they were speaking to.

  "What do you like here?" Evan asked, scanning the choices.

  Nat leaned over to tap on Evan's menu. "The dosas are addictive. And I'm getting the paneer masala."

  "It all looks delicious, but….”

  She tried to gauge his expression. Luke and Leticia were busy conspiring over appetizers; they were no help. "But what?"

  "I guess I'm just not hungry yet. I wish this place had a dance floor. A rousing polka would really help me work up an appetite."

  "Just for that," Natalie said, folding closed her menu, "I'm making you pig up the check."

  The next morning, Evan was barely out of his car when the first text came in, and by the time he was sitting at his desk, his siblings had gone and blown up again. Not, alas, literally. It was Danyal, the gossip king, who started it all. As a kid, Danny tended to meet their parents at the door with a list of sibling transgressions, like the babysitter was incapable of ratting them out. At thirty-seven, he was still up to his old tricks.

  * * *

  Danyal: Evan's been stepping out on Mom's arranged marriage woman.

  Chloe: Leave poor Evan alone. He can date who he wants.

  Ben: Not according to Mom.

  Chloe: Did you not see Mom's choice for him? Let the boy date!

  Alice: Where are you getting your info from, D?

  Danyal: Facebook, of course.

  Ben: Hang on. That's Natalie.

  Danyal: What? No it's not.

  Ben: Look at her.

  Danyal: Duh, I am. I'm the one who told YOU to look.

  Ben: Get new glasses then. That's Natalie.

  Alice: He's right.

  Danyal: So Evan's dating Natalie? Does Mom know?

  Chloe: Whoa. She had a serious makeover.

  Alice: C, I wish you'd learn to stop judging women on their appearances.

  Chloe: Bite me.

  Danyal: Seriously, does Mom know about this? I'm forwarding her the link.

  Alice: Bite ME. And watch how you talk around Lizzy and Jane. They don't need their aunt's help to be self-conscious about their looks.

  Chloe: Your girls are beautiful.

  Alice: My girls are smart and funny and kind and strong. Quit valuing people on their appearances.

  Ben: She doesn't mean it, A.

  Chloe: I can stick up for myself, B.

  Alice: She can fight her own fights, Ben, you don't have to be such a stereotype.

  Ben: Jesus, fine, you two deal with each other.

  Danyal: Straying from the point, guys. Point being, I caught Evan going out with Natalie and he didn't tell Mom about it.

  Ben: You thought you caught him going out with someone else.

  Chloe: What did Mom say?

  Danyal: I don't know. She hasn't replied.

  Chloe: Copy us when she does.

  * * *

  Evan stopped reading and spent thirty minutes resisting the impulse to go online to see how he'd been busted. He finally broke, and scrolled through his personal email for the Facebook notifications. Yep, he'd been tagged. There had
been an event photographer at the gallery. Turned out Leticia had gone in and tagged several photos, including one of him talking to Luke and Leticia, and another of Leticia and Natalie posing with the painter. They might have missed the connection, but Leticia had also tagged him in a picture she'd taken at dinner.

  He'd been right about looking good beside Natalie. Stylish and coordinated. The shot was of Luke and him, but the glossy fall of Natalie's hair and the edge of her face were visible at the side of the frame. Evan smiled. No wonder Chloe didn't recognize her. This was a very different Natalie from the one his parents had shown them while they were in Turkey. At least in appearance. The generous spirit they'd adored in her was evident in the way she'd soothed Luke's nerves. And her presence still filled the screen, drawing his eye even when she was surrounded by visual clutter. He clicked back to the gallery shot of Natalie standing, of all things, in front of the pig painting. Impossible to resist giving it a thumbs-up.

  He also needed to give Natalie a heads-up, since his rat-fink brother had gone and alerted their parents. Elaine would be hearing about their night out. As he tapped out a quick message to Natalie, his cell rang. "Dad, hi."

  "It's your father."

  Evan ran an hand over his hair. "Yeah, caller ID, remember?"

  "Sure, sure. I know you use your work phone during the day, though."

