A Twist of Date (Better Date than Never)

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A Twist of Date (Better Date than Never) Page 5

by Hatler, Susan


  He flinched. “You think that of me?”

  His gaze had always been warm in the past, but the look he gave me left me chilled to my core. My eyes burned, and I immediately wanted to take my words back.

  He stared at me, his eyes cold and empty. “Eileen, who you met at The Oasis, is someone I dated twice. I’m single and there’s no law against that. The girl at lunch today was my cousin. She’s up from L.A. touring the campus at UC Davis, and I’d planned to introduce you, but you and your friend busted out of the restaurant so fast I didn’t get the chance.”

  Feeling terrible, I bit my lip. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not? If it’s the truth.” He laughed bitterly. “What have I ever done to give you that impression of me? Do you think studying for my PhD puts me back in college dating mode or something?”

  “No, I—”

  “Just think that little of me, of my integrity.” With his jaw tight, he slid his hands in his pockets, and took a step backward. “Have a nice dinner with your parents.”

  “Matt . . .” My lower lip trembled as he hurried down the sidewalk, then disappeared around the corner. I leaned against the brick wall for support. He was gone. My eyes were hot, my throat went tight, and it felt like my heart had been ripped out.

  I’d been wrong about him being a player. My mistake had cost me a relationship with Matt. If he couldn’t forgive me, maybe even his friendship. A mistake I’d made with Erica’s help. As I marched to Betty, I whipped out my cell phone.

  Erica had some serious explaining to do.

  ****

  At eight-thirty, I screeched Betty into my parents’ driveway and slammed her into park in front of their three-car garage. I hit redial, and it went straight to Erica’s voicemail.

  “Me again.” I tried not to sound as angry as I felt. “Call me when you get this. I don’t care how late it is.”

  I’d thought about canceling on dinner, but with Kaitlin’s “big news,” my parents would freak if I didn’t show. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, wiped under my eyes, and evaluated that I looked as bad as I felt.

  Taking a deep breath, I slid out of the car, hoping to get dinner over with as fast as humanly possible. I didn’t know if I could put on a happy face even though it was expected of me.

  When I turned the knob on my parents’ front door, nothing happened. Locked. The muscles in my arms tightened and it was all I could do not to scream. Why did they lock the front door when they knew I was coming over?

  I rang the bell, vowing that the minute after Kaitlin spilled her news, I’d make excuses and beeline out of there. Checking my cell—no return call or text from Erica—I rang again, then finally heard the deadbolt unclick.

  As the front door opened, I used every ounce of strength I had to paste on a smile.

  Then the door opened, and my mouth flattened. Standing in my parents’ foyer was Paul DeWitt—the investment counselor who’d broken my heart a month and a half ago. As Erica had mentioned, I’d thought he was it.

  “Paul.” My voice squeaked, unable to conceal my shock. I’d never introduced him to Dad and Janet, so how did he know where they lived?

  He gave me a nervous look. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

  My ex-boyfriend was standing in my parents’ foyer and he was asking me what I was doing here? Had my parents sold the house and forgotten to tell me? This was absolutely, unconditionally, the night from Hades.

  I mentally snorted. Hades. That’s great. My memory would pick this moment to remember all things Greek. Where had my brain been during the whole play dough fiasco? Isn’t that just the icing on the Acropolis?

  “Hi!” Kaitlin appeared in the doorway, and laced her arm through Paul’s.

  “Hhh . . .” Gasping wasn’t a great response, but I swear a two-letter word had never been harder to say. “Hhh . . .”

  Her brows quirked a moment, then she smiled, tossing her silky red locks over her shoulder. “Glad you finally made it. I see you’ve met my darling boyfriend.”

  Paul’s face drained of color at the same time my stomach heaved.

  “This is your sister?” Paul gasped.

  Kaitlin nodded enthusiastically, then pulled me into a tight hug. “He didn’t tell you the news, did he?”

