by Mysti Parker
Leigh opened the door and stepped into Bride Pride.
Avery, busy with some customers near the fitting rooms, waved her over. “Leigh! Come here, sweetie.”
Today must have been Treat Leigh Like a Kid Day.
Leigh smiled and shook her head. “Yes, ma’am?” She headed to where Avery stood with a woman in a flamingo pink bridesmaid dress.
Three angled mirrors showed a full-figured, flushed woman who looked like she could bite through nails.
“For God’s sake,” the woman cried, throwing her hands up in the air. “Do you have to bring everyone in to watch? Just cut the thing off already.”
“Oh, hell no,” Avery shot back. “That’s an Alfred Angelo. It’s worth more than your Coach purse.” Avery glanced at Leigh, her eyes flashing with pent-up frustration that could erupt into an ugly fit of rage at any moment. “It’s just a batch of bad zippers. I’ll return them all and get better ones.”
“Whatever. Just get it off.” The stuck zipper strained halfway down the woman’s back and didn’t look like it could zip up at all, stuck or not.
“Leigh, any ideas besides cutting up an Alfred Angelo?” Avery asked. For a five-foot two-inch petite woman, she had an incredible temper. She yanked the blue silk headband from her blonde bob cut and tossed it over her shoulder, growling with frustration.
“Well…” Leigh laid a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”
The woman exhaled and put a hand on her hip. “Michelle. And what are you? A first responder?”
“No, I’m Leigh Meriwether. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She let her English accent become a little more pronounced.
Michelle’s expression softened a bit. “Thanks. Normally, I’d love to chat, but I really need to get out of this thing.”
“Okay, let’s try something…” Leigh dug through her purse and found a tube of lip balm. She opened it, applied some of the balm to the teeth of the zipper and massaged it in. A couple of tugs was all it took to get it unzipped.
Michelle’s eyes went wide. “You’re a freaking genius!”
“Not really. I just read a lot of Better Homes & Gardens.” Leigh smiled, thinking about Jesse and his feng shui. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer. But she squashed that notion as fast as it came. She couldn’t risk getting close to a client outside the office, not with only a few hundred hours left to get her license and Dr. Gadbury breathing down her neck all the time.
“Thanks so much. I’d hate to rip this thing and have to pay for it.” Michelle gave Avery one last glare before she retreated to the changing room.
“Oh my God, I thought one of us was going down,” Avery said, sinking into an overstuffed armchair nearby. “Thank God she’s the last one, and thank you for coming to the rescue.”
Leigh sat in a less-stuffed chair next to her. “Did I have a choice?”
“Not really. You want to stay, you have to work,” Avery said with a grin. “That was a cool trick with the lip balm. I should kick myself for not coming up with that on my own.” She glanced toward the dressing room, then whispered, “I try to avoid telling women that they’ve gained weight since their last fitting since the time a whole wedding party stormed out when I told them the truth. Now I’m thinking, fuck that, it’s not worth the hassle. I’ll just have to let her dress out again, if there’s enough fabric left, that is.”
Leigh laughed. “That’s probably a wise thing to do.”
“Yeah. I need to do something crazy to relieve some stress.”
“What, like take up running?”
“I’m not that crazy.”
Michelle came out of the dressing room, carrying her dress, and went to the counter where one of Avery’s employees, Glen, offered her a sympathetic frown. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“The zippers are crap,” Michelle said.
“Hmm.” He looked over at Avery and shouted, “The zippers are crap!” Then he winked, not at all trying to hide it. “We’ll get it fixed up for you, honey. Don’t you worry.”
“I swear, if my sister winds up divorced for a third time, I’m not going to be a bridesmaid.” Michelle held her purse strap with white-knuckled fingers and stomped out the door.
Glen followed, locking it behind her. Then he flipped the Open sign to Closed. “That’s a wrap!”
“I really should be mad at you,” Avery called out to him, “but I’m too damned tired to care.”
