Nobody Does It Better

by Blakely, Lauren

  I swivel around, briefly glancing down at my swingy teal-blue number with a cherry pattern. “Wine is never the problem, and you’re stunning. You’d look amazing in a cherry-pattern dress, and you absolutely have the figure for it. I’ll take you shopping to prove it.”

  “Wait! I want to go shopping with Vanessa,” Sara calls out.

  Miriam’s voice cuts through. “Evidently, you old birds are not above begging this sweet gal to take you shopping. It’s like I can’t take you out in public.”

  I laugh and leave the conversation with a wave, heading back behind the counter, where I busy myself checking in a few new bowlers. As I hand shoes to a family of four, I don’t check out Shaw. Yay me. I deserve bonus points tonight.

  A little later, Sara beckons me over to their lane with a wiggle of her fingers. “Vanessa, tell me something.” Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s bolder than usual.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you still single?”

  I shoot her a fierce stare for an answer, then I give her a verbal one. “Am I stealing whatever coconut cake you don’t finish tonight? Is wine the greatest beverage ever? Does fashion rule? Yes, yes, yes, I am single.”

  Miriam grabs her phone, tapping quickly on the screen, while Sara takes the reins, answering me with, “Good, because we have someone in mind.”

  “Who would that be?” I’m not opposed to being set up. I’m open to meeting the right man, whether he’s on an app, knows one of my friends, or is strolling down the street. And these book club ladies not only know men, but they’ve raised boys who’ve become men.

  Miriam jumps in. “My stepson. He’s a catch. You know him, I believe, since he grew up here. Jamie Sullivan.”

  My eyes widen. “Of course. Jamie Sullivan, as in two years older, captain of the football team, student athlete and valedictorian who went to Yale Law School?”

  Miriam beams proudly. “He’s the one.”

  My brow knits as I try to remember what I’d last heard about him. “But I thought he was involved?”

  Her smile morphs into a satisfied grin. “Not any longer, and thank the Lord. I never did care for her, and she never seemed to care for him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Miriam tuts. “It’s all for the best. I’m glad he figured it out before he proposed. But now he’s single and ready to mingle . . .”

  Her phone trills.

  Miriam’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Who could that be?”

  Sara chuckles as the phone rings again. “Mir, you don’t need to pretend. The jig is up.”

  Miriam grabs her mobile but keeps up the ruse. “Oh, look at that. He’s calling.” She answers her phone on a video call. “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Hi, Miriam.”

  “Jamie, it’s so funny that you called.”

  There’s a pause, and then he says in a smooth, masculine voice, “It’s funny? You texted me and asked me to call. You used all caps. ‘CALL ME IN EXACTLY FIVE MINUTES IF I SEND YOU A TEXT WITH A MONKEY FACE EMOJI.’”

  I snicker, and Miriam acts perplexed. “I don’t think I said that, but be that as it may—want to hear the most coincidental thing?”

  “Sure,” he says, as Miriam adjusts the screen, showing me . . . oh my.

  Jamie is even more handsome than I remember. He’s aged well, and his dark-blond hair curls at the ends. Warm amber eyes meet mine, and his square jaw could be the factory model for square jaws. Full lips complete the handsome-as-GQ look. No wonder my little sister, Ella, had a crush on him when she was in eighth grade and he was a senior. I wave at his face on the screen. “Hi, Jamie. How are you?”

  “Hey, Vanessa. How the hell are you? And, most important, has my stepmom enlisted you in some crazy scheme?”

  I shrug lightly. “I’m fabulous, thanks for asking. As for your stepmom, I guess you’ll have to ask her if she’s meddlesome,” I answer playfully.

  Miriam beams, tossing a glance at her comrades-in-setup. “Look, they get along so well already.”

  Sara laughs. “You’re forcing them to.”

  But she’s truly not, because Jamie and I chat for a few minutes, catching up on the goings-on in our little town of Lucky Falls. He says he’s practicing law in San Francisco, and I tell him I’m keeping busy here at the bowling alley.

