Not Your Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  This could work. It would get Rachel off her back. Andi would have a rebound boyfriend to parade around—one that was clearly superior to Mark. Rachel would congratulate herself on salvaging the whole Mark situation, and when Andi and Luke ‘broke up,’ Rachel would have a clear conscious.

  “I’ll do it,” Andi said.

  “I knew I liked you.”

  “Are you like this with all your clients?”

  “Heck no.” Zoey morphed her expression into the obnoxiously sweet and placating look from the beginning of their meeting and spoke in a syrupy voice. “I’m here to help you on the journey to the rest of your happily ever after.” She grabbed her laptop and opened the lid. “Now, we’ve got to keep up appearances. Let’s get through this bizarre questionnaire that’s supposed to help you find love.”

  Ben left the school whistling. He’d spent another full day organizing his classroom, and it was finally finished. That gave him nearly a week to devote to lesson plans before school started. He couldn’t wait to change those up, now that he knew what equipment he had to work with for labs.

  He was in his car on the way home when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “Ben?”

  He inhaled deeply and signaled to get off at the next exit. He had a feeling this was a conversation he didn’t want to be driving for. “What’s wrong, Barbara?”

  “Whitney’s friend called today.”

  Ben swore and pulled into the parking lot of a department store. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s worried about Whitney. She won’t get out of bed, refuses to eat. She’s been … saying things.”

  Ben knew exactly what that meant. Whitney was suicidal. Again. His heart twisted in terror and he closed his eyes and tried to breathe. So many times he’d been scared to come home, scared of what he might find.

  Was it his fault for not answering her texts?

  “This is what happens when she’s off her meds,” he managed to croak out.

  “I know, I know. Russ and I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t even answer the phone. We finally called her friend and she took the phone in and put it on speaker. I could hear Whitney breathing but she never responded to anything we said.”

  Whitney needed to be hospitalized. Again. He was certain of it. Ben gripped his phone. He wanted to flip on the car engine, jump back on the interstate, and drive one hundred and ten miles an hour until he was in Las Vegas. Then he would find Whitney and physically drag her to a hospital if necessary. Anything to keep her safe.

  He closed his eyes, pushing back the tears fighting their way through. “I’m so sorry, Barb. I think this might be my fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Whitney’s texted me a few times, asking if we could talk. I never responded.”

  Her heard Barbara’s breathing on the other end of the line, rapid and panicked. “Will you call and talk to her now? I know you’ve made your decision, but I’m so scared.”

  Maybe he should call and talk to Whitney. She needed him. If he didn’t she might …

  Ben swallowed hard, trying to think clearly. If he called, she would reel him back in. And they would be happy, for a while. But in the end, he’d be right back where he was now. Because it might take six months, or a year, or even two, but she’d leave him again. He shut his eyes tight, gripping the phone. “You know I can’t do that,” he whispered.

  “Please.” Her voice choked on the word. “I’m so terrified.”

  So was he. But he knew he’d made the right decision for himself, and he had to stick to that. Whitney had left him, not the other way around. “I’m sorry.”

  Barb let out a sob. “You were so good to her. I wish things were different.”

  “Me too.”

  “We’re leaving for Vegas tomorrow to check up on her. I hope you change your mind and come with us. We’d cover all your expenses for the trip.”

  “Tell Whitney I’m sorry,” Ben said. “Maybe we can talk in a few months. But right now I can’t. Bye, Barbara.”

  He hung up the phone and clenched it in his hand. Then he pounded the steering wheel. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t Whitney admit she was sick and accept the help he’d spent four years trying to convince her to get?

  He’d talked until he was blue in the face, trying to convince her the pills were helping her, not hurting her. He’s taken every accusation and blame she’d hurled his direction without complaint. He’d saved her life more than once, taken financial responsibility for her when she couldn’t work, and done his very best to do right by their relationship. In return, he’d been handed a broken heart. Three times.

