Little Miss Lovesick

by Kitty Bucholtz

  Bingo!

  “Yeah, right,” was all I said. I straightened the mess I’d made on my desk and got ready to leave.

  “Come on, you've gone out for margaritas every time you close since you’ve been working here.”

  “Before that,” I said without thinking. He was making me feel worse. Obviously, he didn’t know about last week’s missed celebration.

  Trent pushed himself away from the filing cabinet, took my arm, and steered me toward his desk.

  “What?”

  “Hang on,” he said as he turned off his computer and grabbed his briefcase.

  “Oh, Trent, no, don’t worry about it. I’m just going to go home.” I started to back away from his desk. This was sweet, but unnecessary. And it only made me more upset that Emily was ditching me.

  “Nope, come on,” he looked at his watch. “There’s only an hour left.” He took my arm, presumably so I couldn’t get away. Or maybe because he wanted to take my arm.

  Huh. I looked at him as we walked. He caught my gaze and laughed.

  “What?”

  He let go of me to open the door. “What?” He looked pretty happy. I wondered if this was a bad idea.

  How could this be bad, asked Lovesick.A cute guy whose company we already enjoy is going to save the evening!

  Enough with the “saving” already! I’m not a damsel in distress.

  “Nothing,” I said as he locked the office door.

  “Two cars or one?”

  Warning! “I’ll take my own car, thank you.” I needed to be sure he didn’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t in a good enough mood for a date.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake, exclaimed a Voice.Don’t get so full of yourself. He’s just a co-worker cheering up a co-worker.

  Go home while you still can, warned another Voice.

  “Actually, Trent, I’m just going to go home. It’s been a long—”

  “Actually, no, you’re not,” he said, looking me in the eye. “Margaritas for you are like lucky socks for a baseball player. If you break the cycle…”

  That’s what I tried to tell Emily!

  “We’ll have one margarita to celebrate,” he said, “then go our separate ways. If we worked at some corporate job downtown, we’d be doing this every Friday night.”

  I guess he could see me caving because he said, “If you don’t follow me there, I’ll come find you.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll meet you there.” I laughed in that “I give in” kind of way and walked to my car.

  CHAPTER 25

  TRENT was waiting for me by the door at La Señorita on Garfield. Walking in, we passed the restaurant on our right and entered the cantina on our left. Not a seat to be found — duh! it’s Friday — so we ordered our margaritas from the bartender. Trent went over to the buffet and brought back a basket of chips and some green chili picante sauce, making a standing-room space for us at a corner of the bar.

  He held up his glass to mine. “Here’s to another’s happiness. May our clients make us enough money to buy our own homes!”

  I laughed. “Cheers!” We dinged our glassed together and drank. It never occurred to me that other realtors felt the same way. I usually thought of Perry — homeowner. Carmen — homeowner. Me — renter. I never thought of Trent one way or the other.

  Maybe you should, suggested Lovesick.

  Trent ate some chips and motioned for me to dig in. “I figure I have to sell about twelve more properties before I have a big enough down payment to have a manageable monthly payment. How about you?”

  “Eight. I thought I was the only one who counted that way.” I took another drink. Friday night, margaritas, a free weekend ahead. I was finally beginning to relax.

  “I count everything. Twelve properties till I buy a house. A little over a year from now at my current sales rate. So I’ve got a year to find the right girl and court her and propose to her, and then I’ll give her a house for a wedding present.” Trent popped some more chips into his mouth. The salsa dripped onto his finger and he wiped it off with a napkin.

  “Court her? You’re going tocourt a girl?” I laughed. “Don’t you date like everyone else?” I dipped a chip into the green sauce and ate. So hot. I loved it.

  Trent shrugged and took another drink. Liquid courage to say what’s really on his mind? Yeah, I know that one. “I’m looking for a wife, not a one-night stand. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.” He drank some more. “I want kids. Nice girls want a house and a steady income. I want a nice girl. Besides, I’m under the impression romance is high on the priority list for women. Am I wrong?”

