Not My Type : Golden Girls 1

by Veronica Adler

  “I mean, he asked me to go to the beach with him because he wanted me to get over my fear of water. Did I mention I told him I’m afraid of water?”

  Clarissa held up a hand and I looked at her in question.

  “If he’s so perfect, what’s the problem? Other than being Sienna’s brother. If you’re serious about him, that can easily be resolved.”

  I took a bite of my ravioli and chewed slowly to buy time. The knowing look in Clarissa’s eyes told me she knew what I was doing. I looked at Logan for help who was watching me with equal amounts of curiosity.

  “Because.”

  “Why the hesitation?” Clarissa inquired, focusing her full therapist’s gaze on me. I stared steadfastly at my food because I didn’t want to get hypnotized by her.

  “Listen. I know it sounds crazy and I know it should have no bearing on my relationship or whatever it is with Daniel. But. I always have this fear that I am gullible when it comes to romantic alliances like my mother was. I have seen two sides of relationships, my mother with her boyfriend and my parents.”

  I looked up and met Clarissa’s, then Logan’s eyes. I didn’t see the judgment I had expected. Not even a look that said I was crazy or that they pitied me because of my emotional damage.

  “Trust me, we all think the same,” Clarissa said. “People spend so much time comparing parents and children. Girls especially get compared to their mothers, don’t we? Your worry makes sense to me.”

  I turned to Logan, who was staring down at her phone thoughtfully. A small frown marred her brows and she was tapping her finger absentmindedly against the table.

  “Lo? You okay?” Clarissa asked gently.

  Logan sat up straight, brown eyes wide with surprise.

  “Yes, of course,” she said, nodding. “I just remembered I have an email to send.”

  It was a lie, a convenient lie, and one we wouldn’t question. Logan was always sending emails or receiving emails or busy with meetings. She was only two years older than me, but the reason she had become so successful at her age was that she worked all the time. Sometimes, she didn’t sleep for a couple of nights and power napped through the days. Her need to succeed burned bright inside her.

  “But Clarissa is right, Eve. You’re not your mother, and you’ve got us. We won’t let a man lead you astray,” Logan said.

  The timer in the kitchen sounded, indicating the other set of cupcakes I had put in were done. I excused myself to check on them. I pulled them from the oven and put the pans in the blast chiller. The ones from before were done and I set them on the counter to decorate later. Then I went out to join my friends.

  The topic changed to the man Clarissa was seeing currently and I questioned when we would get to meet him. Clarissa tactfully evaded that question by asking Logan if she was seeing someone, at which she snorted and said she was far too busy running her company and dating wasn’t a priority.

  We had tiramisu for dessert and all agreed that Maddie’s was better. They left shortly after, telling me to go home and get some sleep.

  I returned to the kitchen and took the cupcakes out of the blast chiller. I grabbed a sugar cookie and bit into it as I set about making icing for the cookies and buttercream for the cupcakes. Before I knew it, I had eaten four cookies and was working on my fifth while my mind wandered to Daniel. Daniel. Daniel. Daniel. I had to do something about that.

  Chapter 16 – Eve

  I jerked awake to the sounds of sirens outside the window. For a moment, I was disoriented, my mind immediately conjuring up the worst possible scenarios and making my heart thud against my ribcage in panic. Until the sounds of sirens faded and other noises rushed in, and my mind relaxed enough to remind me that I was in New York City. What else was I expecting?

  I groaned and rolled over in frustration, reaching for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. 3:07 am. Brilliant. I had to be up in three hours. Normally, I was a sound sleeper. There could be months of ongoing construction outside my window, but once I was asleep, I was dead to the world.

  I was having a hard enough time falling asleep tonight without the added noises of NYC. Lights flashed across the blanket and onto the wall and I realized they weren’t from outside. It was the TV I had turned on the last time I had jerked awake about an hour ago and was currently showing Good Will Hunting, I picked up the remote and turned it off.

  Not even a young Matt Damon was enough to make me feel better. I looked down at my phone again and saw a message notification on the home screen. That hadn’t been there an hour ago.

  I had been texting Daniel when I was getting ready for bed. My last message to him got no reply and I told myself not to be disappointed because he was at work and didn’t have time to text me. He must have found a minute to send me his reply.

  I turned over to my front and clicked on the notification. Our messages popped up on the screen. Despite reminding myself constantly that we were better off as friends, I found myself constantly thinking about him. About the easy relationship we had as if we had been friends forever. How seamlessly he fit into my life. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  Daniel had sent me a frowny face emoji in reply to my reply to his original question, which was did I prefer San Diego or New York, and I had replied New York. Hey, I loved being near the beach and I knew a lot of people thought New York was overrated. I just loved how easily you could get lost in the hubbub of this city, even though you were rudely awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of sirens. There was an electric vibe here that buzzed through me every time I came here.

  Eve: You lived in Chicago for how long? And how is Chicago different from NYC? I will give you this, back home, I wouldn’t be rudely awakened from a dream of Chris Evans by the sounds of sirens.