  Feelings raged inside him, and he longed to let them out. For four years he’d kept his emotions to himself. He’d handled everything alone. For once in his life he wanted to be the one to talk while someone else listened. He wanted to be understood.

  Ben looked up and saw one of his favorite burger joints across the street, its sign shining like a beacon of hope. He pulled up to the drive-through and ordered two cheeseburger combos. Then he drove back to his condo and headed straight for Andi’s. By the time the nerves hit, he’d already knocked on her door.

  What was he doing? Andi would think he was a freak. Or maybe he’d get lucky and she wasn’t home. What did he want to do, unload his Whitney problems on her?

  Yes. He needed someone to talk to. Someone to convince him he was doing the right thing and shouldn’t rush to Las Vegas. He couldn’t talk to Rachel—she would defend Whitney. He couldn’t talk to Adam—he’d hand Ben a beer and tell him to forget her. Andi was an objective third party.

  The door swung open, and Ben held his breath. Andi stood there in a tailored dress suit and heels, like she’d just gotten home.

  He could still turn back. Ask some lame question about the condo complex, then turn around and run.

  No. He was done making decisions out of fear.

  Ben held up the bag of fast food sheepishly. “I grabbed burgers on the way home. Thought you might be hungry.”

  Andi’s eyes lit up. She grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. “You’re an angel. I thought I was actually going to have to brave a grocery store tonight. That or eat expired ramen. I was trying to figure out which was the lesser of two evils.”

  Ben’s shoulders relaxed, and he followed Andi into her condo. He set the fast food bag on her dining room table, and she brought two tall glasses of water in from the kitchen.

  “Sorry, I only have water. Yet another reason I should probably go shopping.” Andi eased into the dining room chair and kicked off her heels. He opened the bag and slid a burger and container of fries across the table, along with a few packets of ketchup.

  “I’m glad you were home,” Ben said. “I was already knocking when it occurred to me you might still be at work.”

  “Luck’s on your side tonight. Or my side, rather. I’d only been home about a minute.”

  Ben swallowed, the discomfort flooding back. “I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans.”

  “Did you not hear me tell you about the expired ramen? You saved me from starvation.” She took a bite of the burger and closed her eyes in appreciation. Ben hid a smile. He’d always liked that about Andi. While the rest of the girls in high school pretended to never have an appetite, Andi had eaten at least as much as the guys. She’d never gone for sweets, either. It had always been meat.

  “Well, glad I could help.” Ben took a bite of his own burger. “How was work?”

  “Ugh.” Andi dipped a few fries in ketchup. “I’m dealing with a custody nightmare right now. Court didn’t go well, and my client’s furious. But what can I do? His ex has proof of cheating, and it states in their prenup he forfeits all custody rights if he’s unfaithful.”

  “They can actually put that in a prenup?”

  “Yes, and the judge upheld it. The parents ought to be ashamed of themselves. They’re trying to punish each
other, but it’s their children that suffer. People get mean in divorces.”

  Ben had the sudden urge to reach out and rest his hand on hers, but he settled for a sympathetic smile instead. They were both vulnerable. He’d do well to respect that. “Sounds like your job is rough.”

  Andi rolled her shoulders, as though shaking it off. “No job’s roses all the time. Tell me about your day. Did you finish unpacking?”

  Ben paused, surprised at the question. Whitney had stopped asking him about his day a long time ago. “Yes. I spent today at school.” So he told her about the equipment he’d discovered, and the ideas he had for incorporating it into lesson plans to help improve test scores. She listened intently and got excited when he did. His heart swelled at the normalcy of the moment.

  “This is nice,” Andi said. “Thanks for bringing dinner. I usually eat alone while going over case briefs.”

  “I’ve enjoyed it too. Sounds like work keeps you busy.”

  “That’s an understatement. I barely have time to breathe these days.”

