The Romance Report

by Amy E. Lilly

  “His name is Marty. He’s thirty-two and we’ve only gone on two dates, but we have talked online every night for hours. He’s funny and smart.”

  “So when do we get to meet him?” Sean asked.

  “That might be a problem,” Indie said.

  “Why? Are you ashamed of us?”

  “No, Sean, it’s nothing like that. He’s incredibly shy and when he gets nervous he stutters.”

  “We’ll behave. Well, I will. I can’t control She- Ra,” Quinn jabbed a finger at Sean. “It’s normal to get nervous around new people.”

  “It’s not only new people. It’s any people. He’s much more comfortable behind a keyboard. The things he can type…”Indie said dreamily.

  “TMI! Type dirty to me, darling,” Sean joked.

  The waitress arrived with their breakfast and the three of them were silent for a few minutes while they ate. Indie, as usual, finished first and with a sigh of satisfaction, she leaned back and patted her belly.

  “I love bacon. Bacon for breakfast. Bacon for lunch. Bacon anytime. I do not know how in the world my parents have gone thirty years without eating meat. It’s just wrong.”

  “You used to be a vegetarian.” Quinn pointed out.

  “Not by choice. They don’t serve meat on the commune. I had to sneak meat from the other kids in high school. I couldn’t swap lunches with anyone because nobody wanted my tofurkey sandwich on sprouted bread. Blech!”

  “That doesn’t even sound appetizing,” Quinn said.

  “Quinn, I forgot to tell you I made an appointment for you,” Sean said between bites of his breakfast.

  “An appointment? For what?”

  “With the healer. If you want to change your luck, you need to remove the curse hovering over your love life.”

  “You know I don’t believe in that kind of thing,” Quinn protested.

  Sean dabbed delicately at the corner of his mouth. “You may not be a believer now, but after you meet with my person, trust me when I say, you’ll be convinced.”

  Quinn sighed, “I’ll go, but only because it will make you happy and it will be the only way I’ll have any peace from you.”

  “Like I would nag.” Sean pursed his lips and fluttered his eyelashes at Quinn.

  “Ha!” Indie scoffed. “I remember when you wanted me to go get a Brazilian wax. You nagged me every day until I caved in. Worst decision of my life, by the way. I’m still in therapy over the experience.”

  “Hmmm…I guess some people prefer to go wild. Anyway, we are going to see Angelica next week. She’s normally closed in the evenings, but since she’s family she made an exception.”

  “Why not. Nothing else is working for me, so I may as well throw caution and common sense to the wind.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Sean said.

  Quinn shook her head. She doubted it would work, but in for a penny in for a pound.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After breakfast, Quinn headed back to her apartment to do laundry. Indie and Sean planned to spend the day shopping for a new wig for Shawna’s new routine. Quinn grabbed a basket of colors and headed to the basement of the brownstone. She opened the door to the small laundry room and saw Zach was already there.

  “Oops. I’ll come back later,” Quinn said.

  “You don’t need to do that. I tossed my load into the dryer, so by the time your load is done washing, it will be free.”

  “Cool. With just Sundays off, it’s my only day to do laundry.”

  “You want to go grab the cup of coffee I promised while we wait?” Zach asked. He shut the door of the dryer, filled the coin slots with quarters and hit start.

  Quinn hesitated. She liked Zach, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  “Come on. I need some caffeine to help get me going this morning.”

  “Sure,” Quinn relented. It was coffee, not commitment she told herself.

  They walked to Espresso Yourself. The place was crowded, but Quinn managed to spot a vacant table in a far corner.

  “You grab the table, and I’ll get us some coffee,” Zach said.

  Quinn maneuvered her way through the café to the table and sat down. She heard her phone jingle in her purse. When she looked at the screen, she saw an unfamiliar number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Quinn. It’s me, Doug, from the other day in the grocery store. From Dr. Djos’ class. Remember?”

  “Oh, hi!” Quinn said. “I remember. How are you?”

