by Denise Wells
I came to San Soloman a little less than a year ago as a favor to the mayor, an old family friend, and then just stayed. It’s actually a great place to live. I’ve got an apartment a block from the beach, I can run on the sand in the morning with my dog, Hudson, and anything else I need is within walking distance mere blocks away.
“What’s on the docket today, boss-man?” Kat asks as she breezes in.
“I do like it when you address me appropriately and with reverence,” I say with a grin.
“Pfft, in your dreams.” She rolls her eyes.
“You have no idea what you do in my dreams, Cookie.” I wink back at her.
She blushes slightly. “Uh, down boy, I’m engaged now. All-a-dis is spoken for.” She gestures to her body as she says it, and I have to laugh.
My phone rings, and it’s my buddy Alex.
“One sec,” I say to Kat.
“Hey, dude,” I say into the phone.
“Chance, you ready to lose our bet?”
“No way in hell that’s gonna happen, brother.”
“How’s Saturday work for you?”
“This Saturday? That works.”
“Cool, I’ll let you know as soon as we decide on a place and time.”
“Sounds good. Oh, and get your checkbook ready, cause if I...”
I look over at Kat to see if she’s paying attention, but I can’t tell. I tone down what I was going to say just in case. “If I tag it and bag it, man, you are payin’ up.”
“Nobody uses a checkbook anymore, bro.” Alex laughs.
“I use a checkbook.”
“You might be the only person.”
“How else do you write a check if you don’t use a checkbook?”
“Bank check.”
“Okay, cash then.”
“Why don’t we just wait and see if she’s even willing to go out with you again after Saturday.”
“She’ll want to.”
“We’ll see.”
“See you Saturday, man,” I say back at a normal volume and hang up.
“What’s happening Saturday?” Kat asks.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a date.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen. “With who?”
“I refer back to my earlier comment about what is and what is not your business.”
“Come on, Bauer. We’re friends. Friends talk. Tell me!”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do! Come on. You can tell me,” she says.
“No,” I say. “I mean I don’t know who I’m going on the date with.”
“How do you not know?” she asks.
“I know you’ve been out of the dating pool for a while, Cookie. But traditionally when one has a date with someone they don’t know, it’s called a blind date.”
“Oh!” she gasps. “You have a blind date on Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“A blind date?” she asks, repeating herself.
“Uh, we’ve covered this,” I say.
She gets this weird look on her face. One that’s like a combination of wonderment and cunning.
“Why do you look like that?”
“Who’s setting you up?” she asks back.
“My buddy, Alex.”
She bursts out laughing. Like laughing so hard she’s doubled over and snorting like a pig.
I start laughing just because she’s laughing. But I truly don’t know why we’re laughing.
She finally calms down, but she’s laughed so hard that tears are streaming down her face, her eye makeup smudging on her cheeks. I’ll never understand why girls wear all that shit on their face.
“Uh, you got a, uh...” I gesture toward her face, point to my eyes, and then back to her face. She swipes under her eyes with her finger and looks at the black that has streaked along the side.
“Oh my God, that’s just amazingly delicious,” she says. “Oh my God.”
“What?” I ask.
“I’ll be right back,” she says. “I need to use the restroom and text Lexie.”
“Okay.”
She’s much more composed when she returns.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, I get it, I have to tell you mine, but you don’t have to tell me yours?” I ask.
“You wouldn’t understand, Bauer,” she says. “It just made me think of something, and the something that it made me think of was funny.”
She’s right, I don’t get it.
“Chicks,” I mutter under my breath, but still loud enough for her to hear.
“I know.” She shrugs her shoulders. “What are you gonna do?”
“Well, I’m not going to have one in my life, I can tell you that.”
“I guess we’ll see about that,” she says laughing once more.
“Are we going to lunch or not? I’m hungry,” I grumble.
“Yes, let’s go.”
We head out to the parking lot where the lunch truck typically parks. And it’s not until we are halfway to the lunch spot that I realize I didn’t even check out her ass as I was walking behind her.
Chapter 10
Remi
Saturday comes way too soon. I work for a little bit in the morning but am home by early afternoon. Lexie texts me to ask what I’m going to wear.
Me: I’m not sure yet. I’m not too worried about it though.
Lexie: Why not?
Me: I have hours to decide. And if Alex’s friend is anything like him, I’ll have no problem getting him to date me.
Lexie: You realize this is not just about the bet, right? Like this is to help you try and realize that dating someone is an okay thing to do.
Me: Says you.
Lexie: Says most of the world.
Me: I can’t help that most of the world are idiots.
Lexie: You’re impossible.
Me: Thank you.
Lexie: Well, I think it’s great that you are going and I think you’ll be surprised. In a good way.
Me: Uh, huh.
Lexie: Okay, well text a pic when you decide on an outfit. Have fun!
Me: Will do.
I hate Kat for making me do this. I text her to tell her so. She texts me back, quickly.
