Izzy rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. One of the new interns.”
“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out. She’s a little older than the normal crew. She might teach me a thing or two, if you know what I mean.”
Izzy pointed at her. “See? You’re definitely not the audience for the first part of the book.”
“But I can share some thoughts. I haven’t always been the confident huntress you see before you. I had to learn some moves.”
“I am so far out of my comfort zone here.” Izzy sighed and leaned her hip against the counter.
Audie patted her on the arm. “Not to worry. You’re in good hands.” She intertwined her hands and rested her chin on them as her eyes drifted to the ceiling. Seconds later, she bounced and looked at Izzy. “You have to let people know it’s not always obvious. You gotta take chances. You need to put yourself out there and accept that it’s not gonna just fall into your lap.” She winked. “At least for everybody. And it can get messy sometimes. But it’s worth it, right? They need to know it’s worth it.”
Maybe Audie could help, after all.
* * *
Are you ready for romance?
You might think the first step to finding lasting love is getting out there to find it.
It’s not.
The first step to finding love is opening yourself to the idea of being in love. Most people think if they’re out there trying to find someone, naturally, they’re open to it, right? Wrong. Going through the motions of looking for love and opening yourself to actually being in love are two very different things.
Some lucky individuals find love without any effort at all, while most of us have to work at it. And for some people, no matter how often they look, they never seem to find it. Why? Because they’re not really open to it. They’re cynical. They’re skeptical. They’re afraid. Whatever they are, they’re disappointed in their efforts to find love. They grow increasingly frustrated, sometimes even bitter, when they meet person after person, but something always seems to be off. Things don’t click. So they keep moving, looking for that special something, and never seem to find it.
They never find love because they have barriers around their hearts. Barriers they might not even realize are there. Not finding love becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Opening yourself to love means introspection and understanding what love really means to you. It means figuring out what you need from another person. It means finding your barriers and taking them down. In some cases, the barriers are so solid, they can’t be removed. They’ve become a part of you. But being aware of them will help you figure out how to navigate around them.
The point I’m trying to make is, looking inside and finding out what makes you the person you are is a good start to finding love. And once you figure it out, finding love will be a whole lot easier.
Chapter Four
“Sweet!” Izzy sang to herself as she backed her Tesla into the only open slot of the row of charging stations in front of Whole Foods. “Gus, this is our lucky day. An open charger at the grocery store on a Saturday evening. The stars must be aligned for us today. What do you think?”
Gus, Izzy’s Australian heeler-Lab mix, leaned over and licked Izzy’s face as she unbuckled his restraining harness. He hopped across the console and followed her out of the driver’s door and sat next to Izzy as she hooked up the charging cable. Gus didn’t need a leash. He was a good dog, but Izzy clipped one onto his collar after she grabbed a reusable grocery bag from the car, and they made their way to the store. San Jose had leash laws; besides, not all other dogs were as good as he was, and she wanted to keep him safe.
Izzy spotted a familiar face as they neared the front entrance. “Hey, Gus, your friend Lucy is here.” A large square of artificial turf was situated next to a row of water dishes and bone-shaped handles mounted to the wall. Gus’s ears perked up, and his tail wagged as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour running all over the dog park with Lucy, who was lying next to a half-full water dish. The fourteen-year-old Lab was pooped. At six years old, Gus still had a ton of energy left, even after an earlier five-mile run and an hour of nonstop frolicking at the dog park. Izzy gave them each a treat and headed into the store.
Air-conditioning and the unique health-food scent of the market assailed Izzy’s senses. Young men with thick beards and overly thin women in hemp yoga attire roamed the aisles. Izzy headed over to the produce bins to pick out a small variety of seasonal apples.
“Are those good?”
Izzy looked up as she reached for a Gala. Across the mounded display of shiny fruit, a pretty woman dressed in a loose T-shirt, warm-up pants, and flip-flops smiled at her.
Izzy smiled back. “I like them. They’re nice and sweet.” She barely acknowledged the flare of attraction that warmed her chest when the woman looked at her.
The woman picked one up and studied it. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
Izzy laughed. “Me? No. I usually buy what I know. Gala, Granny Smith, Fuji, Braeburn, and Honeycrisp.”
“You had me fooled.” The woman tossed back her hair.
“I’m just an amateur apple shopper.” She pointed to the produce manager. “She’s the expert.”
The woman looked to where Izzy pointed, and Izzy turned toward the cashiers. The produce manager knew her stuff. She’d give the pretty woman some good apple advice.
Even for a Saturday evening, the store was busier than usual, with lines at all of the cashiers. Izzy got in line at the express register and read the magazine headlines as the shoppers ahead of her rang up their groceries. She picked a magazine featuring a chicken coop on the cover. Maybe she could produce her own eggs. She thumbed through the magazine while the guy a few people in front of her rang up his kambucha and meatless hot dogs.
“Ooh, Casanova! Did you get her number?”
A familiar voice sounded just before an arm wrapped around her from behind.
“You truly are stalking me!”
Audie let go and shifted her basket. “If I were stalking you, I’d use the keys you gave me to your house and hide in your shower. But answer the question. Did you get her number?”