  “Good. Listen, the reason I’m calling is I got lucky and scored some last minute tickets to a show at the Altria and I wanted you to come with me. It’s tonight. Do you want to go?”

  “I’d love to go.”

  “Awesome. I’ll pick you up at six, and we can get some dinner beforehand. What’s your address?”

  Quinn gave him her address. “I’ll see you tonight at six. Bye, Doug.”

  Zach set a cup of coffee down in front of her. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, a guy I went to college with called and wants to take me to the theater tonight.”

  “Guess we’ll have to postpone our Jackie Chan movie fest,” Zach said.

  “Oh, crud! I completely forgot about watching a movie with you. I feel bad now,” Quinn said.

  “You’ll have to bring me something you baked at work to make it up to me,” Zach said. “No worries. We’ll do it another time. I’m serious about the dessert from Hanrahan’s though. I read a review in the paper the other day that said that whoever bakes the desserts is a genius.”

  “I’ll definitely make you dessert. You read the review? I can’t believe I even rated a mention. I’ve never even been to cooking school.”

  “Some people are born with a natural talent for things. I can draw but can’t sing. My one sister has an amazing voice and could have pursued it professionally, but she decided to be an attorney instead. Susan said law feeds her body and music feeds her soul.”

  “I’m kind of at a crossroads myself on what to do. My uncle wants me to go to culinary school, but I’m not sure if I should. Both my parents are journalists. I’ve been working towards following in their footsteps since I was a teenager when I wrote my first story for the school paper. Cooking has always been a hobby, but I never considered it a career.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I turned my hobby into a career. My parents wanted me to be a veterinarian or a pharmacist. Boring.”

  “Your parents are probably a little more understanding than my mother. Anne Daniels is not known for her open-minded acceptance.”

  “Really? That surprises me considering how much she’s traveled covering stories around the world. I’m kind of a fan of your mom’s,” Zach admitted.

  “Acceptance of others, yes. Acceptance of me wavering off the path she’s laid out for me since birth, not so much.”

  “Parents always have high expectations of their children. It doesn’t mean they won’t still support your decision to do your own thing. I followed my own path and I’m still my parent’s favorite son,” Zach said.

  “Aren’t you the only son? You told me you had two sisters but didn’t mention brothers,” Quinn pointed out.

  “Well, there’s that, but even so, I think my parents are proud of me for making my own way. They worry about me, of course, but once they realized I planned to make a go of my career, they decided to make peace with it.”

  “I haven’t made a decision yet,” Quinn said. “It’s a huge step to completely rethink your career. Heck, my career in journalism started off with a fizzle. I think about all the money my parents spent on college and then I up and tell them, sorry mom and dad, I changed my mind. I’m going to cook for a living.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. You have to do what’s right for you. No one else can live your life for you, but you can’t live your life for anyone else either.”

  “That was mighty profound, neighbor.” Quinn tipped her cup towards him in homage.

  “Here’s to li
fe choices. Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.” Zach raised his coffee cup in a toast.

  “Here here!” Quinn clinked her cup against his and laughed. “Thanks for being a sounding board.”

  “You’re quite welcome. Any time you need to talk, you know where to find me. Bowled over in the stairway by my pretty upstairs neighbor.”

  Quinn blushed at the compliment. “We’d better get back and finish laundry. I’ve got to dig out something to wear to my date tonight.”

  Zach pushed back his chair and stood up. “Yeah. I’m supposed to go watch the game with my buddy. I have a feeling he’s going to invite Dawn, the girl his wife Cindy had me meet the other night for drinks.”

  “I forgot to ask you how it went. Was she nice?” Quinn followed Zach out of the café and they wandered towards home.

  “She’s nice,” Zach said hesitantly.

  “But?”

  “She was pretty. Actually, she was very pretty, but I don’t know. She didn’t have a lot of pizazz to her personality.”

  “Pizazz?”

