“My car’s in the garage, too,” she said. “It’s only a few blocks to Burl’s from here. I’ll walk. I need the exercise, and it’ll be faster and easier than trying to find closer parking.”
She was clearly familiar with the area.
“Mind if I walk with you?” I said. “For safety’s sake. Lots of crazies on the streets these days.”
“You need my protection, big guy? You think my arm is weaponized and will scare off bad guys?” She raised an eyebrow and made a clamping motion with her robotic arm.
“You look lethal enough,” I said. “But you have it backwards. I have warrior training and experience in combat. I was meaning I would protect you.”
“I see.” She had a twinkle in her eye. “Hand-to-hand combat training? Or more like firing big-ass weapons?”
“Some of each,” I said, undaunted.
“I’m a soldier’s daughter,” she said. “I’ve had some training myself.” She studied me. “There’s a whole group going, isn’t there?”
“Safety in numbers,” I said. “Just looking out for you.”
“I can handle myself.”
We changed into our street clothes, or maybe “got dressed” is a better way of describing it, since we were in our robes and underwear, and headed out. Callie was right. A group of Flash people joined us on the walk. The women clumped together. I had no alone time with Callie. I finally managed to position myself next to her just as we walked into Burl’s.
The place was already packed, mostly with smartly dressed professional millennials. Burl’s was set up for hooking up. The décor was modern and done in tans and blues. The music was just loud enough. The bar was situated in the center of the room where a person could see and be seen by everyone. Chairs and sofas were in groupings around the bar. And the tables were placed to promote conversation and meeting people.
The crowd was a good mix of men and women. As we stepped in the door, I realized my mistake in bringing Callie here. Half the single guys in the room sensed fresh meat and were eyeing her and the other Flash women. Attractive guys. Successful-looking men. I put on my fierce back the fuck off look. I didn’t like the look of lust in their eyes.
What did I expect? Callie was a model. She stood out wherever she went. I was just a regular guy. She was out of my league, but I’d be damned if I let that stop me.
We found a couple of tables in the heat of the action large enough for our party of ten or so. We’d barely sat down when our cocktail waitress appeared with a drink and set it in front of Callie. It was one of those girly martinis.
“From the gentleman over there.” The waitress discreetly pointed.
The guy, of course, was slick and watching for Callie’s reaction.
Callie nodded and smiled thinly before ignoring him. She eyed the drink. “Why do the guys always send me these expensive martinis? I’d settle for a glass of wine. A beautiful, expensive glass might even impress me.” She took a sip. “Not bad.”
I was fuming. I was supposed to be the man who bought her a drink. “This is a regular occurrence for you?”
She shrugged. “I never have to buy myself a drink if I don’t want to.”
The woman at her other elbow caught Callie’s attention, and suddenly I was ignored by her and found myself entertaining the other women with my war stories. Loud enough for Callie to hear, I hoped, though she seemed engrossed in her conversation.
The Flash people were a fun crowd. I enjoyed hanging with them. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have enjoyed it more. But I was looking for my opportunity with Callie. They were impeding my progress.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the other Flash ladies started attracting their own share of male attention. Which had been part of my plan all along. They were young, pretty, and fashionable. What hetero guy could resist them?
The delay was mostly due to the daunting aspect of approaching a large group like ours. Men can be cowardly in that situation. Public embarrassment in a place like this can be fatal to the objective of hooking up. You want to be seen as desirable, not a reject. I did my best to give the other guys a shot, being a sort of wingman for them, while protecting Callie from any unwanted attention. Unwanted by me.
Eventually, one by one, the Flash women peeled off. The smaller the group at the table got, the faster other men appeared to hit on the ladies. The few Flash guys went off to hit on other women. Another few Flash people left early to head home to family and other obligations.
That left me to entertain Callie and look for an opportunity to buy her a drink. But as soon as she set one aside, another always seemed to magically appear, as if they were waiting in line. She barely took a sip of most of them. Man after man gave it his shot and ended up disappointed. How was a guy to get a drink in edgewise around here?
I had to fight being grumpy about it. But Callie took it in stride.
She was soon pointing out the small, personal dramas going on around us. “See those two guys at the bar? They’re trying to figure out how to hit on those two women.” She motioned subtly. “The women aren’t interested. And the guys aren’t interested in that woman who’s hanging on their elbow, clearly putting out signals and looking for a hookup. Think either of them will settle for her by the end of the evening?”
“Men can get desperate,” I said, catching the people-watching fever.
“Yeah, maybe. But you learn a lot by watching people. Human nature is pretty predictable overall. There are some desperate souls who will go home with anyone. But most people, in my observation, have some standards, at least early in the evening. The alcohol goggles haven’t kicked in yet. Or desperation. Someone better might come along. At this time of night, you have to keep your options open. Those two guys want someone in their league or above. What do you think? Are those women out of theirs?”
“Maybe,” I said, studying the women. “It depends on how suave the men are.”
“Not suave enough, or they’d have already swooped in and charmed the ladies.” She smiled at me. “Women like confident men, but they have to be charming. Wit and a sense of humor will get a guy a long way and overcome looks.”