  “Are you still an avid theater-goer?” he asks, and I can’t help but smile that he remembers a small detail about me from high school.

  “I get to San Francisco as often as I can to see shows. My sister and I saw Waitress a few months ago. It was fantastic.”

  “Good to hear. How’s Ella?”

  “Keeping the library busy as always,” I say, picturing my younger sister, the quintessential sexy and smart librarian.

  As a new group of customers heads into the alley, I tell him it was nice chatting, but I have to go.

  Once I’ve checked the newcomers in, Miriam strides over, a determined look in her gray eyes. “Look, I’m not going to pretend here.”

  I didn’t think she was pretending before. “Good. Be real,” I say with a smile.

  She eyes me up and down. “You’re lovely, fun, and pretty. Clever and kind too. So is Jamie. He’s whip smart, sweet as can be, and reliable as anything. He’s ready to settle down. You are too.”

  I’m taken aback by her bold assessment of my relationship readiness. “Why do you say that?”

  Miriam points to my dark-brown irises. “You have that look. You’re ready for the real deal. My son is the real deal.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, but I’m momentarily distracted because Shaw’s heading in my direction, and he’s wearing that grin.

  That damn grin that gets me every time.

  He slides up next to Miriam. “Hey, Miriam. How’s everything at the library? You still volunteering and reading to the school kids?”

  She flashes a smile. “Why, yes, I am.”

  “I bet they adore you. I know they loved you when you were teaching a few years back.”

  “And I loved teaching second grade up until the day I retired. The kids always got a kick out of it when the firemen visited the school.”

  “We’re doing that next week, as a matter of fact.” Then he nods at me. “Anyway, I’ll let you two ladies finish up. Just wanted to say hello.” He meets my gaze. “By the way, nice cherries.”

  My gaze drifts momentarily to the cherry pattern, and that fluttery hope springs up once more, wishing he’d say Nice cherries. Want to go out for cherry pie?

  I don’t even care for pie.

  But I’d say yes.

  Instead, he walks away.

  He’s always walking away.

  In eight years of running this joint, I’ve always hoped he’d walk back to me. But that’s never happened.

  That never will happen.

  And I suppose it’s truly for the best. I can’t keep feeling this way for Perri’s brother.

  Maybe tonight is a sign it’s time for me to move on from this best-kept secret.

  I return my focus to Miriam, who’s patiently waiting. Shaw’s well out of earshot.

  “That sounds great. Set me up with him,” I tell her.

  She punches the air, and I take a deep breath.

  Miriam is correct. But that’s another reason Shaw isn’t right for me—he’s a ladies’ man, and I’m ready for the real deal.

  * * *

  Some decisions require best friend approval, even retroactively.

  After I say goodbye to the last patron, a woman in a satin Pink Ladies jacket toting a matching bowling ball bag, I lock the door to Pin-Up Lanes.

  Now it’s just Arden, Perri, and me, since they arrived a few minutes ago, bearing wine. They’ve been my best friends since I moved to the United States from Colombia when I was six.

  “You know I love you, but I love you more when you arrive with a Syrah,” I say as I grab a corkscrew, glasses, and some forks.

  Arden winks. “We know you so well.”

 
We park ourselves at the book club ladies’ table, and I brandish the last slice of coconut cake they left for me. “Cake and wine time. Plus, it’s special cake.”

  Tucking a strand of blonde hair over her ear, Arden asks, “Is it spiked?”

  “Apparently, it makes everything taste better,” I tell her in a deliberately sultry voice.

  “Ooh la la.” Arden laughs.

  “I’ll just sit here enjoying my olives,” Perri says, presenting a small Tupperware container with her favorite salty green treats. She opens the bottle of wine and pours. “What are we toasting tonight? To spiked cake? Tasty, naughty things? Something else?”

  I raise a glass. “To generally being awesome?”