“Jeff and I are going to the movies. Want to come along?”
“No, I’ve got plans, but thanks for asking.”
“Okay.” He walked toward the back of the store. “Bye, Ave. Bye, Leigh. Don’t get too crazy, but if you do, put it online and sell it.”
“Get out of here, you nut,” Avery said with a dismissive wave then turned to Leigh. “I swear, he and Jeff must be the only gay couple in Beach Pointe. He keeps trying to convert me.”
“Good luck with that.”
“No kidding. Now what’s going on with you?”
Leigh sat up, fidgeting with the fringe on one of the pillows in her chair. “Never mind. It can wait.”
“No, ma’am, it cannot. Tell me what’s up. I need to rest my feet for a while anyway.”
Leigh took a deep breath, second-guessing her decision to bring Avery into her most recent troubles. This place, along with the beauty shop, was gossip central. Could she trust her friend to keep her mouth shut, considering how Jesse had treated Avery in the past?
As if Avery read her mind, she slumped farther in the chair and rested her head on her hand. “I won’t go blabbing about anything. Spill it.”
“Okay, then. There’s this guy…”
Avery’s eyes widened just a bit. “No way.”
Leigh play-swatted at her and laughed. “Yes way. He’s my newest client and well, I don’t know, I just never expected to see him there.”
“Is he a lunatic?”
“No, I don’t get a lot of those, thank goodness. He’s someone with a bad reputation in town. He came to me with extreme guilt and insomnia. So I told him to make a list of all the people he had wronged, apologize, and do something kind for them. At first I thought he was beyond redemption, that he’d try a couple of half-hearted ‘I’m sorry’s and be done with it. But he’s sticking with it and doing really nice things for people.”
“I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is…” Leigh shifted in her chair, unable to look Avery in the eye.
Avery gasped and sat up at attention. “Oh my God, you’re falling for him! Our Leigh just may not be celibate for the rest of her life after all. Who is it?”
Nope, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Avery had already had a bad day. She’d blow her top if she knew who Leigh was attracted to. “I can’t tell you, and it’s not funny.”
“Not at all. I mean, you could get in trouble messing around with one of your clients, right?”
“Right, and I have to keep my nose clean if I want to pass my certification exam and open my own practice.”
“True, but I’m assuming he’ll finish his sessions eventually, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So what would keep you from hooking up with him after that?”
“A million things. I mean, he’s… And I’m…You know I’m not a sure thing for the long haul.”
“I’ve heard all that before. No reason to deny yourself love as long as you’re on this side of the dirt.”
“And he’s…” It wouldn’t do any good to mention the one memory Leigh had of young Jesse Maddox. Even now it brought a knot to her throat and made her lip tremble. Avery knew his bad side far too well for Leigh to ruin the evening by bringing it up.
“Hey,” Avery said, leaning in to take Leigh’s hand. “Stop worrying so much and go out with me.”
“Where?”
“Some place that might give you a little practice when it comes to men.”
Leigh cringed in her chair. “Where? The bar? W
ay too much cigarette smoke and men who have no control of their hands.”
“Nope. It’s new in town. No smoke, wandering hands, or commitment. Let’s go.” Avery jumped up, her energy level back to its usual hyperactive, and headed for the counter.
Leigh followed, not nearly as energetic or eager. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”
“Not until you promise you’ll go and not be a stick in the mud. Besides, you don’t have a ride.”
“So this is a kidnapping?”
“Damn right.”
“Okay, fine. Where is it?”
Avery fetched her purse from the locked drawer behind the counter and looked at Leigh with a devilish grin. “Speed dating.”
“Oh Lord, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Chapter Twelve
The Beach Pointe Community Center was like every other such building in small town USA—a nondescript brick containment unit, complete with a gym floor, a kitchen, and an insane amount of folding tables and chairs. Your basic all-purpose event space. And tonight’s event, according to the changeable letter sign with the arrow made of light bulbs, was June 1 – SPE D DATING. An E may have been missing, but the community center’s purpose for the evening was loud and clear.