  "You called my private line."

  "Did I?"

  "Yep."

  "So you're not at work?"

  "No, I'm sitting at my desk. On my personal cell." Evan resisted adding, "Answering your personal call."

  "I thought I'd be leaving a message."

  "Hey, Dad? Is something wrong?"

  "Nah, everything's perfect. Your mom made beautiful poached eggs this morning, and we had them with some of my tomatoes. My vines are producing like crazy this month."

  "Wonderful."

  "Are you and Natalie dating now?"

  Smooth segue. Good thing Evan had known the question was coming. "Nope."

  "Your mom says you are."

  "I'm not. We're not. We happened to meet in a social setting."

  "Looked like a date."

  Everyone in his family needed their eyes examined. "It was a group of friends visiting an art opening. I'm trying to get to know Houston, like I do every time I move to a new city."

  "It still looked like a date," Dad repeated.

  "I can't help that. It wasn't."

  "She's a sweet girl."

  Evan wondered if his dad could sense his rolling eyes. Probably. Hard to raise five kids without developing a radar for their snark. "I never said she wasn't. It was pleasant to meet her. She told me about a great coffee shop near my building, too. If you come down here I'll be sure to take you."

  "Now you know how sweet she is, you can start to date her."

  "Dad."

  And now Evan could sense his dad's pursed mouth, the usual pre-grumpy expression when his kids or grandkids weren't jumping to obey his dictates. It was about as forceful as Dad tended to get with anyone. "Evan, we want you to be happy, settled. It's a good life, you know. Your brothers and sister all have that, and you never hear them regretting it."

  "I don't regret my life the way it is. Chloe doesn't either, for the record. We can love the spouses and the kids without wanting the same things for ourselves." This was old ground, and Evan wished it could lie fallow. "Dad. I'm glad you introduced me to Natalie, but just as a friend. I'm not interested in dating her, and she's not interested in dating me, and I need you to hear me, and also to tell Mom the same thing."

  He traced the simple half-Windsor knot of his tie. He'd gone with a medium blue silk with the subtlest weave, the shade a perfect match to his linen suit.

  His dad finally replied. "I can tell you're busy. Talk to you soon, Oğlum."

  "Bye, Dad."

  He scrolled through the photos of Natalie one last time before stowing his personal cell and getting down to work.

  Chapter Four

  "So you've caught your tiger?" Gillian nodded towards the fortuneteller hanging in Serena's dining room. Back in March when Chris disappeared, Nat's friends had created the game board to help her move past her confused heartbreak. It was a grid of seven categories, from hair and eye color to their favorite 'sexytimes' column, with Serena's illustrations in each square. They'd all rolled dice to predict their perfect matches, and Nat's final toss had promised her a tiger in her bed.

  They took their accustomed seats so Serena's partner Dillon could serve them dinner. Nat looked from the curled lip of the tiger to her oldest friends. "According to my mom, yes. But she doesn't know about the tiger thing, and don't any of you dare mention it to her."

  "Like Elaine speaks to me." Serena wiped imaginary sweat off her brow. As preteens, Nat and Serena had been stepsisters. Elaine's schemes to catapult Serena on board the instant family dynamic all failed. Serena had been through a number of stepparents by then, none of who worked much at winning her heart, so at twelve she was closed off. When Elaine and Duncan divorced a year or so after the marriage, Elaine hadn't quite blamed her erstwhile stepdaughter for the split, but she'd never warmed to Serena once she and Natalie had reconnected in college.

  Natalie hadn't been consciously making up for her mother's coldness by grabbing hold of and nurturing Serena's friendship, but she'd been extra soothing when Serena and Elaine sniped. She considered asking them to accept each other, without putting her between them, but she knew where they were coming from and would rather love them than fight with them.

  Gillian, deploying an instinct for peacemaking she normally hid up on the hardest-to-reach shelf of her emotional cabinet, asked, "How much of a tiger is this man? Does he make you growl?"

  Nat laughed. "Groan, maybe, but not growl."