Kat: Look, you can either go into this with an open mind and have a good time or remain determined that it sucks and is a waste of time.
Kat: Your choice as to how you want your night to be. And your attitude is going to make or break your night. So decide if you want to be the amazing woman that I know you are and have a good time. Or do you want to stick with this whole ‘I hate people and relationships’ bullshit and make everyone suffer?
Me: I hate it when you get all emo-chick on me. You used to agree with me about this shit.
Kat: I can’t help it now. I’m ridiculously happy with Brad and I want everyone else to be happy too. I think relationships are awesome. And you don’t hate it when I get ‘emo-chick,’ you hate it when I’m right.
She’s right, I hate that too.
Me: Fine.
Kat: That’s my girl.
Kat: What are you going to wear?
Me: I don’t know.
Kat: I recommend something sinfully sexy that makes you feel good.
Me: That I can do.
Kat: Text me pics.
Me: Will do.
I decide on a black tea length dress with a sweetheart neckline, quarter length sleeves, and a cinch waist. Then accessorize with a large red flower in my hair, Celtic cross on a velvet chain around my neck, and black platform pumps with matching red flowers on the toe. Bright red lips and cat-lined eyes complete the look. I snap a selfie in my full-length mirror and send it to Lexie and Kat. Both respond with compliments, which makes me happy.
I do feel good in this outfit, and I am determined to make it a great night. If for no other reason, then to save my Louboutins. But also for Kat. It seems like it’s important to her that I be ‘happy’ in a
‘relationship.’ And I would do pretty much anything for Kat that she wants. I love that girl more than anything else. I mean, I won’t get into a relationship for her, but I will go through the motions and pretend to if it puts a smile on her face.
I’d told Harley that I would help her with her hair and makeup, and that I’d drive her to dinner so we could arrive together. Alex picked a place called The Chesterfield, which is technically a supper club. It’s a throwback to the supper clubs from the 1930s and 1940s with a live jazz orchestra. Tables for two and four surround the dance floor and are lit primarily by candles. I’ve been there before and loved it, but I’m not sure if that’s why Alex picked it or not.
I get to Harley’s house in plenty of time to help her get ready. She’s a super cute redhead with a long, lithe body honed by years of Yoga. But, she’s also a bit of a computer geek, like Alex. And she loves online gaming, specifically X-box Live, like Alex. I know that they’re totally going to hit it off. Plus, I think they will look good together physically. I mean, Alex is a good-looking guy. He’s tall, built, a good dresser. Just not the guy for me.
We outfit her in a fitted black maxi dress with spaghetti straps and a long slit up one side. Which by itself appears casual, but I’d brought an assortment of shoes and accessories with me. So, we fancy it up with some strappy heels, metallic belt, and a sheer wrap. Then style her hair in a partial up-do with loose waves cascading down her back. Her makeup is light and natural; she looks like a bohemian goddess.
“He’s going to love you,” I tell her with a sincere smile.
She blushes prettily. It’s interesting because in yoga class, she’s a ball buster. But outside of class, she’s shy and a little timid. I’m hoping that side of her personality will appeal most to Alex. Of course, in comparison to me, most women appear shy and timid.
“You don’t know who you’re getting set up with either?” Harley asks me.
“Not a clue,” I say. “But I plan to make the most of it.”
“Me too.” She smiles.
I put up a good front, but inside I’m nervous as hell. I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off. Not only tonight but then having to date this guy for a month? What if I hate him? What if he’s a total prick? How am I going to stop myself from saying anything? And what if he doesn’t even like me? Or find me attractive? Then how do I get him to even see me again? Why oh why didn’t I think this through more before I agreed? Kat always brings out the competitive side in me. I mean, I hate losing anyway, but I especially hate losing to Kat, even if she is the most important person in the world to me.
We get to The Chesterfield a few minutes before seven o’clock. I valet park my car and we head inside. I send Alex a text to let him know we’ve arrived, then ask Harley if she wants to wait at the bar.
“I could use a little courage in a glass.” Her smile is nervous, backing up her claim to need courage.
We find two empty stools and sit down. The bartender tends to us immediately.
“I’ll take a Grey Goose martini, extra dirty,” I tell him.
“Uh, white wine,” Harley says.
“House okay?” the bartender asks.
She looks to me, I answer for her, “House is fine, thank you.”
“Buck up, Harley, you look amazing, he’s going to trip over his tongue when he sees you.”
“Thanks, Remi.”
The bartender serves us our drinks, I take a sip of my martini, and it’s perfect. I tell him so.
“I thought I recognized that ass.” I hear from behind me.
It sounds like... no, it can’t be... there’s no way.
I turn around cautiously.
Chance Bauer stands before me.
I look him up and down, he’s dressed up in a charcoal gray suit, white dress shirt, what appears to be a Robert Talbott tie, and shiny shoes.
I’m impressed.
“Icy, you look edible as always,” he says licking his lips.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, purposefully not returning the compliment.
“I’m on a date.”
“Figures you’d scope out other women while on a date.”