  I quickly shook my head. “No, no. You’re right. I just…I never thought that you…I just never thought about it.”

  Trent looked at me and didn’t say anything. You can always tell when someone wants to say something, then decides it’s the wrong thing or the wrong time. I couldn’t help myself. Curiosity killed the cat.

  “What?”

  He shook his head and took another drink. At this rate, we’d be ordering refills soon. I didn’t think he’d tell me what he was thinking. Then he spoke. The bar was so loud, though, I couldn’t quite understand him.

  “Ice swirls?”

  “Nice! Nice girls.” He leaned over and spoke close to my ear. “I said I think it sucks that nice girls are all too often with the wrong men.”

  “You mean, not with you?” I teased.

  He tried to put salsa on my nose. I laughed and leaned out of the way.

  “You know what I mean.” He didn’t look at me.

  Yeah, I know what you mean, said a Voice.

  I took a long drink myself. I was going to have to sit here for a while if I continued to drink this fast. But it drowned my musings. Musings about whetherI’d ever be the nice girl who found a nice man.

  “So where is Emily tonight?” Trent practically shouted over the din. (Why do we call it atmosphere in a bar and love it, then get mad if our neighbors have their radio on too loud? Weird.)

  “Busy.” I stuffed chips into my mouth. I didn’t know where Emily was. If I were honest, I’d admit that I was hurt and jealous of whatever had taken her away from me. Was it Geoffrey? How could it be? She’d introduced us, so now he wasn’t a secret anymore. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t telling me a thing.

  But enough with the morose ramblings. I’d sold a house, dammit! I washappy!

  “On a date?”

  I stopped with a chip almost to my mouth. If she were on a date, she’dtell me. Right? I wouldn’t be mad at her for being on a date, for heaven’s sake. Picante sauce dripped onto the bar. I put the chip in my mouth.

  “She didn’t say.” No, but now I remembered the giggling and the whispering. Telling signs, if ever there were any, that there was a man nearby, right? She didn’t have a new best friend. She had aboyfriend. That would be awesome, if it were true.

  Pictures flashed through my mind of Emily and Geoffrey acting silly over each other at the 4th of July picnic. Then my mind conjured up images of Matt and me kissing and giggling by the fire a couple weeks ago. I suppressed the wave of loneliness that threatened. Emily must be out with Geoffrey. But why wouldn’t she tell me?

  Trent and I sat munching for a few moments without talking. He watched the TV over my head. I glanced up but it was ESPN. Don’t care.

  Don’t care about much right this minute, whispered a Voice.

  I amhappy. I sold ahouse. I have moremoney in my House Fund.

  Trent said something but I couldn’t hear him. I leaned closer.

  “Sorry?”

  “I asked if you were still seeing that guy.”

  “Oh. Uh, not really. I don’t think so.” Could I sound more stupid? It’s a yes or no question.

  And do you know if the answer is yes or no? asked a Voice.

  Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Think of something funny to say.

  “Have you found that girl you’re going to court and buy a house for?” I asked with a smile. Teasing. That’s what y
ou did when you were out with friends, when you were drinking and having fun. You teased.

  I drank some more margarita, making my way along the salty edge. I liked to have some of the salt with every sip. Yum.

  Trent took a drink, too, but it looked like he was covering up a blush. Could it be?

  I hit my knee against his. “Awww, come on, tell me.”

  He sort of smiled but didn’t look at me. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Yeah, that means you met a girl and you like her. Have you asked her out?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Come on, Trent, you’ve got a timetable to keep to here. Tick, tock.”

  “My timetable is a year from now.” Trent excused himself to refill the chips and salsa bowls.

  I noticed two chairs emptying a couple seats down. I grabbed our drinks and took possession of the space. When Trent came back, I jumped right into teasing him as if he were a girlfriend. “Spill it, dude. I want to know.”

  “Dude?” Trent raised his eyebrows at me.