“Shit,” Jesse muttered, pulling into an empty space on the street. His jackass brother had set him up to be humiliated in public. No way was he going in there.
He shifted to reverse and started backing up. A red Ferrari pulled up beside him, window rolled down.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Jack said. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“You can’t expect me to go in there.”
“Yes, I can. I saved your ass. You wouldn’t want me calling up Mrs. Donner to tell her the way things really went down, would you?”
“You wouldn’t,” Jesse muttered.
“Want to bet on that?
“Okay, okay. Fine.” Jesse pulled back into the space and got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him.
Jack was dressed to the nines in a tailor-made charcoal gray suit and a royal blue tie, his dark hair sleeked up like that rich guy in Fifty Shades of Jerks or whatever it was. He joined Jesse on the sidewalk. A couple of women in short skirts walked stiffly by in heels they probably reserved for nights like this. They eyed Jack like candy. He flashed a winning smile at them both. They giggled and almost fell over themselves. Of course, they would flock to him—he reeked of free-flowing cash. Jesse, on the other hand, wasn’t impressing anybody in his jeans, worn boots, a gray T-shirt, and an old blazer he’d borrowed from Sylvester.
“This is stupid,” Jesse said, turning back to the truck.
“No.” Jack grabbed his arm. “Come on. We had a deal.”
“Deal or no deal, what’s a rich son of a bitch like you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be schmoozing at the country club or something?”
“Are you kidding? A bunch of unhappily married cougars on the prowl isn’t my idea of a good time. This is the perfect place to browse the single lady merchandise. Having you tag along with me will let them think it was your idea, not mine, and there’s the whole ugly by comparison thing. Makes me even more attractive. Plus, I’m bored. Need to change things up a bit.”
“You sound like a dirty politician. Don’t you want to settle down? Have a family?”
“Hell no. What’s the point? A decade of misery if you’re lucky, then a lifetime of alimony and child support.”
“Not if you find the right woman.”
“Hate to break it to you, but the whole true love thing is for Disney movies. Loosen up, take a girl home, have a good time, and let her go. No strings attached.” Jack dragged him up the concrete steps.
Before they reached the door, Jesse stopped him. “Hey, listen. I’ve been seeing a counselor.”
Jack’s eyebrows arched. “Really? Since when?”
Like Jesse, his brother’s experience with counseling was bad at best. It hadn’t helped their parents to stay together and seemed to make things worse.
“Doesn’t matter, but I need to apologize for…the stuff that happened back then.” Jesse couldn’t force his mouth to utter a more detailed apology. Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away, staring at the sidewalk so his brother didn’t see.
Jack sighed, crushing someone’s still-lit cigarette butt with his shoe. “I don’t really feel like dredging this up now. Let’s just go in and forget you ever mentioned it, okay?”
Jack pulled Jesse through the metal door before he had a chance to respond. He figured Jack would be the biggest challenge on his list. It might be the one name he’d never cross out. No matter now. They were already getting the head-to-toe eye sweep from a group of women nearby.
The place smelled like cheap cologne and desperation. There was no turning back now unless he broke free and ran for his life, which he shelved as still being a viable option if the night went up in flames. Inside, a small crowd of twenty and thirty-something men meandered about with drinks in hand. A few women hurried for booths set up around the perimeter of the room that reminded Jesse of temporary tax prep stations you'd find in a department store. Each had an eight by ten sheet of paper with a number taped to the outside. The partitions made it hard to see who waited behind them. His gut churned—he really didn’t care to find out.
They arrived at the sign-in table where the mayor’s wife, Cloris McDougall, an older lady with poofy white hair and thick glasses, manned the table. “Here are your date logs and name tags, boys. Have fun. There’s a cash bar in the back. You’ve got about ten minutes before things get started. The event lasts about an hour, and you get six minutes with each woman. I recommend a mint julep to warm up.”
