Swipe Left for Love

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Swipe Left for Love Page 9

by Lynn Stevens


  Zac patted his Dad on the arm. “If you have to start over, most of your investors will come with you.”

  “That’s the only plus side.” His father sighed and stared out the window overlooking the pool. Zac’s sisters jumped in, splashing each other while Amanda sunned herself. “I wanted to spend more time with my family. Retirement in five years. Handing the reins of a solid company over to you. Send the girls to whatever college they want. Take Amanda around the world without worrying about work. But this fight might take it out of me. That’s what scares me the most.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad.” Zac clamped his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Let me fight. You just pull the strings.”

  “They’ll listen to you.”

  I’ll make sure of it, Dad. Zac sipped his soda and knew where, or rather who, to start with. He may be a ‘new employee’ on Monday, but Zac spent every summer interning at the office since he was sixteen. He knew the major players. He knew the lines dividing the office. He also knew who was the best person at spreading gossip: his father’s secretary Maureen. That was where he’d start.

  MACIE SETTLED INTO the wingback after work on Sunday and finally succeeded in hacking someone’s Wi-Fi. Her internet would be set up on Monday, until then she needed a connection. The signal was weak, but it was a signal nonetheless. All she wanted to do was check her messages and maybe watch a movie. The eleven-hour work day had exhausted her. Nancy had her creating new graphics for the green screen. The old ‘homicide’ one the anchors used was stale and too similar to channel ten’s new one. It needed a fresh look. After all, the news needed to make murder pop for the viewers. That took most of the day with tiny things popping up for sales and news stories. For the most part, she worked alone. Each designer taking a different shift that crossed over in the middle of the day and everyone was on staff. She was lucky she got the normal day shift for now, but in three months, she’d start working late into the evenings. In another three, she’d be stuck on the four a.m. shift. The rotating schedule sucked, but she didn’t plan on working at the station for the rest of her life. It was just a stepping stone to the next thing.

  She opened the Blind Friends app to see a red one in the corner. A smile settled over her face that quickly disappeared when she read it.

  He wanted to meet? Last night? Fuck.

  Macie began typing immediately.

  I’m so sorry. I just got this message. Graduation was insane and I spent the rest of the day moving into my new apartment. My internet isn’t up yet. This is the first I’ve had time to even log on.

  My job decided to kick it into high gear today. I knew this place would be a challenge, but I never expected everything to be so last minute. It felt like I spent my day working on one project until it was almost time to go home. Then I had five that needed to be done within the hour. When I finished those, five more were dropped onto my shoulders.

  Please forgive me.

  She didn’t even read over it before she hit send. Her heart ached as she stared out the window at the streetlight. So close, yet still so far away. This anonymous man might always be anonymous. He might always be the one that got away or something like that. It was so fairy-tale-ish. How could she even think about there being anything more than what they already have? She glanced back at the screen. Another message.

  No, I’m sorry. I dropped it out there with no notice, then I didn’t even make it myself. Please forgive me.

  It’s crazy now. One day after graduation and our lives are already upside down. My father had a medical issue yesterday. I didn’t even make it to the ceremony. He’s fine, but it scared the hell out of me. You once told me your mother’s your world. My father is mine. He’s done so much for his family. He’s my idol, my hero. Seeing him lying in that hospital bed with monitors hooked up to him... It made me realize there will be a time in the future where he won’t be there. That’s not something I ever wanted to think about, but it’s a reality I have to face.

  It also reminded me of something I already knew. Life is short. I can’t let this fear of meeting you keep me from meeting you. I can’t let the excitement overrule all common sense, either. They seem to be in constant battle with one another. And a frat party was not how I wanted to see you for the first time. Our relationship or friendship, whatever you wish to define it as, has been intimate. It’s always been just you and me. That’s how we need to meet. Just us.

  So, how about coffee on Tuesday? There’s a place on Chouteau called Spoons where they make an amazing latte. I work until five, but I can meet you any time after that. Just tell me when and I will be there.

  Macie didn’t hesitate. She didn’t think. She just started typing.

