by Cindi Madsen
That pulled me out of my he-looks-and-smells-amazing daze. Sure you do, you big fat liar. “Funny, I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Oh, do you come here often?”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“It’s not a line,” he said. “Unless it worked, then I’ll go with it.”
“You know, I’ve got to get back to my friend. Thanks for the help with the shoe and everything.” I turned to walk away.
“Wait.”
I glanced back at him.
He leveled those dangerous blue eyes on me. “Could I take you to dinner sometime?”
I motioned around. “Like, here? In this lovely restaurant you own?”
“Wherever you want,” Jake said. “It doesn’t have to be here.”
“I’m going to have to pass. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve really got to get back.” Before he could say anything else, I turned and walked away from the best-looking guy that had ever hit on me.
It’s such a shame he’s a liar. Otherwise, I might’ve been tempted. And I haven’t been tempted in a long time.
Our food was at our table by the time I got back. Steph was even off the phone. “Where did you disappear to?” she asked.
I slid into my seat. “I was walking back from dropping a note off to Brent and my shoe got caught. This guy got it out for me.”
Steph grinned. “Did he slip it on for you, too?”
“No. I did that.” I picked up my fork, ready to devour my dinner. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“It’s just funny that the girl who is so anti-fairy tale had her shoe rescued by a guy. It’s very Cinderella.”
“The guy was definitely cute and charming. But he claimed he owned this place, making him a liar.”
“Maybe he wasn’t lying.”
“Steph, I’ve never seen him before and I eat here all the time. And I happen to know Brent, who actually owns the place. So, yeah, the very handsome guy’s a liar. And ever since Allen, I have a strict no-liars policy.”
“Liars are the worst,” Steph said.
I lifted my glass, ready to recommit myself to what I’d come here to celebrate. “To male sobriety.”
…
Being burned time and time again takes an emotional toll on a girl. I’d know. After my last failed relationship, I called Steph, like I always did, and she came over for calorie splurging, guy bashing, and binge drinking. Over pizza, Steph and I rehashed our worst relationships.
The next afternoon, I got the idea to lay out all my relationships, so I’d avoid making the same mistakes. Since fairy tales were partially responsible for my messy love life, I’d drawn parallels to my failed relationships.
The first of my case studies demonstrates why I never date liars—even charming ones.
Aladdin Case Study: Allen/Aladdin
My Age: 22
You know in Aladdin how he’s all charming and you’re rooting for him, even though he’s been lying to Jasmine the whole time? He comes in, says he’s a prince, and you think, okay, he had his reasons. He even tells her to “trust him.” Well, people do have their reasons for lying. It doesn’t make it okay, though.
Allen and I met at a cocktail bar. I was there with my coworkers, celebrating the end of a project. At the time, I’d had a few heartbreaks but was still optimistic about love. After all, this was the stage in my life when guys were supposed to be different—more mature.
Allen smiled at me from across the room. He was older, which made him more interesting to me. Feeling bold—thanks to the strong cocktails—I walked over and introduced myself. He and I chatted for hours. It was like everyone else in the room had disappeared.
“Twenty-two, huh?” he said after I’d told him my age. He studied me for a minute, then reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I wish I would’ve met you back when I was twenty-two.”
“Instead, you met me now. I don’t really think age makes much of a difference.” I dug into my purse and found a card for Metamorphosis Interior Designs, where I was doing my apprenticeship, and scribbled my number on the back. I wasn’t usually so forward, but I hadn’t met a guy I’d liked in a while. “Give me a call sometime.”
Three weeks went by before he called. After talking on the phone for an hour, he asked me out.
Enter the magic carpet. Or in Allen’s case, a red Dodge Viper. Showy, yes. Fast, yes. Impressive, very. It didn’t fly, but it came pretty damn close.
Allen opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside, taking in the smell of the leather seats as I studied the gauges. My stepbrothers had taught me enough about cars to be impressed.
“So,” I said as he got into the driver’s seat, “let me guess. You boost cars for a living.”
Allen grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “I’m an Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeon.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“It pays the bills.” Allen started the car and zoomed away from my apartment. “I was thinking we’d head up to Boulder. It gives me a chance to drive on the freeway, and there’re some nice places to eat there.”
“I’m game.” The fact he wanted to spend extra time with me seemed promising.
The night only got better from there.
Allen was thirty. He was different from all the other guys I’d dated in college. In fact, the whole relationship was quite the ride. Sometimes he couldn’t seem to get enough of me; sometimes he’d ignore me for a few weeks. After three months of trying to figure him out, I finally lost it.
“Look,” I said over dinner, my irritation now at a boiling point. “I know that no girl thinks of herself as clingy, but I’m really not. If you need some space, whatever. But I’m tired of the hot and cold. I never know when you’re going to be sweet or when you’ll decide that I don’t exist.”
Allen set down his fork and placed his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…I’m a little embarrassed about my current situation. I’m staying with some friends, trying to get my life together. That’s why I always suggest your place.” He sighed. “I know I probably should’ve brought it up sooner, but I went through a really messy divorce last year. No matter what I did, it was never good enough for my wife. The money, my job. I was never good enough.”
