The Undateable

by Sarah Title

  A few visitors turned out to be hundreds of people, PR reps from their advertisers, friends of friends, and what seemed like the entire under-thirty population of San Francisco.

  Bernie was going to hate it.

  The space looked great, although he did have to bribe a guy to take down the posters of the Disapproving Librarian that were next to the stage. He saw Pia running around looking for them, but short of throwing herself into the Dumpster and collecting all of the tiny pieces that the posters were now in, she wouldn’t find them. It had been surprisingly cathartic, ripping up those posters. When Pia interrogated him, he just played dumb. He was good at playing dumb. Turned out, he was dumb.

  How could he have agreed to this? He’d worked hard to keep Bernie out of the spotlight as much as possible in a story that was about her. For the readers, it wasn’t about her. It was about the fashion and the dates and the hope and commiserating with a fellow sister trying to make it, romantically speaking, in a man’s world.

  “I hate to admit it, but the kid did a good job.” Clea handed him a glass of champagne and clinked. “This is going to be huge.”

  “Huge,” Colin repeated.

  “You might have the grace to look a little worried, you know.”

  Colin shrugged. He wasn’t worried about his job anymore.

  “Have you seen Bernie yet?” Clea asked.

  “No, her friends are bringing her.”

  “Makeda tells me she’s going to knock your socks off. I saw the dress. Amazing. Who knew that underneath that frumpy little mouse was such a knockout?”

  Colin knew. And he knew that Bernie didn’t care about being a mouse or a knockout. She just cared about being Bernie.

  This whole thing was giving him indigestion.

  “Should I regret letting Pia emcee?” Clea asked, although Colin got the sense she wasn’t really talking to him. “I should be the emcee, right? I’m the editor.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said, but he was mostly worried about getting the last drops out of his glass of champagne.

  “She doesn’t have the panache that I have. She doesn’t have the experience. Maybe you should do it, Colin. This is your project.” She turned to look at him. “No, never mind. You look like you’re no fun tonight. Come on, Colin! This is it! The home stretch! Victory is within your grasp!”

  “Yeah,” Colin said with a smile that felt more like a grimace.

  “Forget it. She can’t emcee. She’ll mess it up. Here—” She shoved her undrunk glass of champagne in Colin’s hand and raced up to the stage. She really was fast in those heels. He downed her drink, then watched Clea and Pia briefly tussle over the mic under the stage lights.

  Clea won. As she welcomed the audience and called out the sponsors and PR people and minor celebrities by name, Colin looked for another waiter and another champagne.

  Instead, he found Pia, flushed and out of breath.

  “Colin!” Pia was whispering desperately in his ear. “Have you seen Bernie yet?”

  “I’m sure she’s here somewhere. Her friends brought her.” He pointed to Dave and Marcie, who were standing off to the side with Steph, champagne glasses in hand, whispering among themselves.

  “Ugh, what is Clea saying? I’ve gotta go up there. Send Bernie over when you see her.”

  They were perfect for each other, Colin thought as he watched Pia snag the mic from Clea, then call up the thirty eligible bachelors who’d dated their librarian. Well, twenty-nine eligible bachelors, plus the one with the girlfriend, who’d actually had the nerve to show up tonight. So did the guy whom Colin was pretty sure was gay, and the puppeteer, wearing another stupid hat, and a guy he didn’t recognize, whom Colin assumed was the one who’d stood Bernie up. Thirty men, of all shapes and sizes and varying degrees of interest in software development. Pia called out for Bernie, who did not respond. As Colin made his way over to Steph, who was standing with Dave and Marcie, he gave Pia credit for how she seamlessly stalled for time, making a joke about makeup, then introducing each of the guys.

  “Where’s Bernie?” he asked Marcie.

  “She said she was coming with you.”

  “No, Makeda said you were bringing her.”

  “Uh-oh,” Dave said.

  “No, she wouldn’t do that,” Steph said. “After all this work?”

  No, she wouldn’t, Colin agreed. She wouldn’t let him down like this. But he dropped his empty glass on the nearest clear surface anyway.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  BERNIE WAS COLD. And she wished she knew how to turn on the carousel, so at least the passing view of the city would distract her from her thoughts.

  She’d really, really screwed up.

  When the car service had pulled up in front of her house, her hands were sweating. It was normal to be nervous, she’d told herself. You’re going to have to talk to a bunch of people about dating. You’re going to be the focus of attention. You’re going to have to stand in heels for several hours. She took a deep breath and told herself that she could do it.

  But as soon as she got in the car, she realized she couldn’t. This wasn’t her, the dress and the small talk. She wasn’t the girl who could put on a happy face for strangers. Her face wouldn’t let her. She wore her thoughts on her face; she always had. No amount of makeup was going to change that.

  So she’d redirected the driver, and now here she was, cold and alone.

  And Colin. Colin, whom she didn’t even like and who was probably going to get fired after she ruined this for him. Colin would never forgive her.