“You scare the hell out of me, you know that?” The line moved forward, and Izzy put her apples on the belt. “You lost me. Whose number?” Izzy knew who she was talking about. She just didn’t want to get into another conversation with Audie about the pointless exercise of flirting when it wouldn’t go any further anyway. No one wanted damaged goods.
The guy behind them gestured to Audie to put her stuff on the belt as well. Audie looked him up and down and smiled. “Oh, aren’t you cute, letting me cut in line.” The guy smiled back, and Audie put her basket on the belt.
Now Audie was another story. Izzy had no doubt Audie would have left with the guy’s phone number if Izzy hadn’t been there. Izzy snorted. “You’re unreal.”
Audie winked at the guy and turned back to her. She gestured toward the produce section. “The apple lady. I saw you talking to her. I watched from afar so as not to interrupt your pickup moves.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t picking her up.”
Audie grabbed her forearms. “I know. I saw everything. She was picking you up.”
Izzy looked around to see if anyone was listening. The guy behind them definitely was. She lowered her voice. “She was not!”
“She most certainly was. The watching, the laughing, the hair flip. She was into you, my friend. Are you blind?”
Izzy made it to the cashier and paid for her produce while the cashier bagged it.
“She was asking me about fruit. That was all. Just one shopper to another. I referred her to the produce manager.” Izzy glanced toward the apple section as she thanked the cashier. The apple lady was doing the hair-flip thing talking to the produce manager.
“She was interested in more than apples, my friend.” Audie paid for her groceries, and they walked out of the store.
But I’m not
. Audie knew it, too. Yet it didn’t keep her from hoping Izzy would someday jump into the dating pool. “Well, it looks like the produce manager is giving her what she’s looking for. Just know it could have been you.” She gathered Gus, who was lying next to Lucy, where she’d left him.
Izzy rolled her eyes at Audie. “Stop it.”
“What am I gonna do with your mama, Gus?” Audie knelt in front of Gus, who sat up, wagging his tail vigorously. “She isn’t even open to obvious flirtation, let alone love.”
“Tell your Auntie Audie she’s a nut, Gus.”
Audie stood and patted Gus’s head before lifting her grocery bag. “You’re going to have to figure this stuff out if you plan to write your book, you know.”
“I think I can write it without having to live it. You’re the one who said I gave great advice.” Izzy swung her bag of apples.
“It’s true.” Audie followed her into the parking lot. “I wonder where your knowledge comes from.”
“Common sense, mostly.” Izzy stopped next to her car.
Audie kept walking but responded over her shoulder. “Common sense is overrated when it comes to matters of the heart.” She waved. “Anyway, see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!”
Izzy put her groceries in the backseat of her car as she watched Audie get into her little red convertible Volkswagen and drive away. Gus jumped into the Tesla and took his spot on the front seat.
She mulled over what Audie had said as she unplugged the charging cable. She’d decided to write the book, was excited about it. She even had some ideas about what to put in it. But maybe she needed to think more like a person who would be reading the book. She could be open to it without actually doing it. Couldn’t she?
* * *
Dating means different things to different people. For some, it means meeting various people to see what’s out there before settling down. For others, it’s all about the variety, period. Still others are looking for their soul mate.
What are you looking for? Are you in it for casual companionship? Or are you looking for your Happily Ever After?
Either way, figure out what you’re looking for before you throw yourself out there. You shouldn’t try to figure it out on the fly. Otherwise you might be stuck in the awkward position of saying no to a second date with a person who just spent a whole month’s salary trying to impress you.
It’s not just a matter of figuring out what color eyes you prefer or what turns you on in bed, although that’s important, too. It’s also about knowing what motivates someone. Sometimes, knowing what you don’t want is a start to figuring out what you do want. A good way to do this is to make a couple of lists: one for what you want in a potential love interest and one for what you don’t.
I have this friend, we’ll call her “Audie.” Now, Audie is a free-spirited person. To know her is to know how not picky she is. She loves all kinds of people, and she’s attracted to what’s on the inside. The outside doesn’t matter to her at all. Or at least that’s what she thought. It turns out, Audie has certain piercings in delicate places that can easily get tangled if her partner also has similar piercings. She learned this the hard way and had to make a call to a very good friend (me), who helped her out of an exceptionally embarrassing situation. Believe me, this experience traumatized everyone involved. Now, Audie would rather not date a person with piercings in those particular places—and she still owes her very good friend (me), big time!
The moral to the story about my friend Audie is this: you may think you’re pretty open-minded about who you date, but there’s always a deal breaker.
Chapter Five
Izzy stood in front of the wall of snacks in the orange breakroom absently tapping an empty biodegradable cup against the counter and staring at the food but not seeing it. Ideas for the first few chapters of the guide were streaming through her mind. What were people looking for in a relationship?