  Serena wiggled her eyebrows over the rim of her wine glass. "Groaning? Haven't you two just barely met?"

  "Very funny. I'm groaning at his terrible puns. They were appalling."

  "Let's hear one," Dillon said, bringing a casserole to the table. He caught Serena's chiding look. "Oh, I'm not allowed to gossip because I'm male? Gillian, help me out here."

  "No," Gill said, tipping her chin towards the kitchen. "You go back to your domain and leave the analytical thinking to us."

  "It's not equality if you're only switching the outmoded gender roles," he said, refilling their wine glasses.

  "Think of it as reparations," Gillian said. Dillon shook his head but let Serena swat him on the butt as he left.

  They dug in to the main course and Natalie told her friends how Evan's siblings had sniffed out the not-a-date and passed the news along like an electronic version of her old Girl Scout game Telephone, leading to a call from Elaine, in the middle of a closing, to ask why Nat hadn't introduced her new boyfriend. "And then she said she needed advice on rolling over her IRA, and could Evan call her sometime to talk her through it. I explained that's not the kind of banking he does, and offered to introduce her to Neera, but she wouldn't take her number."

  "Wait. Neera Russo?" Serena's smile dimmed. Nat had met Neera and Ridley, one of Serena's current stepbrothers, when the newlyweds were house-hunting. Apparently she hadn't expected the relationship to progress.

  "Yeah, she's my financial advisor now. Didn't I tell you?"

  "No. You didn't."

  "Well, she is. And she's good. Knows her stuff. You should give her a call."

  Serena's expression made it clear how likely that was. Natalie sighed. "I'm not having lunch dates with her, I'm just trusting her with my nest egg."

  "You ever think your priorities are backward?" Gillian teased.

  Natalie knew they weren't. Her friendships meant the world to her, especially those with her three former college roomies. She'd worked hard to maintain them, and they'd been there whether she was poor or getting by, dating or flying solo. Serena, Gillian, and Rachel were all the family Natalie needed, besides Elaine. She said, "Neera's great, but if it bugs you, I'll find someone else.
"

  Serena started to speak, then jumped. "Ouch. Unnecessary roughness."

  Gillian shrugged.

  "Did you seriously kick her under the table?" Nat asked.

  "Why would I?"

  Serena glowered at Gill. "Because she thinks she has to remind me I'm weird about the step siblings, and I don't own your affections."

  "Sure you do," Natalie said in the light tone she used whenever her friends got tetchy with each other.

  Serena sighed. "Well, I shouldn't be possessive. So, for the record, and not because I'm afraid of Gill, I'm glad you find Neera likable and trustworthy, and I'm sure she's not at all too young and inexperienced and also I'm sure her father-in-law loaded her office with every totem and charm for prosperity ancient wisdom has to offer."

  Natalie snorted into her chianti. Elegance personified, that was her. "You have such a generous soul, Serena. Thanks."

  "She's perfect," Dillon called from the kitchen.

  "Serena's Rocket Man turned out to be a good bet." Gillian turned toward the kitchen and projected her next sentence. "Despite all our worries. Could your tiger be Evan?"

  "He and Chris are three and three," Nat said.

  Gill pointed the serving spoon at her. "Explain."

  "It's not a big deal. Only, there's seven columns on the game. Chris matched three of my rolls--zero pets, sports car, black hair. So it's clear he wasn't my forever man, and I know he shouldn't have been in contention, since he disappeared on me and that's why y'all even invented the game, but the point is, he only got three out of seven. Not even half. Evan has three, so they're tied. Tying for loser isn't inspiring, you know?"

  "Which three?" Serena asked.

  "Banker, five siblings--if we count the lost twin--and black hair."

  "He has pets?"

  "I don't know. He might. But he drives a sedan and his eyes are brown."

  "I think none of that is the point." Gillian reached out for Natalie's hand. "Chris wasn't a tiger?"

  Crap. She hadn't meant to let that slip. "When we first got together? I can't remember. But, no. Not for a while, anyway."