  She flashes a bright, big smile, her green eyes sparkling. “We are always awesome, so that is an excellent toast.”

  Arden clears her throat. “Hello? How about we drink to the two-week countdown?”

  I lift my glass higher and stare pointedly at Perri. “To you walking down the aisle in two more weeks.”

  Arden joins in. “Yes, I am ridiculously excited. Winter Wonderland wedding, here we come.”

  Perri smiles, something she does a lot when we talk about her wedding, the happy bitch. “Let’s hope the gods of snow dump at least three feet on Sugar Bowl,” she says, since she and Derek will spend their honeymoon days skiing down that mountain and their nights climbing, well, other mountains, I’m sure.

  We clink glasses and catch up on wedding details as we drink and devour the cake and olives. I’ve got the honeymoon lodging handled. Next week I’m going up to my grandparents’ cabin at Sugar Bowl to make sure it’s ready for the lovebirds. I assure them my granddad will meet me there to help me, and then I segue to the critical issue.

  I glance at each of them. “All right, kickass girls of Lucky Falls, what do you think about Jamie Sullivan?”

  Arden’s brown eyes spark with curiosity. “As in the former prom king?”

  I smile. “Jamie was quite a catch back in the day, wasn’t he? Seems he is now too. His stepmother wants to set me up with him. We actually had a video call for a few minutes earlier.”

  “He’s great,” Perri says, jumping in. “Derek and I had dinner with him a few weeks ago, and I should arrest myself for not even thinking about setting you up with him.” She holds out her wrists as if for cuffing.

  I chide her. “Well, really. My single-tude should be your foremost thought and not, you know, your pending wedding.”

  “But seriously, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” Perri says, shaking her head.

  “Why were you having dinner with Jamie Sullivan?” Arden asks.

  “Derek’s sister and her husband are good friends with him. He’s a great guy. Friendly and funny—”

  Perri stops.

  Just freezes mid-sentence.

  “What’s wrong?” I make a keep rolling motion to get her to fill in the missing details. “He’s friendly, funny, and frumpy?”

  Arden laughs. “That’s where your mind went?”

  “It was alliterative. As a book shop owner, I thought you’d appreciate that.”

  “How about he’s friendly, funny, and foxy? Maybe that’s a better one.”

  I hum then concede her point as Perri recovers the power of speech, blurting out, “He’s friendly, funny, and coming to my wedding! You guys can get together then!”

  I smile and take a drink.

  And I like that idea for a lot of reasons. There’s only one fly in the ointment. “But don’t you think I should make sure Ella doesn’t mind?”

  Arden blinks. “Why would your sister mind?”

  “She crushed on him back in eighth grade,” I explain, grabbing my phone to tap out a text to my little sister.

  Vanessa: Question: do you care if I go on a date with Jamie Sullivan?

  Arden’s brows knit together as I show her the text. “Isn’t there a statute of limitations on crushes and claiming them?”

  “I’m sure there is, but it’s still best to ask first, don’t you think?”

  “And I bet Ella will be fine with it,” Perri says. “C’mon, the three of us taught her everything she knows about boys.”

  Arden nods. “We done raised that girl right when it comes to appreciation of the male form.”

  A few seconds later, my phone buzzes with a reply, and since I lapse into my accent with Ella in person, I always seem to hear her texts that way too.

  Ella: He is HAWT.

  Ella: And smart.

  Ella: And, wait for it, NICE.

  Vanessa: So that’s a keep-my-mitts-off-him warning, then?

  Ella: Please. If someone is going to snag him, it might as well be a Marquez sister.

  Vanessa: Love that sharing spirit.

  Ella: You did teach me that sharing is caring. :)

  Vanessa: So Jamie is on- rather than off-limits?

  Ella: I’ll leave you with this. Gurrrrrl. Get on that, stat.

  I show the screen to my friends.

  “And now you have no reason not to go with him to my wedding,” Perri says.