  I kneed his knee again. “Come on. If you want to go out on Friday with friends from work, you have to be ready for the alcohol-induced inspection.”

  “I can’t do it on one drink.”

  “So order another one.”

  “I don’t like to drink alone.” He eyeballed me in a challenging manner.

  I laughed and waved my arm at the crowded room. “You’reso not alone.”

  Trent smiled and said, “Nope. If you want the scoop, we stay for another drink and we get some food.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go.” And I’m trying not to think about it.

  “Great, what do you want? My treat.”

  “Well, in that case, the seafood nachos. Have you had them? They’re fabulous.”

  Trent ordered two more margaritas and a large seafood nachos.

  “Wait!” I put my hand on his arm and waved my other hand at the almost-retreating bartender. “Get the small. The large is so big we’ll be here all night.”

  Trent waved the bartender away. “I’m hungry.”

  I laughed. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I drank a few more swallows of my drink to make way for the new one and moved closer so I could hear the whole story. “So, tell me everything.”

  We were sitting elbow to elbow now, along the bar. Easier to talk this way than at a table where you’re far enough away from each other that you have to yell.

  This is fun, said a Voice.

  And he’s cute, said Little Miss Lovesick.

  I told someone to smack Lovesick and waited for Trent’s story.

  He was playing with a chip, drawing in the picante sauce. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a little smile. “There isn’t much to tell.”

  “Ah, you like her, I can tell,” I said in that singsong voice you tease your friends with. “Come on, where’d you meet her?”

  I finished the rest of my margarita and waited for the next one. Maybe I was a little light-headed, but I felt good. Happy.

  He shrugged. “I’ve seen her around.”

  “And?”

  “And…I think she’s sexy and nice and sweet. And she’s one of those girls I told you about who goes out with the wrong guys.”

  “Is she seeing anyone now?”

  He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I think so, but I’m not sure.”

  I leaned my chin on my hand, thinking. “Well, it’s bad form to try to break in. I mean, some people do it, but I think it’s bad form. On the other hand, if you’re waiting around and she doesn’t know you like her and she’s not dating anyone, you could seriously lose out.”

  Our new drinks appeared and we both sipped and thought.

  “Does she know that you like her?” I asked.

  Another shrug. Apparently a means of communication. Slightly tipsy, I got silly. I leaned against him and shrugged a couple times. “What does this mean? She knows? She doesn’t know? You need a massage?”

  He laughed. “It means I don’t know. I don’t know if she knows. I think she does. Maybe.” He shrugged again and laughed.

  The biggest plate of steaming seafood nachos landed with a thud in front of us. “There must be three pounds of food on that plate,” I said with some trepidation. I made a funny face that was meant to look like I was scared.

  He hefted the plate. “More like five. Wanna race?”

  I held up my hand in protest. “No way. Let’s just say you win and be done with it.”

  We dug in. Delicious!

  “So, you need a plan to let her know you like her. And to find out if she’s dating anyone. Where have you seen her? You could kind of bump into her again.”

  Trent’s mouth was full of food.

  “How about the beach? You go out with your friends on their sailboat a lot. Do you see her at the beach?” I took a none-too-dainty bite with a scallop and lots of cheese.

  Trent nodded and swallowed. “She looks hot in a bikini.” Again, he didn’t look at me and his face was getting red. It was so cute. He really liked this girl.

  I giggled and said, “You probably better not tell her that until she knows you like her for herself first.” I took a drink. “On the other hand, she might like that you noticed her. In which case, you should definitely let her know she looks good.”

  “So how do I know — say it or not say it?” Trent put a shrimp on a cheese covered tortilla chip and held it up to my mouth.

  I ate it and thought while I chewed. “Well, uh—” I swallowed “—when in doubt, be a gentleman. But cute and funny and charming. But not too much.”

  Trent shook his head and fed me another chip. “This is why men don’t understand women. Everything is walking a line, never sure what to do or say.” He ate a huge chipful of seafood.