She took a sip of her drink. “Whoops! Mr. Studly just entered the bar.” She glanced at a newcomer in the doorway. “Feel the tension. He’s been noticed. He’s taking the measure of the room, seeking his prey for the night.”
She watched the newcomer. “Oh, no! Gentlemen, you have waited too long. He wants those two ladies at the bar. One of them, anyway. And there he goes, putting the moves on and filling the empty seat next to them.”
She watched the women intently a moment, finally shaking her head. “He has them in the palm of his hand. Hard to tell which one he’s after. Maybe both. Could be he wants a ménage. They’ll leave with him. Care to bet on it?”
“No thanks. I never bet against the master.”
“It’s good to be out of the game,” Callie said. “So much more fun just to watch and make fun.”
Fifteen minutes later, the guy left with the two women, leaving the other two dudes to scowl after him. I was having such a good time with Callie that time flew.
I gave up on buying her a drink and insisted on ordering her some bar food. “You have to eat, right?” It was happy hour. Food was cheap. I would have asked her to dinner, but I got the impression she was having too much fun, and if I suggested leaving, she’d call it a night and head home.
She finally opened up some about her life. Her dad had been in the Army. He was killed in a helicopter crash when she was fourteen. In this situation, I knew what to say and do. She said her dad’s friends and fellow officers had been wonderful to her mom and her family. One of his friends had stepped in as a surrogate dad.
“He made a promise to Dad to look after us if anything ever happened to him,” she said. “I guess it was a reciprocal thing.”
Guilt was a bitch. It settled in the pit of my stomach. “That was good of him,” I said, suddenly grasping for conversation while I pus
hed aside my own treachery.
“Maybe,” she said. “But he wasn’t Dad. Sometimes…”
“Sometimes?”
“Sometimes he overstepped,” she said. “We were capable of taking care of ourselves. Dad taught us well. It was a nice sentiment, but the promise was too big and broad. He took it too seriously, but lacked the love that should have been behind the commitment.”
“And now?” I said. “Is he still a surrogate dad? If you were getting married, would you ask him to walk you down the aisle?”
“No! Definitely not.” She traced her finger through the condensation on her glass. “My uncle. My dad’s brother. I’d ask him. He helps us because he loves us. Better to be bound by love than a dramatic promise.”
“Love trumps all?” I asked.
“I think so.”
She gave me something to think about. Eventually, the buzz I was getting buried the guilt.
As the evening progressed, I put my moves on her. I moved closer to her. Put my arm around the back of her chair. Flirted. She flirted back, using any excuse to touch me and me the same. The vibes of interest coming off her were strong. All signs pointed to go.
When it seemed like enough time had passed and Callie would soon be ready to head out, I got my opportunity. She had a crumb on her lip. I brushed it gently away and cupped her face in my hand. I leaned in close and stared into her eyes, which were wide and dark. “You and I have more than professional chemistry. Let’s stop fighting it. This is the last night before you commit to Pair Us. I have a hotel room here in the city tonight. Let’s put it to good use.” I leaned in to kiss her.
She pulled back. “I’m disappointed in you, Knox.” She grabbed her purse. “I thought I made it clear—no more hookups for me. I’m already committed to Pair Us.” She pushed back her chair, stood, and walked out on me.
I stared, breathless and shocked, after her. I threw a fifty on the table and ran after her with the eyes of the crowd on me, just another douche being rejected. Another amusing drama playing out.
“Callie!”
She kept walking. For a woman who’d had so many free drinks thrown at her, she was amazingly fast. And determined.
“Callie.” I caught her on the street and got into step with her. “I’m sorry. I misread the signals. I’ll back off.” I didn’t understand women. I couldn’t understand why she was so furious at me. Shouldn’t hitting on her be a compliment?
We passed a homeless addict on the corner. “Hey, leave her alone, man. She doesn’t want to be with you.”
I ignored his unsolicited sidewalk advice. “At least let me walk you back to the parking garage.”
She glared at me.
I held my hands up. “No more idiot moves.”
She didn’t slow down.
“Look. Despite my slimy moves, it has to be safer walking with me than walking alone.”
She slowed slightly and looked at me. “I don’t know. That high guy back at the corner seemed to have a pretty decent grasp of how to treat a woman.”
“No more moves,” I said, helplessly under her spell. I’d do anything to get back in her good graces. “I promise.”
She stopped and stared at me with narrowed eyes.
I held out my hand. “Friends?”
She stared at me forever before taking it. “For now. At least until you see me safely to my car.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
The corners of her mouth twitched. “You really are a douche, Knox. But it’s hard to stay mad at you when you look like such a puppy dog.”
“Puppy dog?”
“Did I just insult your manhood?” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Maybe I should have said hangdog. Better?”
“Marginally.” I relaxed. She was clearly teasing. And flirting. I didn’t understand her. Or what I’d done wrong.
We walked the block back to her car in companionable silence. She was parked on the third floor. I insisted on walking her all the way to it.