Jack chuckled. “I like her.”
“She had me at cash bar.” Jesse stuck his name tag on his shirt. "Let's get this over with."
They made their way to the cash bar, which was set up in the open window between the gym and kitchen.
Jack winked at the college girls acting as bartenders. “A couple of mint juleps for my brother and me, please.”
Once they finished whisper-arguing over who would talk to the “hot, rich guy,” one of them stepped forward. “Okay, so like, that’ll be ten dollars.”
Jack tossed down a twenty. “Keep the change.”
The girl’s face turned red. While Jack and Jesse waited for them to figure out what went in a mint julep, Jesse stared at his dating log. There were numbered blank lines and he had no idea what to do with them.
“You’ve never speed-dated before?” Jack asked, pretending to be surprised.
“Oh yeah, more than I can count, but just so I know that you know how this works, please do explain.”
“See all the booths set up around the room?”
“Yeah?”
“Each of them are numbered. The ladies will be seated. The guys go from table to table. It doesn't matter where you start. You get six minutes to talk to each woman before the bell rings, then you move on to the next highest number on the list. You’ll write down the women’s names and check off whether you're interested or not. Then you can log in to the event’s website and record your results to get your best matches.”
“Sounds complicated and mechanical. What happened to the good old-fashioned date? You know, you go to the lady’s house, pick her up, give her flowers, show her a good time, and bring her home?”
“You were born in the wrong decade, I swear. Just go with it. I’ll be playing the part of the philanthropic man helping his poor, lonely big brother find love.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Runs in the family apparently.”
The college girl bartenders finally handed them some clear plastic cups of what looked like mint juleps but tasted like watered down mouthwash.
A bell rang. Jesse looked around to see the white-haired lady with a handbell held high. “Go get your dates, boys! Six minutes each. Be polite, talk to each woman, don’t get wasted, and don’t ask for
phone numbers.”
"Batter up!" Jack said, nudging Jesse toward booth one, while he headed for booth two.
The other guys parted in Jack's wake. He'd always been the big dog, not because he was bigger or stronger, but he knew how to put the bluff on them with an overly confident air. It probably didn't hurt that he was richer than Scrooge McDuck, either.
What did Jesse have going for him? He lived with his ailing grandfather and had a badge. His best bet was finding a woman who loved men in uniform, but he wasn't even wearing one, so he'd have to go on charm. He'd also be following in Jack's wake with numbers two through ten.
He was doomed.
Jesse entered booth one and slid into the empty chair across from a woman with a linebacker's build, piercings everywhere, and one of those hairstyles that was long on one side and shaved on the other, dyed black. Tattoos ran from her fingers all the way up her forearms and disappeared under the rolled-up sleeves of her jean jacket. Jesse eased into his chair, not taking his eyes off this one. Her name tag read Brenda. Sure wasn’t like any Brenda he’d ever known. She could probably beat him easily in an arm wrestling match.
Brenda wrung her hands and cast nervous glances at him, but mostly stared at the table. Maybe her bark didn’t match her bite, or something.
Since she didn’t seem keen on initiating the conversation, he broke the silence. “Hi, I’m Jesse Maddox.”
She glanced at him before answering, "I’m Brenda..." Her last name drowned into an inaudible whisper.
"Okay." Jesse picked up the other pencil on the table and wrote Brenda Something in the name section for number two.
She wrote his name down and then sat there, shoulders slumped. Her attention was focused solely on her pencil as she doodled along the edge of her date log.
There were sample questions on the top of the form. He'd have to lead this conversation, or sit for six minutes in silence. "So...what do you do for a living?"
She whispered her response, most of which he couldn't hear. "Something, something library."
That explained things. "Okay, so you work at the library?"
She nodded. The chain that ran from her ear to her nose jingled.