  It was past midnight in California, and I didn’t expect him to reply, so I was surprised when his reply popped up on my screen right away.

  Daniel: Please explain to me why so many women are obsessed with Chris Evans?

  Eve: Because he’s supremely awesome and supremely hot and he’s America’s ass.

  Daniel: Do you realize that an average of 40% of Americans are obese? How exactly is Chris Evans’ ass representing those people?

  I snorted. Minutes ticked by on the clock and brought me closer to my wake-up time, and I didn’t care. I was going to be a zombie tomorrow, and I was willing to take that risk if only I could spend the rest of this night talking to Daniel.

  Eve: Do you have the time to argue with me? Shouldn’t you be working or sleeping?

  My phone buzzed in my hand, Daniel’s name flashing on the screen and I dropped it in shock. It slid off the blanket and onto the floor with a quiet thud. I winced and scrambled to the edge of the bed, reaching down to pick up the phone and answered the call before it disconnected.

  “Hello?” I whispered.

  “This is better,” Daniel said. His voice was deep and husky. I imagined him at home, his shirt half-unbuttoned, maybe a tumbler of whisky in his hand. The image made my pulse race. I bit my lip, clutching the blanket tightly to my chest.

  “I hope you don’t mind? I should have asked before I called, but I’m not a big fan of texting.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I whispered again. I didn’t need to whisper, no one would hear me. Well, Maddie might, though her room was on the other side of the house. She had insisted that I stay with her and her mother since they had a house in New York and it didn’t make sense for me to stay in a hotel for a week.

  “To answer your question, I just got home from work,” Daniel said, still in that low, deep voice. I heard something clinking which sounded distinctly like ice against glass. “What’s keeping you up?”

  “Other than the noise…my thoughts.”

  “What kind of thoughts?”

  “That I have to be in front of a camera for the next few days, that if I don’t fall asleep in the next two minutes, my eyes are going to be puffy on camera for millions of viewers to see, that if I don’
t figure out a way to get over my block or whatever, I will have to throw in the towel, or in my case my apron.”

  It was so easy to tell him my fears, my flaws. I couldn’t even tell my friends. The distance between Daniel and I helped, also. Not that I’d much trouble telling him the truth about my problems when we were face to face.

  “What? That’s it? I thought it would be something big like you’re trying to figure out world peace or something,” Daniel joked. I smiled up at the ceiling.

  “Please, my whole life is about how not to screw up my business.”

  “I’m going to ask you a serious question. Feel free to tell me to fuck off if it’s none of my business,” Daniel said.

  “Okay,” I whispered, wondering what he was going to ask me.

  “How bad would it be if you never came up with a new recipe? Would you lose your business?”

  I sighed and turned over to my side to stare out the window. I thought about his question a minute before I gave him my answer.

  “Imagine if you could only treat one kind of disease for the rest of your career,” I said. “You’re not even fully using all the skills of your profession by doing the same thing over and over again. And guess what, five other doctors are doing the same thing. So, what makes you so special? And if you’re not special or better, why would a patient come to you instead of the other doctor who’s doing the same thing and is maybe much closer to them?”

  “Ah, now I understand.”

  “I know it’s not a big deal—”

  “It’s a big deal if you feel it’s important. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Daniel said.

  My insides warmed and I turned, so once again I was on my back and staring up at the ceiling.

  “Even though being on camera scares me, I want to have my show, or at least have the opportunity to continue guest hosting. And I want to publish a recipe book one day. This is my career and I want to be successful. How will that be possible if all I can bake is basic cupcakes? Anyone can do that.”

  Just thinking about that made me panic. All I ever wanted was to give my absolute best and be successful in whatever career I chose. I wanted to be self-reliant, professionally, and financially. The alternative was letting someone else take care of me and that would never happen. All my birth mother had ever wanted was to be a singer. I remembered her having the voice of an angel, or it could be my mind putting the gloss of time over my memories. She could have been successful; I knew that down to my bones. I had known it as a kid, too. If only she hadn’t given up her dreams to make someone else realize theirs.

  “I’m sure you don’t need another pep talk from me,” Daniel began.

  “Please don’t. You’re terrible at pep talks,” I said, laughing lightly.

  “But,” he continued. “I will tell you this. I ate one of your pastries, the croissant with the jam and cream, and it was honestly one of the best things I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

  I grinned. “Really? Which flavor did you try, banana or mint?”

  “Mint. I don’t like bananas.”

  “Me either! Okay, what’s your favorite flavor?”

  I heard faint sounds from his end, the squeak of a door, the rustling of clothes, and the unmistakable sound of a groan. I flushed. Was he undressing?

  “You’re going to laugh,” he said, bringing my attention back to his voice and away from his sounds.

  “I won’t.”

  “It’s vanilla,” he said quietly, with a sigh.

  “Vanilla?”

  “Yes.”

  “Out of all the flavors in the world, you chose vanilla? I mean, if I want to bake you something to say thank you for listening to me go on and on about my business, it has to be something as easy as vanilla flavored?”