  He heard the longing in her voice, the words she wasn’t saying. Ben forgot his own problems for a moment and focused on Andi. “Is that why you stopped dancing?”

  “Mostly.”

  “The Andi I knew wouldn’t let something as unimportant as time get in the way of something she loved.”

  Her mouth twitched. “You know me that well, do you?”

  The tips of his ears burned with heat and he looked away, taking a long sip of water. “I guess not. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”

  “I haven’t changed that much. You’re right—I could’ve made time for dancing if I’d tried. But it felt like a waste of time.”

  “To you, or to others?” He couldn’t imagine anyone watching Andi dance and thinking it a waste of time. She’d been magnificent on the dance floor, her movements so graceful they could only be described as art.

  “Ah, so you can read between the lines. I did love law school, and it was easy to block out dance and focus on that. But my parents had already decided what my future would be, and Mark never understood my obsession with dance.”

  “Is that why you decided to start dancing again now?”

  “Maybe I decided to dance again because my partner came back.”

  Heat sizzled between them, and for a moment, Ben forgot all about Whitney. He wanted to take her in his arms and dance right there in the kitchen. Anything to hold her close.

  Andi blinked and looked down, breaking the spell. “So, are you going to tell me how your day really went?”

  Ben froze, the conversation with Barbara flooding back. Now that he was actually here, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk. Old habits died hard, and he’d never discussed Whitney with anyone but her parents. “I already told you about school.”

  She shook her head and her butterscotch waves flipped around her shoulders. Ben grabbed his water and took a long swig.

  “I can tell something happened today. Something aside from school,” Andi said.

  “Like what?” He tried to look innocent but probably looked like an idiot. He’d forgotten how perceptive she could be.

  She scrunched up her nose, making the light spattering of freckles stand out. Adorable. It was the only word that adequately described her.

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “What are you, psychic?” Ben asked.

  “No, I’m a lawyer.” She gave him a knowing expression, and he had to laugh. But it quickly died as worry for Whitney flooded back.

  “I got a call from Whitney’s mom. Whitney’s not doing well, and Barbara wants me to go to Vegas and talk to her.”

  Andi leaned back in her chair, her expression turning guarded. “Are you going to?”

  He fiddled with his burger wrapper, avoiding her eyes. “I wanted to. I feel like this is partly my fault. I didn’t respond to her texts, and now she’s spiraling.”

  “You can’t take responsibility for that.”

  “I know that, logically.”

  “So, are you going to go?”

  Slowly he shook his head, meeting her eyes. “No.”

  “You still love her, don’t you?”

  He swiped a fry through the ketchup. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.” Andi rested her hand briefly on his, then pulled it back. “So, are you going to Rachel’s party tomorrow?”

  Ben blinked at the sudden change in topic. But he was grateful for it as well. Andi gave him a nod, as though acknowledging he didn’t want to talk about Whitney anymore. “She’d kill me if I didn’t,” Ben said. “Should be fun. Rachel throws a good party.”

  “Yeah, she does,” Andi said. “Want to drive over together?”

  He could think of a lot of things he wanted to do with Andi—things that made his face flush and nerves tingle. His crush was getting out of control, especially considering he still had confusing feelings for Whitney.

  But it would be silly to drive two cars to the same place. It made more sense for them to go the party together.

  “Sure. Your car or mine?”

  Ben knocked on Andi’s door at a quarter after six, just as they’d discussed. She had to admire his punctuality. Andi opened the door, and her stomach nearly fell through the floor. Ben looked gorgeous. He wore dark gray slacks and a red button-up shirt without the tie. His hair was gelled, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

  “Wow, don’t you clean up nice?” Andi held the door open and Ben stepped inside. “Are you ready to kick this year to the curb?”

  “Absolutely,” Ben said.

  “Me too. It’s been a bit of a downer for me.” She winked. “Next year’s going to be better, though.”

  Ben flushed. It only made him that much more adorable. “You look great,” Ben said. “I kinda miss the Christmas sweater though.”