  I can meet you at six. But how will I know it’s you? I don’t want to trust fate.

  She hit send and waited nearly ten minutes before he responded.

  I don’t want to tempt fate either. A red rose? Too cheesy? I don’t know how to do this.

  Macie sat back. It wasn’t like she met men online all the time. This would be a first for her too. A rose was cheesy, but it was still something easily recognizable.

  Me either. I’ll bring a rose, too. We can be cheesy together. If it helps, I’m terrified and excited. What if this is a mistake? What if we’re only meant to be the way we are now?

  His message came back almost instantly.

  What if it’s not?

  Macie smiled. He was right. There were so many variables in this equation that even Pythagoras would stumble over the solution.

  I will see you Tuesday, she typed.

  Grabbing her phone, she sent Lauren a text. Two seconds later, Macie’s phone rang.

  “What’s going on?” Lauren asked, panic edged her voice.

  “I’m going to meet him.” Macie stomach rolled. She wasn’t sure if she was going to be sick or if this was just some weird reaction to her excitement. They felt oddly the same.

  “Who?” Lauren yawned so it sounded more like an owl than a person.

  “Guy. From the app. Guy!”

  “Holy crap!” Lauren screeched. Macie imagined her sitting upright so fast that all the pillows on her couch fell to the floor. Maybe she knocked Ford over in the process.

  Macie pulled the phone away from her ear. “Yeah, holy crap. What the hell do I do now?”

  “When? Where? What time?”

  “Tuesday. And I’m not telling you where.” Macie grinned. “You’ll show up, and I won’t go through with it.”

  “Spoilsport.” Lauren giggled. “I can’t wait to tell Ford.”

  “No, don’t. If this is the fail to end all fails, I don’t want him to know. He might tell Zac and I’d never live it down. Just... I don’t want anyone to know.” Macie’s eyes watered as fear gripped her chest. “Please? Just between us.”

  “Okay, but you have to call me the minute you can. Even if it’s the next morning,” Lauren said.

  “Believe me, if this guy is everything I hope he is, I won’t call you for a week.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ford sat at their designated table at Maciano’s, a favorite restaurant they’d eaten at every Monday since freshman year. It wasn’t anything expensive, but the Italian food was the best in the city. Maciano grew his own tomatoes, herbs, and peppers in a greenhouse on his farm an hour from city lines. It made all the difference in the world in Zac’s opinion. Ford liked their prices, even though he’d never paid. Zac always picked up the tab. It was easier and Zac didn’t mind. Ford refused at first, until they struck a deal. In exchange for the best marinara, Ford proofread all Zac’s papers and corrected his grammar. For Zac, it was a fair.

  “What’s up?” Ford asked, standing to shake Zac’s hand. “You look like you’ve either hit a bong or the lottery or gotten laid. I’m not sure which.”

  Zac shook his friend’s hand, an old-fashioned maneuver but one he’d come to appreciate in Ford. “Wrong on all accounts.” He pulled out his chair and settled into it, waving for the waiter who hurried over
. “Vodka tonic please.”

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter said as he dipped his head in a bow before scurrying toward the bar.

  “So, what’s with the good mood?” Ford sipped his water and raised his eyebrows.

  “I have a date.” Zac lifted his menu and glanced over it as if he’d order something other than the marinara. But it never hurt to look.

  “Which is different from any other time you have a date?” Ford reached out and took Zac’s menu.

  Zac leaned forward so Ford wouldn’t miss his words or his meaning. “It’s with her.”

  “Her?” Ford asked, his eyebrows slanted downward into a V. He almost looked like a Vulcan.

  Zac nodded, his grin stretched his skin to the point it actually hurt. Not that a little pain could wipe away this feeling of joy.

  “The girl? From the app?” Doubt creased Ford’s mouth, forcing it into a straight line. “Seriously?”

  “Tuesday.” Zac leaned back when the waiter brought his drink and a basket of fresh breadsticks. “Thank you,” Zac said to the waiter. “We’re ready to order.”

  When the waiter stepped away from the table with their orders, Ford asked again, “Seriously?”