  “N-no.” I didn’t dare ask what news and didn’t want to know what news. I just turned around ready to hightail it out of there.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Kaitlin grabbed my arm and pulled me through the doorway. “I don’t care what you forgot in your car. We’ve been waiting for you forever and can’t wait another minute. I want to tell Mommy, Daddy and you at the same time. Come on.”

  After tripping inside—in addition to my voice, my feet weren’t working so well—Kaitlin released my arm, shut the door and clip-clopped on her heels toward the dining room with Paul in tow.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, I stood outside Totally Fit with my hand on the door, unable to pull it open even though it was five-thirty in the morning, and freaking cold outside.

  My mind reeled from last night’s events. Kaitlin was engaged to my ex. Kaitlin asked me to be her maid-of-honor—I swear she’d emphasized the word “maid” to rub it in that I was single. Didn’t she have a best friend or a hairdresser or anyone else to ask? Someone who hadn’t seen the groom-to-be naked?

  Even worse, I’d left eight messages for Erica, who still hadn’t called me back. With all this pent up tension, now I had to go in and face Matt. I’d never dreaded going to work in the years I’d worked here. But, today, took massive effort to pull the front door open, and walk into the warmth of the lobby.

  Matt sat in his usual spot, reading a thick book with a faded gray hardcover.

  My stomach lurched as if part of me hadn’t expected him to be here. As if one argument with Melanie Porter would be enough to get him to call in sick after a year working here and never missing a day. Oh, great. I was stalling.

  Striding to the front desk, I dropped my bag on the floor. “Good morning,”

  “Morning.” His voice was neutral, neither friendly nor angry, but he didn’t glance up from his book.

  Bad sign. I swallowed the lump in my throat, lifted my bag, then walked past the front counter.

  “What’s the word?” he said.

  I stopped, tears blurring my vision. “The word?”

  Matt snapped his book shut, and no longer looked disinterested. He looked hurt. “After a year giving me the word, you think you’re going to pass by without choosing it?”

  I bit my lip. “You’re speaking to me.”

  “Apparently so.” His tone was lighter this time. Not quite friendly, but it seemed like he was trying.

  My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “Matt, I’m—”

  “The word, Mel.” He seemed uncomfortable, and shook his head. “It’s just a word.”

  I took a deep breath, knowing what I needed to say. “Matt, I’m sorry.”

  He stared blankly. “That’s three words. We only need one.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

  “Forgiven?” Matt leaned forward, tapping his finger on the countertop. “That’s one word, I suppose, but not very imaginative.”

  “Thank you, Matt. You don’t know how much I—” I leaned on the counter, and my hand accidentally brushed his.

  He froze, for a moment, then pulled away from me. “Those are a lot of words. I’m beginning to think you’ve forgotten how the game goes.”

  It stung that he’d cringed at my touch, but I deserved it. At least he was talking to me. “You pick the word.”

  “Hmmm.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not how it works.”

  I shrugged. “Seems like a lot of things are changing around here.”

  He avoided my gaze, and didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything, either. The long drawn out silence was starting to get to me when the front door burst o
pen.

  “Morning, all!” Steve strode in wearing his red polo and white shorts. “What’s the word?”

  Matt and I exchanged a look, neither of us answering.

  My mouth twisted to the side. How had I never noticed how stubborn he could be?

  Steve leaned against the counter next to me. “The word, people. Clue me in already.”

  Remembering what Matt had said when I’d told him to choose the word, I turned to Steve. “The word of the day is hmmm.”

  “Really?” Steve scratched his head. “Is that a word? Seems like more of a sound to me. Hmmm.”

  I gestured toward Matt with my thumb, just like he usually did with me. “He picked it. Blame him, not me.”

  The corners of Matt’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t have a comeback.

  My eyes widened in faux shock. “Finally, I’ve stumped the unstumpable.” I smiled. “Hmmm. I think I like that.”

  Steve looked from Matt to me. “Why do I always feel like I’m missing something when it comes to you two?”