  She shouldn’t have agreed to this if she didn’t want to do it, she scolded herself. She should have just said, no, I’m happy with my dull little life where I can wrap myself in self-righteousness and pretend I don’t need romance or intimacy to feel whole.

  She didn’t need those things. She just wanted them.

  She wanted them with Colin.

  And now she’d made a fool of him and lost him his job. Good thing she didn’t like him.

  She heard the door to the carousel building open and she tensed. She hoped it wasn’t the police. She couldn’t get arrested for sitting on a carousel, could she? Sure, she’d jimmied the lock open with one of her bobby pins, but that wasn’t trespassing, was it?

  She’d have to work on her get-out-of-jail speech. Sorry, Officer, but my face was turned into an unflattering meme and then I got swept up in a romantic fiction that was supposed to rehabilitate my self-image but it went too far and I’m wearing heels.

  Yeah, that would work.

  “How did I know you would be here?”

  It wasn’t a cop. It was Colin. The last person she wanted to see, ever again. So why did her heart do that stupid skipping thing?

  “Hi,” she said.

  “I went to your apartment first. Maddie said you looked gorgeous—she was right, by the way—and she figured I was taking you somewhere special. So I thought about the places that are special to you and . . .”

  He sat down next to her on the swan bench. She wished she had tried a little harder to mount one of the other animals, but she hadn’t wanted to rip the dress. She was pretty sure she was going to have to give it back, fabulous as it was. And now Colin was sitting next to her, close enough that she could smell him. She liked how he smelled, damn him.

  “This is the part where you tease me because I found you using my oversized ego. I decided our first kiss was important to you.”

  She huffed out a sad little laugh.

  “You’re going to be late for your party,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and then, because she was frustrated and confused, she started crying.

  “Hey, hey.” He pulled her close to him and she gave in because he was warm and she was cold, but she shouldn’t let him comfort her. She didn’t deserve it.

  “Don’t be nice to me just because I’m crying,” she told the lapel of his jacket.

  “You’re shivering.” He pulled off his jacket and draped it aroun
d her shoulders. “What, no joke about how you can keep yourself warm without the help of the patriarchy? Bernie, you’re losing your touch.”

  “Why don’t you hate me?” she asked miserably. But at least she was warm. Colin made her warm.

  “Well, I thought about it. Because on the surface, it looked like you were pissed about the party and just trying to screw with my career.”

  “I can see how it would look that way.”

  “Yes, but lately I’ve been overthinking things. I think it’s because I started hanging out with this woman whose mind is a truly tiring maze of cross-examination.”

  Bernie sniffled. She knew she was exhausting. She exhausted herself.

  “And so I realized that it wasn’t about me. Can you believe it?”

  She laughed, just a little.

  “I know you better than that, Bernie. I know you’re not vindictive or cruel. I knew if you ran away, there had to be a good reason.”

  “Is the fact that I’m a total chicken a good reason?”

  “It’s not a great reason.” He wiped a tear off her cheek.

  “I’m so, so sorry. I tried. I really did. I put on the dress and the shoes.”

  “Yes, I see.”

  “They hurt.”

  “I know.”

  “I was in the car and my feet were pinching and I thought about you and the story and the meme and I don’t know how everything got so out of control when a few days ago it was fine. Weird, but fine. And then this big party and . . . it just isn’t me, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “I should have just gone to the party. I could have faked my way through it.”

  “No, you couldn’t. Bernie, your face would have given everything away.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s just my face.”

  “I know. I love that face.”

  Bernie’s heart stopped. “What?”

  “It’s stupid, right? You’re my complete opposite. You have no social filter. You argue with everything that comes out of my mouth.”

  “No, I—Oh, maybe I do.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t show up tonight.”

  “You are?”

  He nodded. “I shouldn’t have let you do this.”

  “Let me?”

  “I was too chicken to tell you I didn’t want you to choose one of those other guys. That I wanted you to choose me.”

  “Oh.”

  “You make me very confused, you know.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “But here’s the thing,” he said, and he sat back and put an arm around her. “All of that stuff is true, the stuff that makes us so different.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And yet, you’re the only person I want to argue with. You’re the one I want to puzzle things out with, and have bad dates with. I thought I was doing you a favor, setting you up with all those guys to prove to you that you could do it. But I wasn’t. I was doing me a favor, because I got to spend more time with you.”

  “That’s . . . romantic?”

  “No, it’s stupid. I’m stupid. I should have just realized it sooner, but it made no sense, right? So how could I have known?”

  “Known what?”

  “That I love you.”

  “Oh.”

  Colin looked over to read Bernie’s face. It was . . . well, she didn’t know what her face was doing, she never really did. But she hoped it was conveying something like “that’s nuts and ridiculous and the best thing I’ve heard in a very, very long time.”

  Instead, she said, “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Huh.”

  “Right?”