  “As serious as you are about marrying Lauren.”

  “This Tuesday? As in tomorrow?”

  “Oh for crying out loud, yes.” Zac downed his drink in one gulp. “Tuesday.”

  “Whose idea?” Ford freed a breadstick from the basket and set it on a small plate.

  “Mine.” Zac reached for one of his own and stopped midway. “Does it matter?”

  Ford shrugged. “Guess not. Who picked the location?”

  “Me. Why?” Zac drew out the last word. He didn’t like what Ford was implying.

  “Just asking.” Ford ate his breadstick slowly, chewing every bit while Zac waited impatiently for more. “How’re you going to know it’s her?”

  “Roses. Why?” Zac clenched his fists. He didn’t like where Ford was going. It curled his stomach.

  “Red?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Ford smiled. “I’m just messing with you, man. You’ve never been this giddy about meeting a girl. It’s an opportunity to screw with your head.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t resist.”

  “You’re a jerk. I don’t care how angelic you come across, you are a jerk.” Zac relaxed, each muscle aching from where he’d tightened up. He stared over Ford’s head at the mural Maciano painted himself. It was of an Italian hillside and Maciano claimed it was where he’d met his wife. The hills were a flat green and the people had no real faces. The buildings were white squares with red triangle roofs, but none of that prevented it from being charming. “I don’t want to screw this up, Ford. She could be it. She could be the one.”

  “And they say I’m the romantic.”

  Zac threw a piece of bread at his friend. “You are. And it must have rubbed off on me.”

  Ford laughed. “I can’t wait to tell Lauren. She’s been wanting to set you up for years.”

  “No. No Lauren. It’ll get back to Macie and I don’t want to hear it from her.” Zac’s phone buzzed in his pocked. He pulled it free and groaned. “Speak of the devil. She wants to talk about your bachelor party.”

  “It’s Lauren’s party, too.” Ford pointed at Zac. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Man, I wanted to see your face when you got a lap dance.” Zac glanced at his phone and tapped out a quick response. “I’ll see if she’s available this weekend or something. We can get the plans together then, okay?”

  “I don’t care when you meet her, but Lauren said she’s working on the weekends. Fair warning.”

  The waiter arrived with their food and the topic of conversation turned to the wedding. Zac let Ford talk about all the little details, even though Zac couldn’t care less. He was just glad Ford was investing his share of the sale of Blind Friends. It would make his and Lauren’s lives easier in the long run.

  “Did you even hear me?” Ford asked.

  “What?” Zac’s thoughts had trailed off toward money-land and work. He wanted to talk to Lauren about investing her share, but he hadn’t brought it up to her yet. Or to Ford. Maybe he should talk to Macie about doing the same.

  “I said that if it goes well with mystery girl, she could end up being your date to my wedding.”

  Zac sat up straighter. He hadn’t thought that far in advance. A smile grew over his lips. “Yeah, she could.”

  TUESDAYS WERE NOW LAUNDRY day. Macie didn’t have time on the weekends to do much of anything. Mondays were reserved for cleaning, working on freelance projects, and watching Netflix. Unless she got called into work, of course. Fortunately, there was a laundry room in the basement of the building. She started early and finished just in time for Nancy Carter to call her in. At least her work clothes were clean. Not that the station had a strict dress code for her department, but Macie made it a point to look business casual. As long as it didn’t require dresses and skirts. That was crossing the line. Her work attire consisted of black dress pants, dark button-down shirts, and black flats. It was a serious sacrifice of style, but Macie thought it was worth it. She preferred the shorts and t-shirts she wore every day of college. Her skater skirts were only for nights at the club. And she missed wearing her favorite Chucks, a red so faded that they looked vintage.

  It took her less then twenty minutes to get dressed and get to work.

  “Macie, thank God you’re finally here.” Nancy ushered Macie to her office. The news team geared up for the noon broadcast, which lead to chaos. Macie loved the craziness of it all. Nancy pointed to a chair in front of her desk, and Macie sat on the edge. “Ian quit. No notice. Just said fuck this, and left. Couldn’t even finish out the damn day.” Nancy shook her head and lifted her fingers to her lips. She fake smoked a pen. “I know it’s your day off, but I need you to finish what he started.”

