Clichéd Love: A Satirical Romance

by Lynn Galli

  We went to the doorway between his shop and her restaurant. They both kept odd hours for their businesses, staying open only Thursdays through Sundays. As I’d told Iris, it would come in handy when hanging out together.

  “Nice place,” I commented when they let me into their condo on the third floor. Open spaces and exposed brick walls gave it a loft feel, but the bedrooms were closed off and drywall wrapped the ceiling and ductwork. Condo-loft was probably the correct term for the place. A view of Lake Union filled the large windows lining both sides of the living room.

  Joe gave me a tour of the space as Helen got started on dinner. Two dogs joined us from the massive laundry room. Golden retrievers that were well mannered but anxious for a run outside. Helen took them while Joe got their chef’s stove fired up and I set the table.

  Feeling as comfortable here as I’d been at Iris’s and at my own place, I could envision spending more nights in their company. Perhaps I had found my home for the next year or more. I’d need to find something other than my pricey executive rental without the ability to write it off as a temporary housing expense. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a nice but cheaper place close by. I’d have to give this a long think.

  “We invited another couple to join us. The one I told you about?” Helen said when she came back with the dogs.

  My brow rose. I remembered her mentioning another adventurous couple they knew with a good story. After hearing theirs, meeting while rock climbing—not on the trail near the cliff, they’d been on the rock face when they met—I was eager to interview this other couple. I could feel myself smiling, glad I wouldn’t have to arrange the interview on my own, even if it meant working when I hadn’t planned to work.

  “I meant to ask,” I said to Joe as he turned the pork chops to brown the other side. “What was your opening line with Helen as you two dangled off a cliff?” I tried for a cheesy impression of his voice, “Hey, beautiful, do you hang on this rock often?”

  They laughed at my impression. Mellow seemed to be their overriding common character trait. As business owners, they should face stress every day, but they either hid it very well or got it all out with these outdoor activities. I should pull a page from their manual for life. Didn’t think I’d enjoy the whole cliff dangling part of it, but I could embrace a little mellow to tame the critical a smidge.

  “You make it sound like we’d fallen over the side of a mountain,” Helen said through the laughter. “We were clipped in, scaling the rock face. On purpose.”

  “But not together?” I asked because I’d liked their story and wouldn’t mind hearing more details.

  “I’d never been there.” She started chopping vegetables without looking. “Just read about it and had some time off, so I jumped in my truck and made the trek.”

  “I’d been there a few times with my climbing club,” Joe said. “It wasn’t hard to strike up a conversation when you’re the only two people on a cliff wall.”

  “If ever there was a situation that didn’t need a come-on line, that’s probably it,” I agreed.

  Of all the couples I’d interviewed, they were the most suited to each other. The acrobats were a close second, but these two found partners that enjoyed the same things and were adventurous enough to explore other things they might like. My mind flitted to Iris. That dynamic was hard to find in a friend, let alone a partner. I’d lucked into that kind of friendship with her. Even if I’d put my foot in my mouth earlier.

  “Our friends met on a whitewater rafting trip,” Helen told me.

  “One of them almost drowned,” Joe inserted. “But we’ll let them tell the story.”

  It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten an interview when I hadn’t planned on it. If their friends were the same easygoing types, the interview would be more of a conversation than work. Enjoyable work, which was my favorite kind.

  “What about the sister who might help Lane. Is she married?” Iris had mentioned that the investor was gay. It would be interesting to put them in the same article. One gay sister, one straight, and see if people could pick which was which.

  Helen chuckled. “Yeah, but she won’t talk.”

  I laughed at the phrasing. “She doesn’t talk at all, or she won’t talk to me?”

  “She doesn’t talk about her relationship and certainly not to be published.”

  “Who, Willa?” Joe asked as he came back from settling the dogs into their crates. “I’d love to see Vega try. Can you imagine? She’d probably make a hole in the wall escaping the loft as fast as possible without stopping to open a door.” He laughed and slung an arm around his wife.

  “That or find something hard to hit us all with, hoping to knock us unconscious and wipe our memories,” Helen added.

  Now I really wanted to talk to her. I had a way with getting people to open up. No matter how hardheaded they might be. Someone this private would be interesting to try to crack. “Wow, she sounds interesting.”

  “She is that, but intensely private.” Helen’s face gave away her fondness. “It was a year before she finally admitted to her relationship with Quinn, and that was only when I caught them kissing after I’d walked into her house without knocking.”

  “Kinda hard to deny being in a relationship with someone you’re kissing, you know?” Joe confirmed.

  “Kinda hard,” I agreed.

  The doorbell heralded the interesting couple of the night. Over the course of the next hour, I gave serious thought to finding a more permanent place here. I liked these people. Add in Iris and Lane and a few others from the bar, it was all the incentive I needed to decide a change was in order.

  20 |

  In another airport, I settled in and thought back on the meeting I’d been summoned to. My editor, who’d loved the competition angle to the articles, now joined the worry of the other editors and her boss as to their mass appeal. They wanted to run a test article before announcing a contest and its extravagant prize. What I thought was a done deal now needed proof of popularity to rate what they offered. The test article’s online poll response would decide if a wedding prize was offered. If it didn’t garner enough interest, they’d offer a staff photographer to take photos of the winner’s wedding instead.