  “Hmmm,” Matt said. “Don’t know, Steve. Were you often left out as a child?”

  “Actually . . . ” he began.

  Ding! Ding!

  The front door burst open behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. If it was Erica, I might lose it, and I didn’t want to explode in front of Matt and Steve.

  “Good morning,” a familiar male voice said. “Is the gym open yet?”

  Definitely not Erica.

  It was Brad.

  Every nerve in my body went on red alert. He came up behind me, but I didn’t turn around.

  Instead of greeting Brad, the way a front clerk was supposed to, Matt just stared at him, his forehead crinkling. Truth be told, he seemed kinda angry.

  “It’s a few minutes early, but sure.” Steve picked up his gym bag, then strode around the desk. “Come on back.”

  “All right.” Brad followed Steve’s trail, but turned over his shoulder, “Morning, Mel.”

  “Morning,” I said, but didn’t bother to look at him. I raised my brows at Matt, hoping to get that hard look off his normally sweet face. “Hmmm.”

  “That guy bugs,” he said, before picking up the book he’d been reading earlier.

  A warm feeling flushed through me at Matt’s protectiveness.

  Ding! Ding!

  The front door pushed open again, and Erica sashayed in. “Hi, guys. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going, Conner,” Matt said. The muscles on his forehead still tight.

  “All righty roo.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop, turned to me, and bopped the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to call you back last night. Mario ended up coming over, and well, you know.”

  I did know. I was beginning to finally know Erica pretty well, actually. “Can I speak to you in the back, please?”

  Matt raised his brows as I stormed past him, and pushed through the double doors that led to the back.

  I’d avoided my mom since she left me.

  I’d avoided seeing my relationships for what they really were.

  Well, I was done avoiding anything.

  ****

  I only had ten minutes before my aerobics class, and it’s not like I had my own office. So, I led Erica into the janitor’s closet and closed the door behind us.

  “What’s up, girl?” Erica may have been flighty, but she wasn’t stupid. “You’re mad that I didn’t call you back.”

  “You think?” I threw her an irritated look. “When I leave eight messages telling you to call as soon as you get this, that’s a good indication it’s pretty important.”

  “So was my date with Mario.” She wiggled her brows, but when I didn’t smile back, she let out a big sigh. “All right, what gives?”

  “Matt Thompson is not a player.” My voice cracked, so I started pacing. “You told me he was.”

  To Erica’s credit, she didn’t deny it. “You sound mad.”

  “Of course, I’m mad.” I strode across the tiny closet in three steps, then stopped, and threw my hands wide. “You lied to me.”

  She held her palm up. “First of all, I didn’t lie.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I gave her a skeptical look.

  “Okay, I lied.” Her tone softened. “But, it’s not like it was about something important between you and me. Like if I’d said you don’t look fat in that outfit and you did, that would be a real lie. Saying some guy I dated is a player . . .” She waved a hand in the air as if she were trying to find the right words.

  I pointed a finger at her. “But he’s not.”

  “Well, of course he’s not. He’s Matt. The guys is the definition of perfect.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you want me to say?” Her pitch rose an octave. “That after two dates, he still wouldn’t make a move? That he wasn’t interested in me that way, and that he said he just wanted to be friends?”

  I stared at her blankly, shocked to finally hear what really went down between them. “Yes, if that’s what actually happened?”

  “But, it’s pathetic.” She said it as if I were stupid. “I’d waxed poetic about how great he was, but he didn’t return my feelings. It was humiliating. Did you expect me to write it on a billboard?”

  I gasped. “How can you stand here and try to justify lying to me?”

  She clasped her hands together in prayer position. “I can’t believe you’re bent out of shape over something that had nothing to do with you.”

  The door to the janitor’s closet burst open, and hot Nick walked in. Only his hotness seemed to have dimmed slightly. All I could think about was Matt and the way he’d avoided my touch earlier.