  “It was like swimming in the shallow end of the pool. No depth.”

  “Ah. I can see how that might be a problem. A hot girl whose nice, but not a lot going on upstairs. Every guy I know would love to date her.”

  “I’m not most guys. I would like to be able to discuss something more than the color of her toenail polish over coffee the next morning.”

  Zach held the door to the brownstone open for Quinn. “I think it’s good you don’t just look at the outside package. I’m starting to learn that lesson myself.”

  “A girl that doesn’t just want a hot guy in a Speedo serving her margaritas on the beach? Be still my heart!” Zach joked.

  “Hardy har har. For your information, no girl wants a guy in a Speedo. That’s just wrong on so many levels.” Quinn made her way down the stairs to the laundry. She looked over her shoulder. “I prefer my men in a pair of faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Simple and classic.”

  “Good to know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “No. No. No. No.” Quinn threw one outfit after another onto her bed. “I don’t have anything to wear to the theater.”

  “You have a whole closet of new clothes that Sean gave you,” Indie pointed out. “Surely something in that monstrous pile will do.”

  “Nothing that says elegant, sophisticated, funny and smart,” Quinn complained. She slid hangers aside and dug into the back of her closet. “Aha! I’m wearing this.” She held out the black dress she’d worn on her disastrous date with Tad. The drycleaner had performed a small miracle and removed the eau de shrimp scent that had lingered.

  “I thought you were looking for a new you, not old Quinn.”

  “That doesn’t mean I gave up everything black. The little black dress is essential to every girl’s wardrobe. When in doubt, it goes from boardroom to Broadway with a spritz of cologne and a sassy scarf,” Quinn said in a perfect imitation of her mother’s voice.

  “Okay, Stepford Girlfriend,” Indie mocked and backed away with her hands held high. “I’m leaving on that note. Call me if you don’t get home too late. If you don’t make it home at all, call me with the juicy details tomorrow.”

  “That is not on my agenda for this evening. I’m looking for Mr. Right not Mr. Tonight Only, thank you very much.”

  “Gotcha. Well, I’m heading over to Marty’s. We’re going to write some code, watch a movie and stuff,” Indie said as she opened the door to leave. “Do me a favor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Relax and be yourself. I promise you that you’ll have a much better time if you do.” Indie slipped through the door and closed it behind her.

  “Be myself. Ha! Like I know who I am at this point in my life, Fat Panther,” Quinn said to the cat who had made his home on top of the pile of clothes on her bed. “I thought I was a journalist. Clearly not. I thought I had a hot guy who was romantic and sang beautiful songs to me while strumming his guitar. Partly right, but turns out he was a first-class toad, too. I don’t know who I am or what I want right now You know what Fat Panther? I’m just throwing caution to the wind and going for broke. Whatever happens tonight happens. If it is meant to be, it will.”

  Fat Panther sat gazing at her with his large green eyes. He twitched his white-tipped tail at her. “You don’t really care about this at all, do you?” Quinn sighed. “I’m wearing the dress and the heels. Maybe I’ll have better luck with them this time.”

  Quinn showered and dried her hair, fluffing it with her fingertips until it fell in chestnut waves around her shoulders. She had splurged on some high-end makeup when she first landed her job at Under the Radar. She lined her eyes with an olive shade which made her gray eyes stand out. A light glaze of berry lip stain completed her look. Gazing at her reflection, she was pleased to notice her arms were more defined from lifting the large bags of flour at work. No turkey wing arms for her in the near future. Quinn slipped on the dreaded Prada heels, but this time slipped some foldable shoes into her bag.

  She heard a light rap on her door, so she quickly checked her makeup and hair one last time and hurried to answer. Doug was outside with a single pink rose in his hand. Quinn invited him inside.

  “I brought this for you,” Doug said and handed her the rose. “Red seemed too bold. White said too Mommy. Pink seemed like a good choice. It says I think you’re pretty and I want to date you, but I’m nervous and don’t know what to say.”