  More people than necessary had packed into the four meetings. More people with differing opinions on how to go about this series. I thought going freelance would be easier than working as a staff reporter. If these meetings were anything to go by, my assumption was wrong. The only benefit so far were the added interviews I’d picked up in the evenings near the paper’s headquarters in northern Virginia. I also routed my return flight through Atlanta, Dallas, and Salt Lake to take advantage of the free airline ticket to pick up more interviews in different cities. Seattle was proving to be diverse among the locals and tourists, but it would help add legitimacy to the series if I talked to people in more cities.

  My phone rang as I was charging it among a phalanx of six other phones and three laptops. Seeing who it was, I unplugged and walked toward the quietest corner I could find.

  “Hey, Iris.” A tremor rippled in my stomach. I’d had to leave for Washington DC the day after our misunderstanding in the gym before we could put our friendship back in solid order.

  “Hi, Vega. Where you been?” Her voice held the same hesitation as mine.

  “Had to fly out for a meeting with the paper.”

  “Oh.” Relief this time.

  “Last minute. I basically got on a plane as soon as they called.”

  “Okay, good. Yeah,” she filled the void. “I thought, it’s stupid, but I—”

  “Thought I’d left because I said something careless to make you angry?” I guessed, not normally so direct with people because they could become overwhelmed or easily turned off. Iris believed in direct. It was one of the reasons we got along so well.

  Her nervous laugh was loud and calmed the tremors in my stomach. “Yeah, something like that. When I didn’t hear from you after two days, I thought I real
ly screwed up.”

  “You didn’t. We’re bound to run into sensitive topics from time to time. We should just agree to talk it all the way out before we walk away.”

  “Good plan.” She cleared her throat. “So, when are you coming home?”

  Home. I liked the sound of that. Hadn’t really had one for a while. Not the two years in Chicago nor the few in DC before that. Not since I left home after high school, but Seattle felt different. “I’m headed to Salt Lake in thirty minutes. I’ll stay one night, then I’m back.”

  “Did you want to try for tennis?”

  Our standing Thursday tennis game. I looked forward to them as much as any other time we spent together. “Absolutely. And maybe lunch to catch up?”

  “Or dinner.” Her voice held hope this time. “Whatever works.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I confirmed, freeing some of that dread I’d been carrying around since ticking off my one true Seattle friend. “See you Thursday morning, Iris.”

  “Looking forward to it, Vega.”

  I hung up and surveyed the busy gate. Being in the third airport in three days no longer bothered me. I went back to the jungle of wires and reconnected my phone to sip up the last of the charge before I trudged onto a plane again. One more connecting airport, and then I’d be back.

  * * *

  One hundred and eighty-five square feet. As a living space. The condo manager thought this was an apartment. To rent. For thirteen hundred dollars. Gulp. We barely had enough room to turn around in this studio. I’d thought Iris’s place was small, but this was miniscule. A studio in my current building, the only thing I could sensibly afford if I were going to give this book and freelance thing a try. The entire apartment would fit into my bedroom upstairs. It was hard to believe what seven hundred extra dollars would do to the size of an apartment. Seven hundred I didn’t want to spend if I couldn’t write it off or didn’t own it.

  Iris was trying to look positive. Her fake smile wasn’t even fooling the building manager. “It’s, um, cozy.”

  “Iris.” I didn’t need to say anymore.

  “Your current place is available, Vega.” the building manager said, yet again.

  “Yes, you’ve said. Unfortunately, it’s out of my price range now that I’m making this my home.” I could afford a couple hundred more, but that was as far as my budget with sporadic income could stretch. Unfortunately, that meant I’d have to go small or live in a dump if I wanted to stay in this neighborhood. Super small, it seemed.

  “We have another building on Olive. There’s a studio there almost twice the size. Older building, but a larger studio.”

  Not even four hundred square feet. A dorm room, essentially. Ugh. “Thanks, I’ll think about it. We’ve got a couple other appointments today.”

  Iris nodded her head enthusiastically. As much as she wanted me to stay in the neighborhood, she could tell that I was past the college space living phase of my life. She grabbed my arm to propel us into motion out of this closet of an apartment. “I was afraid to keep breathing in that place or use up all the oxygen.”

  I laughed but sobered quickly. “I’d forgotten how expensive cities can be on your own dime.”

  “You didn’t live in the city in Chicago?” She started walking us down Madison toward the next building on our list.

  “Nope, a bit up on the Blue Line. Took the train every day. Same with DC and New York.”

  “The bus system here isn’t too bad.” Again, she tried to sound positive, but I knew she was hoping that I could find something close enough to keep hanging out with her regularly.

  “I’d rather stay as close to downtown as possible.” I slid a grin her way. “I don’t want to move out of that radius where it’s too much of an effort for you to hang out.”

  She shoved my shoulder, making me stumble before righting myself. “Fifteen miles, max.”