  “Sure, no problem. But I have to leave at five.” Macie didn’t want to come right out and say she had a date. It wasn’t any of Nancy’s business anyway. But she should’ve known better.

  “Hot date, huh?” Nancy snapped forward in her chair. “Just don’t let Mark know. He’s still got a thing for you.”

  Macie grimaced. She regretted flirting with him like she had. It had disaster written all over it before it even happened, but once they started working together, it was worse. He’d hang out near her office just to say hi or make a point to talk to her about something they had broadcast or he’d seen somewhere. He was a nice guy, but they had nothing in common. Every interaction was awkward. Interoffice dating, never a good idea.

  “I’ll get you out of here by five.” She handed over a file. “Ian’s notes and computer access. Everything he was working on is on his computer so that will be easier for you.”

  “Great. And you’re giving me a tetanus shot first, right?”

  Nancy smiled. “Buck up, kid, and deal with it.” Nancy pulled a can of Lysol from her desk drawer. “But this might help.”

  Macie took the can with a groan. “At least I get overtime for this. Remind me to kick Ian in the balls if I see him again.”

  “Beat me to it,” Nancy said, but she’d already shifted gears to another problem. “Tell Barb to get her ass in here, too.”

  Macie didn’t even bother to respond. She stepped out of Nancy’s office and stopped at Barb’s desk. “What happened to Ian?”

  Barb glanced around, searching for prying eyes. She pushed her square glasses up on her long nose. “You know that new guy? Alex?”

  Macie nodded. It was more like she knew of him, but either way.

  “Well, he wanted Ian to do a graphic a different way.” Barb glanced around again. It wasn’t like this wouldn’t be around the entire station before the six o’clock news. “Ian wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed. Then Alex came back after Ian sent the new graphic and called him every name in the book. Ian took it until Alex walked away, then he said fuck this and left.”

  “What did
Nancy say?” Macie wondered if her boss would have her back.

  Barb shrugged and went back to whatever she was typing. Either Nancy wasn’t surprised by this development or she didn’t think twice about it and had already moved on. Barb knew everything that went on in the station. The older woman had worked there before they closed the news department. She was the first person they brought back, too. She was probably a better investigative reporter than most of the journalists on their team.

  Macie shook her head. If Nancy didn’t say anything, she probably didn’t know the entire story. Then again, Nancy knew everything that went on inside these walls. Something else was going on. As long as it didn’t directly affect Macie, she really didn’t care. Ian was an alright guy, but he was a subpar designer. He half-assed everything and only did what he needed to get by. And he was a colossal slob.

  “Oh, Nancy wants you asap,” Macie added as an afterthought. Bara rolled her eyes and shot out of her chair like a rabbit.

  When Macie got to the graphics department’s closet-sized office, she immediately backed up all of Ian’s files. Even his keyboard was sticky. Macie shuddered. How could one person create so much trash and just leave like that? She didn’t even want to think about what his apartment looked like. Macie used a Clorox wipe on her fingers and sprayed Lysol around Ian’s cubicle. Housekeeping didn’t even bother cleaning his desk. Hopefully they would now that he was gone. They should get hazard pay for it, too.

  Ian’s phone rang. Macie glanced around the office, but she was the only person there. With a shrug, she picked up the receiver. She didn’t even get a chance to say a word.

  “Look you little rat fuck, I don’t know what your problem is and I don’t really care. Get that damn graphic done in the next two minutes or I’m going to come down there and beat your lazy, fat ass.”

  Macie raised her eyebrows and pulled the receiver away from her face. She did the only thing any self-respecting woman would do. She hung up. The minute her butt hit her chair at her desk, Ian’s phone rang again. And again. She thought about unplugging it, but then she had a better idea. She grabbed her cell phone and rolled across the floor into his cubicle. Before picking up the phone, she pressed record on her voice recorder.

 

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