When we came out of the stairwell on her floor, she pointed down the row. “That’s me. I think I can handle it from here.”
I took my cue, but I wasn’t leaving until I knew she was safe. “I’ll watch until you make it safely. In case there’s someone hiding in the back seat.”
“Now that makes me feel better and totally safe. Someone in the back seat of my car. I always lock my doors.” She rolled her eyes. Her sides shook. She was trying to hold a laugh in. “We gave them a show at the bar, didn’t we?”
I grinned. “Yeah. I guess we did. If anyone was taking bets on whether we’d leave together, do you give it to them? Or cry foul?”
“Give them the win? Definitely not. Leaving in anger, even at the same time, is not in the spirit of the bet.”
I looked at my feet and glanced at her with my head down. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, she stepped into me, took my head in her hands, and kissed me, gently but passionately. The force of it, and her tongue darting in to dance with mine, took me by surprise. I pulled her close and held her tight against me, returning her kiss.
When she finally pulled away, her lips were puffy from my kisses. She smiled at me. “Good night, Knox. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Before I could answer, she turned and started walking away.
“Callie! Wait!” I caught her elbow. “Let’s stay in touch, huh?” I waved my phone at her. “I don’t have your number.”
“No, I guess you don’t.” She shrugged my hand off. “If you want to get in touch with me, you’ll find a way.” She walked off.
I stood rooted in place, as good as my word. I watched her until she was safely in her car and pulling out of her parking spot.
What the hell was that? I had never in my life wanted a woman more. I had never needed more to call Ashley for advice, either.
13
Callie
Was I toying with Knox? He was the most infuriating man. I’d just snapped. I wanted him. But had he not heard me the myriad times I’d said I was done hooking up? That I wanted something more? That I had a commitment to Pair Us and this job was important to me? If he was only interested in hooking up…
I got riled up at the thought. I was so disappointed in him.
All of this was on my mind the next day as I arrived for my appointment with Ashley at her Pair Us office. Her assistant Lottie greeted me. She was warm and friendly, as always, as she showed me in to meet with Ashley.
Ashley, too, met me with a ready smile and put me at ease. “How did the Flash shoot go?” She offered me a seat in the seating corner of her large office. All the framed, smiling couples beamed at us. “I heard there was some excitement. I’m glad you’re all right. No ill aftereffects?”
“The shoot was great.” Every time I thought of Knox, I smiled despite my frustration with him. “I’m fine, thanks to Knox, one of the other models. I owe him my life.”
“Yes,” Ashley said, but there was something reserved in her manner. “You’ll have to forgive me. Usually I like to meet new clients out in the wild. But since this is also a private business relationship, I thought we’d do better to meet somewhere where there are no prying eyes and ears.”
I agreed with her. She offered me a beverage. I politely declined. I was nervous and excited. My stomach was full of butterflies.
“Let’s get started.” Her laptop sat on the coffee table in front of her. She grabbed it, opened it, and brought up my file. “I appreciate you getting your responses to me so promptly. I’ve looked over your file. You were very thorough. I think I have a good handle on the kind of man you’re looking for.” Her smile brightened. “I have good news—I have several close matches I’d like to set you up with in our client base.”
She explained the process to me. She’d tell me about the men and show me their profiles. If I liked what I saw and heard, she’d contact the men. If they were interested too, they’d get in touch and ask me out. Ashley was there as the intermediary at every step. After each date,
we’d meet for a date postmortem, where we’d go over the details of the date and how the man had either failed, met, or exceeded my expectations. We’d discuss feedback my dates had for me and that I had for my dates. From my feedback to her about what I liked or didn’t, she could refine her search. While I was out on any date, I could call her for advice. Or rescue. She was pretty much available twenty-four-seven.
I listened and reviewed the profiles thoroughly as she went over them with me. They were handsome. Successful. Their profiles were impressive. I had no objections to any of them. Two weeks ago, I would have been drooling over the thought of meeting classy guys who were looking to get into a committed relationship. The problem was Knox. I hated myself for that weakness. I wasn’t too fond of him, either, for putting me in this position. If I’d never met him…
Ashley picked up on my lack of enthusiasm. “What is it? Is something wrong? Did I misread your tastes? None of these men have to be the one right off the bat. And many of them improve on meeting. I’ve carefully screened them. There are no duds—”
“It’s not that,” I said. “Do you really think you can find me the best match that’s out there for me? Better than I could do myself?”
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. She was probably used to cold feet. “Best? Better than you could possibly do yourself? That’s hard to say. I can guarantee that I can find you a match you could be completely happy with the rest of your life if you chose to commit to the search. But it is a search. It may take time. I use a complicated method to determine points of compatibility between people. I give each couple a compatibility score based on percentage—eighty percent compatible, ninety percent, that kind of thing.
“I have a threshold that must be met before I even set a couple up. A threshold that, all things considered, including the unpredictability of physical chemistry, should lead to a happy union. I combine that empirical method with my experience and knowledge of people and personalities and my intuition, which is very strong. Nothing is left just to data.” She explained her method and philosophy of matchmaking in more detail.
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