  I grinned. “Yeah, well, it’s the same with men. You guys give out advice like ‘stand up for yourself’ and then get mad when it comes back on you. You answer surveys that say you like it when women make the first move, then when one does, you say she’s forward — or worse! It’s a no-win situation.” I pulled some melted cheese off the plate and ate it.

  “That’s for sure.” Trent had seafood sauce on his chin so I handed him a napkin.

  “I probably shouldn’t be giving you advice anyway,” I said.

  “Why’s that?”

  I cocked my head and looked at him like he was an idiot.

  He laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Your love life is messed up.”

  I socked him in the shoulder. He twisted away and laughed.

  “It’s one thing forme to say it.” Then I laughed. This bantering thing was fun.

  We sat around for another hour or so, talking and eating. When the nachos were gone and we both felt comfortable driving, Trent paid the bill — very chivalrous — and we headed out.

  The next few moments were almost surreal. As it happened, I thought,this only happens in movies. We walked past a table of men laughing and watching ESPN and I happened to look toward them. One man was not laughing, not watching TV, but watching me.

  Matt.

  I paused by the table. I felt my mouth open, but no words came out. It was like I had tunnel vision for a moment. All I could see was him, looking at me, angry and cold. I think I said hi but I’m not sure.

  One by one, I sensed the other men at the table turn to look at me, too. Dirk’s hand was under my elbow, tugging lightly, pulling me away from Matt. I wanted to push it away. Then I blinked. I looked over atTrentand back at Matt.Shit.

  I tried to smile politely. “See ya.”

  Then I moved my feet, one in front of the other and out the door, Trent still steadying me with his hand. We walked to my car and I dug my keys out of my pocket. Trent took them and unlocked the door, opening it for me. Such a gentleman.

  “Sorry,” I said, smiling sheepishly up at him.

  “Was that him?”

  I looked down at my shoes. “Yeah.” I didn’t know what to say.

  “If yo
u don’t mind my saying so, it didn’t look like the two of you were happy to see each other.”

  I looked away and shook my head, then shrugged. I half laughed. “I guess. I tried to…I just wanted him to…I don’t know.” I tried to laugh again.

  Trent took a deep breath. “You want to see a movie tomorrow? Maybe grab a bite afterward?”

  I looked up at Trent and cocked my head to one side, studying him. “Why can’t I just fall for you, huh? Have a comfortable, happy life with no drama, no fireworks, no tears. Sweet, cute guy who only wants to make me happy. I should apply to be a candidate on the Who Will Be the New Mrs. Oswald show.”

  It was the alcohol that made me say it. And it must’ve been the alcohol that made Trent kiss me. Not a peck on the cheek either. But a full contact, lips on lips, hands in my hair, Ross and Rachel kind of kiss. It was the TV reference that made me realize I wasn’t moved to tears. No sparks, indeed.

  Trent broke the kiss first. He looked at me, chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, his hands sliding down my cheeks and falling to his sides. “My point was to show you that we could have fireworks.” He took one of my hands. “I guess it’s not the sort of thing you can force.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Trent.”

  I really was. What was wrong with me? I went out with him tonight because I wanted to like him more. He had all the qualities I was looking for. But that didn’t seem to be enough.

  He squeezed my hand and let go. “Don’t be. I’ve had it in my head for months that you could... Ido want sparks and the occasional drama with the woman I love. But I’m afraid,” he chuckled self-consciously and looked away, “I didn’t feel any either.”

  I gazed at him for a moment, wondering if we should try again, try harder. We were perfect for each other in so many ways. But maybe we both deserved more than mutual desperation.

  Impulsively, I leaned over and hugged him. He returned it with affection. Yes, this felt much better. I wondered if he’d be upset if I said the words so many men dread hearing.

  “You think we could be friends?”

  He kissed my hair and pulled away. “I’d like that.”

  I studied his face. Didn’t look like he was lying. It’s possible, just maybe, one thing in my life went right today.