  “I didn’t think Rachel would find that sweater as festive as you did. She has no sense of humor when it comes to her parties.” Andi brushed invisible lint off her dark red skirt. She’d dressed up too, in heels and a flirty dress that hit mid-calf. The red of her dress almost perfectly matched Ben’s shirt. When they showed up together, they’d almost look like a couple. Andi pushed the thought aside. “Give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go,” she said.

  “Take your time.”

  Andi walked into the bathroom and gave herself a spritz of her favorite apple-scented perfume. She fluffed her hair to make sure it was perfect, then swiped on some lip gloss. She returned to the living room to find Ben sitting on her couch, leafing through a magazine.

  He looked up, then quickly stood. “Oh. You really meant a minute.”

  Andi smirked, pulling her coat out of the closet and shrugging it on. “Yeah. What did you think I meant?”

  Ben’s ears turned red. They did that a lot when he was embarrassed. Andi loved it. “Whitney’s ‘just a minute’ meant ‘about an hour.’”

  Andi tried to not let his mention of Whitney bug her. “Well I’m not one of those girls. Are you ready?”

  Ben nodded and followed her out of the condo. “Are you sure it’s okay if we take your car?” he asked as they exited into the parking lot.

  “Of course,” Andi said. Ben’s car was at least twenty years old. She couldn’t believe it was still running. She was positive one day soon it’d simply stop working. Probably while he was driving down the interstate. She shuddered at the image.

  “You know, my car isn’t that bad,” he said, obviously misinterpreting her reaction.

  “I know. But I would rather not die on New Year’s Eve. It’s poetic and all, but it’d make the party tonight pretty gloomy for our friends and family.”

  “My car works fine.”

  Andi unlocked her car door and they both slid inside. “Sure it does.”

  Ben relaxed against the seat with a sigh. “I can’t argue that the seat warmers are awesome.”

  “They are,” Andi said. But at the same time, she sort of e
nvied Ben. Yes, she had the salary of a high-powered lawyer. But she didn’t have the glow of satisfaction Ben had after a day spent working on his new classroom.

  They pulled up to the house and Andi smiled. Cars already lined the street, and the Christmas lights glowed on the eaves one last time. Andi could just see the smoke rising into the air from the fire pit in the backyard.

  “We’re early and the place is already packed,” Ben said.

  “Rachel knows how to throw a party.”

  They got out of the car and walked to the front door. Moments after Ben rang the bell, the door swung open. Rachel stood there in black slacks and a shimmery green blouse, looking festive.

  “You’re here,” she said. She pulled them inside and gave them both a hug. Through the sliding glass doors, Andi could see the backyard was filled with laughing people. The sharp scent of cinnamon mixed with the smell of food. Andi breathed in deeply. Rachel had made California rolls and artichoke dip again, if her nose wasn’t mistaken.

  “Can we help with anything?” Andi asked as they followed Rachel to the kitchen.

  “Most of the food’s out. I was going to slice the California rolls and arrange them on a plate, and refill the meat trays. Adam’s outside tending to the Dutch ovens.”

  “Dutch ovens?” Ben asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Cobbler’s a New Year’s Eve tradition in Adam’s family.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Andi said. She took off her coat and set it on the back of one of the barstools, surveying the kitchen. “Go outside and tend to your guests. Ben and I will get the rest of the food out.” She gave Rachel a little push toward the door.

  “Are you sure?” Rachel asked.

  “Absolutely,” Andi said.

  “We don’t mind,” Ben cut in. “Go enjoy the party. No one plays hostess as well as you.”

  Rachel gave Andi a hug. “Thank you,” she said, then slipped outside.

  “You’re a good friend to Rach,” Ben said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ben motioned outside, to where Andi could see Rachel laughing as she spoke with someone near the fire pit. “Pushing her outside while we take care of the kitchen.”