“She’s not here yet.”
“Uh huh.”
He clears his throat and nods toward Harley. “Who’s your friend?”
“Sorry,” I say. “That’s rude of me. Harley Reynolds, this is Chance Bauer. Chance, Harley. Chance is a policeman—”
“Detective,” he says.
“And Harley owns a yoga studio where she teaches,” I say.
Chance looks her up and down as well, the smile on his face is, dare I say it, downright charming. Harley blushes prettily. I have to admit, she wears a blush well, it looks good on her.
“What are you lovely ladies doing here this evening?” Chance asks.
“We’re on a date,” I say.
“With each other?” he asks. “I like it. Care to make it a threesome?” He waggles his eyebrows at us.
“I doubt your date would approve,” I say dryly.
“Not with each other,” Harley says awkwardly. “We are waiting for our dates. We aren’t, well, you know.”
“I don’t know, actually,” Bauer says. “Care to enlighten me?” A devilish smile on his face. I turn my back to him and take another drink of my martini. He takes the seat next to me.
“Really?” I ask. “Must you sit here?”
“Seat is open, and you ladies are enjoyable to look at. I’ll be the envy of every man here,” he says.
I roll my eyes at him. He’s so annoying.
My phone buzzes. I look down, it’s a text from Alex.
I lean over to Harley. “Alex just texted me, he was just in the restaurant restroom and will be here in a sec. His friend is already in the bar. Look for a guy with blondish brown hair in a gray suit.”
I peruse everyone whose reflection I can see in the mirror on the back wall of the bar, seeing no one that fits the description. I wish I could swallow the lump of nerves that is lodged in my throat. Harley turns slowly in her stool, looking around, then elbows me lightly in the side. I turn to her. She gestures toward Bauer, who is sipping his bourbon and watching the room.
“What?” I ask.
“He’s in a gray suit,” she whispers. “And he’s got blondish-brown hair.”
I look Chance up and down. She’s right, his suit is gray.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say his hair is blondish-brown,” I whisper back, hoping, beyond hope, that I’m right. “Maybe more light brown with blondish highlights?”
“Which is pretty much what blondish-brown is though, right?”
There is no way Chance Bauer is my date.
I look at him again.
Gray suit? Check.
Blondish-brown hair? Check.
Fuck my life.
Any other gray suits around? Negative.
I close my eyes and try to rein the sudden surge of emotions in. Because this can’t be happening. I feel my stomach hit the ground as the bar around me starts to spin. I want to throw up. It seems Chance Bauer always brings out that reaction in me.
Okay Remi, just calm down a minute. Maybe it’s not what you think.
Alex is in IT for the Police Department. Chance is a Detective. Chance is waiting for a date. We are waiting for a date.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It’s totally what I think.
“Hey that’s funny,” I hear from behind me. “You guys are sitting next to each other and probably didn’t even know it.”
Chance and I both turn around. Alex is there behind us.
“Come again?” Chance says at the same time that I say, “Excuse me?” I look at Chance, he looks at me, we both look at Alex.
It’s confirmed. My life is fucked.
“Oh no,” I say. “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.” I stand up and grab Alex by the tie and pull him away from the bar towards the waiting area.
“Harley, talk to Chance,” I say over my shoulder as we wal
k away.
“How did you know it was him?” Alex asks once we stop walking.
“I did not know it was him.”
“But you know his name.”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I know his name. Because I hate the man. Despise really. He can’t be my date. There’s no way. You be my date and we’ll set Harley up with Chance. Please, Alex. Please.”
“No way,” he says. “I got a glimpse of Harley and she’s hot. Plus, you don’t like me.”
“Of course, I like you. We practically dated for six months. I mean, look at you,” I gesture up and down his body. “What’s not to like? You’re funny, you’re good-looking, we get along great. That whole sex thing was just a fluke. In fact, I shouldn’t even bring it up, it was so insignificant. We can just forget about it. Poof. Gone,” I say, my voice rising crazily.
He looks at me, one eyebrow lifted.
I wouldn’t believe me either.
“Well, I like you way more than I like Chance,” I say.
He just stands there.
“Fine. Fuck, let’s get this over with,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Do you, um, want to cancel?” Alex clears his throat.
“No.” I think of my Louboutins. “It’s fine. Let’s go.” I drag him by the tie back to the bar.
“I’m right behind you, you don’t have to pull me.”
“You figured out what I figured out and you aren’t very happy about it, isn’t that right, Ice Queen?” Chance smirks as I get to the bar.
“That is right, simpleton. But I plan to make the best of it, even if it is you that I have to spend my evening with.” I pat him on the chest in what I hope is a patronizing manner.
“I’m Alex Fields,” Alex introduces himself to Harley and her back to him. Since, clearly, I’ve lost sight of my manners when faced with Chance Bauer as my date.
Before I have a chance to apologize to Harley for not making the introductions, the hostess approaches. “Mr. Fields, your table is ready if you’d like to follow me.”