  “I suppose I don’t.”

  Though, truth be told, the biggest factor right now is that going with Jamie will keep my mind off how sexy Perri’s brother will look in his groomsman tux.

  And that’s what I need more than anything.

  3

  Book Club Ladies Group Chat

  Miriam: I think that went swimmingly well! I’m rather proud of us. Especially moi. I was so smooth!

  CarolAnn: Yes. Like ice. It was almost as if they had absolutely no clue what you were up to.

  Sara: It was amazing how you made it seem sooo natural.

  Miriam: Gee, thanks for nothing. Personally, I think we pulled off making it look spontaneous and not like something we’d been planning for several months.

  CarolAnn: *arches skeptical brow* Only several months? I’d say you’ve had this on your mind for a few years. I’m just amazed that it took this long. And even with all that time to play, you still made it seem patently obvious.

  Sara: We’re going to need to send her back to acting school, CarolAnn.

  CarolAnn: Signing her up now . . .

  Miriam: Ha! You’ll all be coming to me soon, wanting me to set up your sons, daughters, nephews, nieces, cousins . . .

  CarolAnn: *sifts through list of young single people*

  Sara: *hopes Miriam is right*

  Miriam: All kidding aside, she seemed completely open to it. This is going to be good for everyone involved, don’t you think?

  CarolAnn: I do have to agree with you there. It feels like it was meant to be.

  Sara: And we’re going to make sure what’s meant to be actually comes to be.

  4

  Shaw

  Damn.

  I check out my reflection in the mirror at the tux shop, shaking my head in over-the-top admiration. “I’d say it’s amazing . . . but honestly, it shouldn’t be a surprise I look good in anything. Formal wear was made for me.”

  Derek adjusts the lapels on his tux as he scoffs. “Hey, Shaw. Have you been tested lately?”

  “For extreme levels of good-looking? Why, yes. I was off the charts.”

  “No, for your myopia, as in short-sightedness.”

  Gabe mimes banging a drum. “Boom.”

  “Oh, please. You’re all just jelly I’m still single.” I joke, since I know they’re nothing of the sort. These two cats are most happily taken.

  “Ha. As if I want to be out there hunting with the likes of you.” Gabe points at himself, his platinum band shining brightly under the fluorescent lights of the store. “Married, and happy as the happiest clam in the sea, thank you very much.”

  As a man should fucking well be when he’s spoken for. And since Gabe is my closest bud, and Derek’s become a damn good friend, I couldn’t be more thrilled one of them has successfully tied the knot and the other will in one more week.

  And yet, I also must razz them. “Then you’re green
with envy that I look this stunning. Damn, I should be the star of the firemen calendar.” I smack my forehead. “Oh wait, I am. And clearly no one has ever looked as good in turnouts or a tux as I do.”

  Gabe clears his throat. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”

  I lift a curious eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “That you paid the calendar organizer for your placement on the cover.”

  Derek’s eyes widen, and he chuckles under his breath. “Oh, I can’t wait to spread that rumor.”

  Gabe straightens his bow tie. “It’s no rumor. It’s the God’s honest truth.”

  “Like I said, jealousy is your color, Gabe,” I toss back. Then I angle my head to nod at Derek, who’s finishing up his final tux fitting, and drop the ribbing for a moment. “All kidding aside . . . looking good.”

  He nods at my reflection, gratitude in the set of his jaw. “Thanks, man.”

  And because I’m not a dick, even though I love to give these guys a hard time, I narrow my eyes at the three of us in the mirror. “I mean, hell. Just look at us in our tuxes. We could be the models for this shop.”

  From behind me, the faint chuckling of the shop owner carries across the small store.

  “Mr. Grayson,” I call, “I know you’re eager to slap our photo on the front window. Just admit it, and for you, we’ll even do it for free.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to scare anyone away,” the older man deadpans as he ambles over and straightens the shoulders on Gabe’s jacket.