  “There’s another in Capitol Hill and one across the freeway to look at if you’re truly up for the hunt today.” I consulted my list, trying not to put pressure on her to accompany me.

  “Absolutely.”

  “No PI work today?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait. I’m more vested in this.”

  I glanced at her. No teasing smile, no smirk. She was seriously invested in helping me find a place. My heart thumped at how happy that made me. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s find you a place.”

  21 | Nykos & Mariah

  An hour spent laughing was just the medicine I needed after not finding an apartment yesterday. This guy should have been a comedian instead of a software executive. His wife added amusing tidbits to the conversation, but this guy was hysterical. He’d come into the bar with Helen last week. As her sister’s business partner, he was there to perform due diligence on the investment’s feasibility. When Helen introduced us, she basically ordered me to take down his story. I was glad I followed the order.

  “The shark just swam away?” I interrupted his latest comedic riff to ask a clarifying question because how could I not? Sharks were involved; clarification was vital.

  “Oh, normally I attract all kinds of animals and mammals. There’s no end to my attraction level. You’ll fall for me before we leave. Guaranteed.” Nykos tapped his nose and gave a wolfish grin that was pretty hard to resist. His puffy face looked as if something venomous had stung him, but it went well with his barrel shaped body. Even if I went for guys, nothing about his looks would attract me and his personality would be exhausting twenty-four-seven. I was about to snark back when his hand came up in a stopping gesture. “Sexuality aside, lady, I attract.”

  “Except for sharks.”

  His eyes lit up at the banter. “Yeah, so maybe one species can resist.”

  “We were on the boat, screaming at him to swim faster.” Mariah gripped his hand without realizing it. “This shark comes right up on him, gigantic fin, Jaws music blaring. I thought he’d lose a foot or something.”

  “And nothing happens, seriously, nothing.” Disbelief showed on his face. “The thing skated right past me and went back out to sea.”

  “No way he confused you for a seal, babe.”

  “Something that ate a seal, maybe,” he joked, which made me like him even more.

  “And you’re a little hairy.” Her wide face crinkled into a grimace.

  “Hirsute, buttercup. And you married it.”

  We all laughed at that one. “That’s when you fell for him?” I asked Mariah.

  “I was definitely more scared than I should have been for someone we’d just met on vacation.”

  I looked down at the sparse notes I’d taken, too involved in listening to their tale to actually scratch any notes. “You’d been hanging out together for how long?”

  “It was a ten-day all-expenses paid couple’s resort,” she told me.

  “On a private island?”

  “Yep, just the resort and a little village owned by the resort. Stupidest idea I’ve ever had.” He rolled his eyes. “I thought I could relax on the beach and read for hours to decompress from designing and coding.”

  “Relaxing was all I wanted to do,” Mariah agreed.

  “But?” I wanted to hear this one more time.

  “Our significant others didn’t.” His shoulders heaved. “When you’re at a couples-only vacation place, it’s hard to do anything alone. You book a spa treatment, and it’s supposed to be a couple’s spa treatment. You book a jet ski, and it’s a two seater. You want to go to yoga? Guess what, every stupid pose needs a partner. Everything is couple oriented. Idiotic.”

  “When in your life have you ever been to yoga?” His spouse gave him a playful punch.

  “Hey, I can yoga with the best of them.”

  “Right, like you can make anyone fall for you?” she shot back.

  “You did.”

  “Temporary insanity.”

  “That’s lasted six years now?”

  “Just plain old insanity, then.” They both cracked up at t
hat.

  I was happy to have my digital recorder for this interview because I didn’t want to miss a second of it. They’d been like this for an hour, and we’d barely scraped the surface of their story. “I have to ask, you were a foursome when you went to the island—”

  “And two never came back,” Nykos joked dramatically.

  Mariah smacked him again. It was a large part of their relationship, joking and smacking. “We met on the plane ride down there. Got along great, ate together, went on those stupid excursions together.”

  “One of which involved a shark snubbing your man here?” I goaded and got a huge laugh from Nykos.

  “It only took a day before Kos and I figured out we’d rather just relax and sit on the sidelines of the excursions while our partners took on the sometimes bone jarring adventures together.”

  Which is why I had to finish my question. “Did they also get together?”

  “Oh, we didn’t actually…no, not on the vacation. That would have been just wrong,” Mariah assured me, looking sickened by the idea of cheating on her boyfriend while on vacation with him.

  I sighed in relief, not realizing I’d been that hung up on whether or not they’d done something skeevy to get together. “How long after before you got together?”

  “I broke up with Gavin a week later. It was mutual.”

  “Becca and I didn’t even make it past the plane ride home,” Nykos said.

  “Because you’d fallen for each other on vacation?”

  “No,” Mariah said and my esteem for her shot up. She hadn’t romanticized a fabricated romantic situation. She had the wherewithal to understand her feelings and act appropriately. “We just got along really well, which made it clear how much Gavin and I no longer did. Kos makes me laugh, and he’s considerate. We enjoy a lot of the same things.”

  “Like reading on beach chairs to relax instead of taking part in crazy stunts that involve death defying heights supported only by nylon or a zip line,” Nykos inserted.