All of her research said to narrow your options before you go out there. Otherwise you’ll end up dating a lot of frogs before finding your prince or princess. It made sense. Compatibility was key. Back when she started college, she doubted she saw much past a pretty face and a nice smile. Kelly’s face came to mind. Maybe she’d had bad luck with Kelly because she never really took the time to decide what she wanted. She shook her head. She didn’t want to dwell on that particular hell from her past, so she pushed the thoughts from her mind. It was twenty-five years later, for Christ’s sake. She’d survived and learned, which was what mattered.
Now, what would she look for in a partner? She didn’t have a “type,” but she did have some fundamental preferences. Someone with a good sense of humor, for one. Not just someone who appreciated a joke or two, but someone who would make her laugh. And her dream girl—if she were interested in one, which she wasn’t, thanks to Kelly—had to be perceptive and intuitive. People who always seemed to be oblivious to the needs of those around them drove her crazy. Smart was a no-brainer. Looks didn’t matter too much to her. Although she wanted someone who was active, she didn’t care if they were overweight as long as they could go on bike rides with her and take hikes. Of course, all of this was theoretical. She wasn’t interested in dating anyone; she just needed to go through the exercise of how she’d figure out what her dating requirements were so she could write a book about it.
“Hi, um, do you know where I can get a cup like that?”
The voice roused Izzy from her musings. She turned, and her eyes refocused. A woman she didn’t remember seeing around campus was standing next to her, pointing to the empty cup she held. Izzy’s stomach did a little flip. She would have remembered seeing this woman before. She was striking—a little taller than her, with luxurious, long, black hair pulled back from her face in some sort of tie but hanging free down her back. Her eyes were large and dark, almost black, but sparkling with light. Izzy mentally shook herself.
“Hmm? I’m sorry. What did you say?” Izzy hoped the woman didn’t think she was checking her out. Even though she sort of was. She might avoid relationships, but she wasn’t dead inside.
The woman backed up a step. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you a developer? Did I interrupt some sort of creative zone just now? I’m so sorry.”
Izzy laughed. “No. I’m in the tech writing group. I was thinking about what I was writing. It wasn’t going well, so I’m glad you interrupted. The cups are in the drawer over there.” She pointed to a credenza.
The woman opened the drawer and selected a cup from the stack. “Ah. I was afraid I had to bring my own or something. The new-hire orientation is pretty emphatic on the reuse, repurpose, recycle thing.” The woman used air quotes to emphasize the company’s environmental mantra.
Izzy laughed. The company was a bit militant about the use of plastics on campus. “They’re biodegradable, so you’re safe. Never bring a single-use bottle into this campus, though. We’ll run you off with a pitchfork.”
The woman’s beautiful eyes grew large, but amusement flashed in their depths. “That was definitely my takeaway.”
Izzy held out her hand. “I’m Izzy Treadway. So…you’re new.”
“Jane Mendoza.” The woman took her hand. Her hand was soft with a firm grip. “I’m a summer intern. I started yesterday.”
“An intern?” Not that she was judging, but she was. If Izzy had to guess, she put the woman in her early thirties. Most interns were usually college students.
“Weird, right? I skewed the median age chart for this round of orientation. I’m actually a professor over at Bay Shores, and I’m shadowing the intern program this summer. Quite a few of our students intern here, and I wanted to know more about it firsthand so I could provide better guidance to those interested in Gigify. So, here I am.”
Jane had a nice smile.
“Here you are,” Izzy said, smiling back. “How do you like it?”
“So far, I love it.” Jane pulled her hair over her left shoulder. The gesture was casual, but Izzy was reminded of classic screen stars.<
br />
“Which team are you working with?”
“The development team.”
“Interesting.” Was this the “tasty morsel” Audie had been talking about? The description was an understatement—and a bit rude, if Izzy really thought about it.
“I teach IT systems and have a remedial coding background, but I’m no expert. My mentor is teaching me as we go along. Do you know Hector de la Cruz?”
She was the woman Audie had mentioned. Hector took an intern under his wing every summer, and they almost always landed a job in a great firm, if Gigify didn’t immediately hire them upon graduation. Jane was lucky she ended up with him.
“Yeah, I know Hector. Is this a possible career change?”
Jane scanned the snack wall. “It’s a fun diversion for the summer, but I like teaching.”
Izzy gestured to the wall like a game-show host. “Welcome to the bane of my existence. The bulk-snack wall. We have one in every breakroom on each floor. Wherever you go, there they are. Name your poison.”
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence they tell you about the fully stocked breakrooms and the daily boot camps in the same breath during in-processing. This could be a temptation my thighs should live without,” Jane said. But she placed her cup under the spout of Peanut M&M’s.
Izzy knew right then that they would be friends.
Jane turned the dispenser knob, and three candies plopped out.
“There’s an art to the pour,” Izzy said. “Would you like the tutorial?” She’d been about to leave because she had a meeting in five minutes. But Jane was so…interesting.
Jane stepped aside. “By all means.”
Did Jane just look her up and down? A warm rush flowed across Izzy’s body, and her hand shook when she reached for the dispenser.
The unit was a low-tech, crank-and-pour apparatus. Izzy cleared her throat and steadied her hand. “A full turn is too much. Just a half click to the right, and the chute stays open. The magic is in the perfect rotation of the knob.”
No Experience Required Page 3