He shook his head, pressing his lips together, and his voice came out strained. “I like you, and I feel myself getting really attached, and then I worry I’m never going to be good enough. So I throw myself into work.” He squeezed my knee and flashed me a smile. “Then I start thinking about you and call again. We have a great time, and the cycle repeats. I wish I could just forget about my past and stay in the perfect moments with you.”
I was happy he felt close enough to open up to me. “I think you’re good enough. I think you’re amazing, actually. Instead of ignoring me, just tell me what’s going on.” I looked up, into his eyes. “Cool?”
His posture relaxed and he nodded. “Okay. It might take me some time to readjust, though. Please just be patient with me.”
I walked away from that dinner feeling confident. His confession explained a lot. After that, he’d send a text saying he was thinking of me but was hanging with the guys. Or he had training. Sometimes an emergency surgery came up.
It always started with, Wish I had more time, or Wish I could be with you right now, but…
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, Wow, she’s a moron. But I was young and naive, and I tended to believe people back then. I didn’t match the sob story with the fact that we always headed to a different town. At the time, I wasn’t even bothered by not knowing where he lived. I thought it was endearing how much he wanted to impress me.
One day, I decided to surprise him. To let him know how much I cared by showing up at his office. Because he often called me on his break, I knew he took lunch at twelve thirty. Most of the time I had client lunches, so I was especially excited to sneak in an extra hour with Allen.
His dental practice was in one of those older brick buildin
gs with lots of medical offices inside. I took the elevator to the third floor and pulled open the door that had a DR. ALLEN BOOTH plaque on it. The waiting room was empty except for chairs and magazines.
I walked up to the receptionist window. “Hi, could you tell Allen that Darby is here?”
The woman looked up from her computer. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I—”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re about to close for lunch.” She slid out a business card. “Give us a call to schedule something.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’m here to see if Allen wants to go to lunch.”
“Dr. Booth has lunch scheduled with his wife.”
“You mean his ex-wife?”
The woman frowned. “No, ma’am. I mean Mrs. Booth.”
My heart dropped. Surely she didn’t mean—
“Is that Alicia?” I recognized Allen’s voice. “Tell her I’ll be right out.”
“Actually, it’s Darby,” I yelled back, rage taking over as I realized what this meant. “And I think you’d better get out here now.”
A few seconds later, Allen walked into the waiting room. “What are you doing here?” he whispered. “I really wish you would’ve called first.”
I didn’t bother whispering back. “I thought I’d surprise you and take you to lunch. You know, since you’ve been so busy lately. But I was just informed that you’re having lunch with your wife. I was sure she meant ex-wife, but she made it sound like there was no ex in front of it.”
“Look, it’s complicated. We were about to get a divorce, but then…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “She’s pregnant. What am I supposed to do? Leave her anyway?”
I shoved him. “How about not keep calling me.” I stepped forward and shoved him again. “How about not telling me that you love me?”
“I do love you. Look, what I told you about her is true. She’s demanding. She makes me feel like I’m not good enough. Then I met you and you just lit up the room. You made me feel special.” He reached out for me. “Is it so wrong I tried to hold onto that?”
Instead of yelling all the insults I wanted to, I clenched my teeth, feeling like screaming and crying and not knowing which one to grab onto. I’d sworn that if this ever happened again—if a guy ever did me wrong again—I wouldn’t freeze up; I’d let the guy have a piece of my mind. But the giant lump in my throat made it impossible to say anything.
The door swung open and a raven-haired woman with a round, protruding belly walked in.
Allen’s eyes widened as he looked over at her, then back at me. “Please don’t say anything,” he whispered. “She’s already having a high-stress pregnancy, and they’re worried about her losing the baby.” He raised his voice, turning to his wife. “Honey, hi. Just give me a minute.”
He tried to tug me toward the back, but I was done being jerked around. I didn’t know if what he said about his wife’s pregnancy was true. She deserved to know her husband was a cheating dirtbag, but was I willing to risk her health? No. Besides, she’d probably just blame me anyway.
“He’s all yours,” I said as I bolted past her, out of the office.
For two days I called in sick to work. It wasn’t even a lie; I felt ill every time I thought of how I’d been with another woman’s husband.
Allen called off and on for a few weeks, leaving me sorry excuses and apologies in my voice mail I couldn’t believe. He told me how much he wished things were different. He said he still loved me.
See, in the end of Aladdin it was all okay because Aladdin came clean, admitted his feelings…and let’s face it, Jasmine was rich enough to take care of him, so it didn’t really matter. I think she should’ve held out for longer—maybe even ruled the kingdom without him—so girls out there wouldn’t think a little apology and flying off into the sunset repaired all. I mean, how did she know he wouldn’t lie again? He probably did.
But they never bother showing what happens after.
In real life, coming clean doesn’t always make a difference. Because some dirty laundry is too ruined to get clean again.
Time Wasted: Five months
Lessons Learned:
Don’t date someone obsessed with his car.
Insist on seeing his place.
Don’t buy sob stories.
Dentists are evil.