  “Let me process that for a minute.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

  She looked out across the carousel animals at the lights of the city. Everything he said was true. They were a terrible match. They didn’t agree on a single thing. He was totally normal and hot, while she was . . . well, she was abnormal and hot. Maybe it was just a physical attraction. Maybe it was just that they were both hot and they both wanted to bone so badly that he was mixing up love and lust.

  But that other stuff he’d said, that was true, too. She loved picking fights with him. She loved that he pretended to be all mad about it, but that he still met every challenge she set down. She loved that he listened, and that he changed, and that he made her listen, too. She loved that he didn’t require her to change for him to love her, but she did anyway, just a little, just enough to let that love in. Because she’d been doing that this whole time, without even realizing it.

  “You’re very sneaky, you know.”

  “Says the woman who skipped out on a huge party in her honor.”

  “That wasn’t really a party for me. That was a party for the Disapproving Librarian-turned-Poster Child for Dating Misfits.”

  “That’s true. In my defense, the party wasn’t my idea. I tried to stop it.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you.”

  “I forgive you.”

  “So what am I so sneaky about?”

  She turned to him, and it was written all over his face. Uncertainty, fear, confusion. “Love,” she said.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said.

  “I know. But you did it.” She leaned forward and did what she’d been wanting to do since he’d rounded the corner and she realized he wasn’t a cop. Well, since before then, really. But it didn’t matter. He was here now, and she kissed him. “Thank you,” she said.

  “For letting you kiss me?”

  “Yes, and for being so brave. I screwed up your life, and you tell me that you love me.”

  “You didn’t screw up my life. Maybe just set my career back a little, but I didn’t really like that job anyway.”

  “What would Maria say?”

  “Hmm.” He thought about it, his face tilted up to the roof of the carousel. She tried not to be distracted by the movement of his neck. Really, he was way more attractive than was necessary. “I think Maria would say that there are more important things in life than being able to afford to eat, and that I should follow my heart.”

  “Sounds a little sappy for Maria.”

  “Maybe she’s getting sappy in her old age.”

  “I love you.” She said it fast, before she could talk herself out of it.

  Colin just smiled and took her face in his hands, and kissed the hell out of her.

  Dear Maria,

  I met this guy who is totally not my type, but I can’t stop thinking about him. What should I do?

  Confounded in Haight-Ashbury

  Dear Confounded,

  Cupid is a mean little cherub, but sometimes he knows us better than we know ourselves. If you’re into this guy, don’t worry about what you thought you wanted or what you imagined would be perfect for you. Just grab hold of what feels right and don’t let go.

  Kisses,

  Maria

  Epilogue

  WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

  ____________________

  By Clea Summers, Editor-in-Chief

  Two years ago, a self-proclaimed spinster librarian took the city by storm when she agreed to our little dating experiment. Though she stood us up for the grand finale (we still don’t forgive her for that, though the party was fabulous all the same), she still managed to capture the hearts of our readers.

  She couldn’t be reached for comment, but we do know that she is still working as a librarian. When we tried to track her down at work, we received a particularly nasty tongue-lashing from the director. Honestly, what kind of customer service is that!

  We did learn, however, that she now leaves her ugly shoes at the bedside of our former staff writer, Colin Rodriguez. Yes, it turns out that the story took a My Fair Lady twist, and the two were married at city hall just a few weeks ago. I guess she really took the par
ty right out of our once-notorious nightlife Lothario!

  As for her Henry Higgins, Colin left us behind at Glaze, which we all got over very quickly, especially since our staff writer, Pia Wallington, managed to continue his series on setting the self-described undateable women of San Francisco up on their own thirty dates. Maybe we’ll hear more from him in the future, but if he’s anything like his new wife, probably not.

  And Glaze has a baby! Well, sort of. Better than a baby: a book! Our fashion editor, Makeda Tiye, and our beauty editor, Jeanaeane Ng, collaborated on the gorgeously profound The Real Girl’s Beauty Bible, which, according to the New York Times, is essential reading for any woman with a body or a face. They’re in the midst of their book tour now, so be sure to check the calendar to see when they’ll be near you. You won’t want to miss it!

  If you can’t catch Makeda and Jeanaeane on one of their many live or TV appearances, you’ll definitely be seeing them . . . on the bestseller list! Yes, The Real Girl’s Beauty Bible was the only thing that could topple that grumpy, old Take a Letter, Maria from its fifty-three weeks on the self-help bestseller list—which is a little greedy, especially for a second collection of columns. I mean, the old bat didn’t even do a book tour!

  Read on for an excerpt from the next

  Librarians in Love novel,

  Falling for Trouble,

  coming soon!

  The riot grrrl and the bookworm—just the pair

  to get the whole town talking . . .

  Liam Byrd loves Halikarnassus, New York.

  He loves its friendliness, its nosiness,

  the vibrant library at the center of it all.

  And now that Joanna Green is home,

  the whole town sizzles.

  A rebel like her stirs up excitement, action, desire—

  at least in Liam.

  Joanna never thought she’d have to come back to her

  dull, tiny fishbowl of a hometown ever again.