  Quinn smiled and took the rose. She pulled a single stem vase out from one of her kitchen cabinets. “I think it’s a good choice. Thank you.”

  “So, this is your place.” Doug stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered around the living room. “I like it.”

  “I’m in the midst of redecorating. I haven’t settled on a color yet.”

  “Black and white go with everything, but then you get the whole zebra thing. I like that you have the cool blue lamp and stuff. I still have the post-college bachelor pad theme going. If my roommate had his way, the whole place would be decorated in camouflage and beer posters.”

  “I guess my decorating isn’t quite as bad as I thought then,” Quinn joked. “I’m ready if you are.”

  “Do you like Japanese food?”

  “I do.”

  “Great. I was a little nervous since it’s not for everyone, but I remembered we all did sushi after one of our study breaks in college and you recommended different things for everyone to try.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered,” Quinn said.

  “I have a confession to make,” Doug said. He held the door open for Quinn. They made their way down the stairs to the front door. “I had a bit of a crush on you back then.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me out?”

  “You were dating some guy on the lacrosse team who will probably end up being a senator or somebody important. I’m just an average guy from a small town in southern Virginia.”

  “Well, he ended up being a first-class jerk, so he lost my vote if he does run. I kind of like average guys from small towns.”

  Doug flashed her a huge grin. With a flourish of his hand, he waved to the small sedan in front of him. “Your chariot awaits, madam.”

  Doug drove them to Yoshimoto’s on Sandstone Avenue. Quinn was inwardly pleased when Doug took her suggestions on new dishes to try and he even recommended a white wine that he thought might go well with their choices.

  Quinn laughed at Doug’s stories of his middle school students’ antics and she regaled him with stories of her travels with Uncle Patrick.

  Later, as they drove to the Altria for the evening’s performance, Doug maneuvered through the city’s traffic while singing cheesy karaoke tunes from the nineties. Quinn laughed so hard she hiccupped.

  “Stop! You’re killing me,” Quinn giggled. “Oh my gosh. Remember the time Tyler Owens ended up passed out and naked in the middle of the field?”

  “Yes!” Doug said. “He didn’t show his face
for a week afterwards, poor guy. I’m glad it wasn’t me. We had some crazy times, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said. She sobered slightly. “Sometimes I wish I could go back and be that carefree. I don’t think I realized how hard it was going to be to figure out life and career and everything else after college. They should teach a class on that at the university. How to Survive After Graduation 101.”

  “Shoot,” Doug said. “Half of our class would have flunked out. I’m lucky. I realized I’d picked the wrong major and switched to education. Best decision I made.”

  “I thought I’d chosen the right career with journalism,” Quinn said with a touch of regret.

  “Hey now. No heavy thoughts on the first date. Rule number one of dating Doug. Date nights are for fun, not for deep thoughts,” Doug commanded. He pulled into the theater’s parking lot.

  “So you’re saying that you want shallow waters from your women,” Quinn joked.

  “I want my women to be puddles, not rivers,” Doug shot back. “I like ‘em purty without a lot of stuffin’ in them thar heads.”

  “Oh, Dougie, you’re so manly,” Quinn said in her best imitation of Betty Boop.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am. I aim to please,” Doug said in a cowboy drawl.

  “Maybe we should both be on stage tonight with the rest of the actors because that was a first class performance.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “I’m having fun,” Quinn said. They made their way quickly to their seats. The stage lights flashed to signal the show would begin soon.

  “I am, too,” Doug whispered. He reached over and grabbed her hand. Quinn glanced down, smiled and squeezed his hand.

  The lights lowered in the theater and the curtain rose. It was show time.

  Chapter seventeen

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  The Romance Report

  A blog dedicated to the pursuit of love and happiness.

  Sunday, September 22, 11:55 p.m.

  What a beautiful night dear readers! Who needs True Hearts? Not this girl! I had a great date with an old friend from college who I haven’t seen in a few years.