A person who lies about one thing won’t hesitate to lie about something big.
Never EVER date a liar!
Chapter Two
Nadine, my partner at work, insisted we go to lunch at Blue to get away from the office—our boss was on some kind of warpath today, and it was best to steer clear when she was looking for someone to blame. After what happened Saturday evening, I’d been planning on staying away for a while. Even though Jake didn’t own the place, he might actually work there, and I didn’t want to have an awkward run-in with him. Especially since I couldn’t stop thinking about his handsome face, his smile, and the way my heart jumped into my throat when he put his hand on my hip.
“Hey, Darby. Nadine,” Mindy said when we walked in. “Just you two today? Or do you have clients joining you?”
“Just us,” Nadine said.
Mindy ushered us to a table and left so we could look over the menu.
Nadine lifted her menu and studied it, even though we both knew she’d end up getting the grilled chicken salad. I lifted mine, too, simply for something to look at, when deep male voices caught my attention, and I glanced in their direction. Jake and Chad stood near the back, discussing something. I threw my menu up, not wanting Jake to see me.
Okay, so he does work here. He wasn’t wearing the normal waiter attire, either. Hmm, guess I’ll see what I can find out from Mindy.
“So, what do you think about Mrs. Crabtree’s remodel?” Nadine asked. “Are we going to go with the Pepto-pink color, or are we going to try to talk her out of it?”
I peeked around my menu—no sign of Jake—then lowered it. “I suggested a lighter pink that wouldn’t make me think of an upset stomach, but she insists she wants that particular pink.”
“It’s going to be the most god-awful bathroom.”
“I talked her out of painting all the walls—told her accent walls are all the rage these days. She seemed to buy it, so that’ll help tone it down. Then, next time we meet, I’m going to tell her that stripes are in. If we’re really lucky, we’ll end up with one pink-and-white-striped wall that we can work accent decorations into. It might be kind of cute, actually.”
“Hello, are you ladies…?” Jake trailed off when his gaze lit on me. “Darby. Hi.”
I was impressed he remembered my name. Most people could only remember it was unusual. Even without his hand on my hip, my body reacted to him, my pulse quickening and my stomach churning with a mixture of nerves and attraction. “Hi, Jake.”
He rubbed his fingers across his jaw—such a simple motion, but it drew my attention to his handsome features. He was the exact type of guy I used to lose my mind over. “I didn’t expect… Well, you did imply you came here a lot,” he said.
“And I wasn’t lying.” Yes, I needed to remember the lying part and ignore how hot the guy was. I gestured to Nadine. “This is Nadine. Nadine, Jake. Nadine and I work together. And we do end up eating here and bringing clients in a lot.”
“Hi,” Nadine said with a giant grin, adding in a healthy dose of eye batting. “So, what do you do?”
I crossed my arms and looked up at him. “Yeah, and before you answer, maybe I should mention that I know most everyone who works here. Including the guy who actually owns this place.”
Jake’s brow furrowed. “You mean me?”
“I mean Brent.”
“Right. Brent and I own the place.” Jake’s confused expression turned into one of amusement. “But you don’t believe me.”
I looked down at my menu, not wanting to have to call him a liar to his face. Sarah, one of the waitresses, walked up to our table, notepad and pen in her hand.
“Sarah,” Jake said. “Could you tell these ladies why I’m here?”
“By their table?” Sarah asked. She was a little on the ditzy side.
“At the restaurant. Why am I at the restaurant now, when I haven’t been for the past several months.”
“Jake was opening up another restaurant in Las Vegas, so he’s been there for a while, and just got back.” Sarah glanced at him. “Is that what you mean?”
“It’s exactly what I mean.”
Heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks. He wasn’t lying—he actually owned the place. My foot was inserted so far in my mouth, I couldn’t form words. I just stared up at him like an idiot.
He tapped the edge of the table. “Enjoy your meal. I’m sure Sarah will take good care of you. And feel free to let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
Nadine watched him walk away, then turned her attention back to me. “Holy hell, he’s hot. How do you know him?”
“I don’t,” I said. And after insulting him like that, I’m never going to.
…
As if my day hadn’t been bad enough already, I had a date tonight. Unless you’re in an actual relationship with someone, a Monday night date is basically a throwaway. It’s like, hey, if you suck, at least I didn’t waste a good day of the week on you; if you’re actually normal, we can always make a plan for the weekend.
Believe it or not, I’ve been accused of being pessimistic. Pardon the hell out of me for being what I’d call realistic, because my optimism had slowly been drained one horrible relationship at a time.
“Oh, they weren’t all bad,” Mom had said when she’d called to set me up on the blind date and I informed her why I didn’t want to go. While I’ve accepted the idea of never having a serious, full-blown relationship again, some people—especially my mom—don’t want me to give up on finding “the one” yet.
Apparently her friend had a son who’d recently moved to the city and “needed to be shown around.” Yeah, there’s Internet now. Most people in this country have a GPS device of some kind. They don’t need to be “shown around.” And if they’re too stupid to read a map or do a little exploring on their own, why would I want to be trapped anywhere with them?