  “Ladies, every word you’re saying is coming through to my office.” Nick glanced around, his eyes coming to rest on the dusty vent that had apparently been relaying our conversation. He checked his watch. “It’s five after six.” He looked at Erica. “Don’t you have a yoga class to lead?”

  “We were just . . . finishing up.” Erica gave me a dirty look as if this had been my fault, then she scampered out of the closet.

  “And you, Melanie?” Nick’s voice sounded firm, strong, and in charge.

  If I weren’t so upset, I’m sure I would’ve found it appealing. “Sorry. I’m going.”

  My six o’clock class was usually packed with people getting their cardio in before work. I’d never been more than a minute late to class. How embarrassing.

  I moved past Nick without glancing up.

  “Everything okay?” he said, coming out behind me.

  “Perfect.” Perfectly awful, I meant.

  “Good.” He lifted a hand to adjust his tie. “Are you, by any chance, available for lunch today?”

  “Lunch?” I blinked, stunned. I hadn’t even flirted with him yet. I didn’t feel the spark of excitement I’d expected to feel if he asked me out, but a lunch date might be just the thing to cheer me up. Then, I remembered Betty and bit my lip. Boyfriend Bylaw number two. I had to get permission to accept a date. But, I didn’t have time to call Patti since I was already late for class. Not to mention Nick was giving me a weird look.

  Nick seemed great, but Betty was my shiny blue security blanket. I’d already lost Matt. I couldn’t lose her, too.

  “Melanie?” His voice was tinged with confusion. “I know it’s last minute. If you’re not free . . .”

  “Right. I mean, no. Lunch. Hmmm.” My stress level rose, and I could actually hear a clock ticking. Why didn’t Patti give me pre-permission like I’d asked? I felt lame for not answering, but how could I explain that I needed my roomie’s approval to date him?

  Then something occurred to me. Patti managed my love life, not my work life. Maybe Nick was asking me out for business reasons. I mean, who was I to assume it was personal.

  I smiled, proud to find a new loophole. “I accept. A working lunch sounds great.”

  He smirked, causing his adorable dimple to pop out. �
�Noon?”

  “A nooner’s perfect.” My eyes widened at my unfortunate choice of words, and my face flamed. “Um, I mean, sure, noon works.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, then pivoted, striding toward his new office.

  I hauled booty in the opposite direction, unzipping my pink hooded sweatshirt as I ran and feeling guilty as if I were cheating on Matt.

  ****

  Kristen and I were stretching and chatting after class, like we normally did. Her work was going well, her boyfriend Ethan sounded amazing, and I waited for her to ask the inevitable question.

  Lying back on the mat, she stared up at me. “How are things going with Brad?”

  “They’re not.” I flopped down onto my stomach. “He totally ditched out when I brought up the C word.”

  She sat up, widening her eyes. “Coffee?”

  I laughed. “Yes, exactly. Turns out Brad prefers to have his cappuccinos in various cafes as opposed to the same place each time.”

  “Some men like variety when it comes to espresso drinks.” She rolled over on her belly, and propped her chin on first. “You don’t seem upset.”

  “Turns out drinking my frappuccinos without him didn’t phase me. Isn’t that interesting?”

  She nodded. “Figuring out coffee preferences can be complicated sometimes. For example, some women avoid the espresso drink they really crave, in fear of the flavor disappointing them.”

  I tilted my head, my ponytail flopping over my shoulder. “Okay, you lost me.”

  She laced her fingers under her chin. “You wouldn’t ask your friend if he’d commit, but you had no problem asking Brad. I find that interesting. Don’t you?”

  One thing I liked about Kristen, she always nailed things dead on, and wasn’t afraid to say it. “Matt told me he doesn’t play around.”

  “Really.” Kristen’s tone didn’t sound surprised at all. “And you’re not dating Brad anymore. So?”

  I shook my head. “I’m going to lunch today with a new guy. Nick.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Why?”

  “He seems nice.” I popped to my feet. “I’d better head to the locker room and get cleaned up.”

 

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