  Daniel laughed. “Eve, I don’t think you’re capable of making anything bad. How about you make me something with your best flavors and I will choose my favorite one?”

  “Do you promise? Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I said.

  “Oh, Eve, you have no idea how much I want to tempt you,” he whispered roughly.

  “Why don’t you tell me?” I said boldly. It was much easier to flirt with him with a distance of about 2,800 miles between us. In the middle of the night, I could let myself forget the lie that Daniel and I were just friends.

  Daniel hummed, the sound reverberating down the line and making my spine tingle.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” I said, my voice raspy.

  He hummed again.

  “You say that, but I don’t think you really want to know,” he said. “If I told you how much I want to kiss you, see my hands on your bare skin, and that I wonder about the taste of your skin, the feel of it, the way your hair would look spread around your bared shoulders, the pinkness of your lips when I’ve kissed them raw… I could go on, but you don’t want to know.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing ragged. I kicked out one leg from under the blanket, feeling too hot under it. My lower belly clenched with desire and suddenly all I wanted was everything he had described and even what he hadn’t. He was also right that I didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

  I cleared my throat lightly. “Right. That answers that.”

  “It does.”

  “As long as we both know it can’t be anything more than a fantasy,” I said.

  “Can’t it?” Daniel sounded genuinely confused. And the possibilities behind his confusion made my heart soar. I knew it was wrong to want him, and still, my mind and body couldn’t resist.

  “Yes. We both agreed that we are not each other’s types. Then there’s also the small matter of you being Sienna’s brother,” I said.

  “What you’re saying is, if it weren’t for my relationship with Sienna, you would be okay with us?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m saying,” I said, laughing lightly.

  Daniel hummed, and I heard the clinking of ice against the glass again. I imagined him lifting it to his lips and taking a sip of whatever he was drinking. I licked my lips, almost tasting the smoky, bitter drink.

  “It’s getting late. I should let you go now,” he said.

  My heart sank, even though I knew he was right. In just two minutes, it was going to be four o’clock. I thought I could almost see the sky lightening with dawn, off in the distance. I had to be up in two hours, and it was going to be a difficult day for me without adding sleeplessness to the mix.

  I started to say goodnight, but what came out was, “I’ll see you when I get back?”

  He agreed, and wished me good night, telling me that no matter what, I was going to be the most beautiful woman on the show. He was just trying to boost my confidence, though it didn’t work. It managed to turn my insides all gooey and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

  For my last day, Maddie suggested we recreate the iconic Audrey Hepburn moment and have breakfast at Tiffany’s. The difference being she made our croissant breakfast sandwiches herself, including the croissant. Her driver dropped us off in front of Tiffany’s at six in the morning. The roads were already clogged with cars, even this early in the day.

  “This is fun,” Maddie said.

  I nodded, biting into my sandwich and moaning with delight.

  “Please marry me,” I said, swallowing down my bite with a sip of my coffee. “I would love to have Chef Phillipe as my father-in-law.”

  Maddie snorted, leaning her shoulder against the wall while facing me. A pedestrian walking by gave us the side-eye, his eyes lingering on Maddie longer than on me. Given that Maddie was wearing black tights, a large black hoodie with the hood pulled over her head, and cat-eye sunglasses, she wasn’t exactly recognizable. He was probably judging us for not being native New Yorkers.

  Maddie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly before replying to me.

  “No one would love to have my parents as in-laws. They are over-protective. You know they expec
t to live with me if I ever get married because they can’t leave me alone with someone for long periods?”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Seriously?” Here I was thinking my mother was over-protective.

  “At the very least, they want to be neighbors. I kind of love the idea of having them so close, but I can’t possibly tell them this now or Mama will start house hunting,” Maddie explained.

  “Your parents travel for work, so they won’t be around all the time to look into your windows like nosy neighbors. It’s perfect.”

  Maddie nodded and tilted her head back to absorb some sunlight. Before we left the house, she had lathered herself in sunscreen just so she could experience the sun on her skin for a few minutes.

  “Tell me about your nascent romance,” she said, looking back at me.

  I almost choked on the bite of my sandwich. She was the last one I had expected to ask me that question because she would be the least interested.

  “Do people even use the word nascent anymore?” I asked.

  Maddie took a bite of the sandwich without saying a word, her face devoid of any expression. She didn’t have to say that my diversion tactic had not worked. I twisted my mouth to the side.

  “There’s no romance. Daniel and I are just friends,” I said.

  “I wonder how many people say they’re ‘just friends’ when really, they are not ‘just friends’? Especially when you have been talking to ‘your friend’ every night this week.”

  Maddie tilted an inquisitive eyebrow to let me know I was caught and there was no use denying anything. Except I wasn’t denying anything. I thought Daniel and I would be better off as friends because there was less heartbreak involved. And then I had gone and agreed to his dinner invitation. I was more confused about this whole situation than I needed to be.

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “I wanted to see him when I got back and he asked me out for dinner,” I said guiltily.

  “And you said yes?”