by Nia Arthurs
“Unless you’d prefer something else?”
“No. No. I love superhero movies.”
“You do?”
My neck threatens to roll off my head from how hard I’m nodding.
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either.” I pull my lips in, feeling shy. “I don’t normally agree to dates with random strangers.”
He smiles. “I don’t normally do this either, but there was something about you, Ina.”
My entire body goes stiff.
He reaches out, but stops before touching me. “Are you okay?”
“I never told you my name.”
“What? Yes, you did.”
Suspicious, I surge forward and offer my hand.
He pulls back.
Our eyes collide.
His are shining with guilt.
“How did you know not to touch me?”
“Oh, I—” His eyes dart to the left. I look in that direction and see a woman with long, reddish-brown hair staring at us. She notices me watching and gasps, darting behind a tree.
The truth hits me square between the eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I speed toward her horrible hiding spot. “Venus!”
Seven
Ina
“Don’t be angry,” Venus whines, following me into the house.
“You sent some random guy to seduce me and I’m not supposed to be upset?”
“He’s not random. His name is Gregory Phillips and he’s really nice. We met at one of Troy’s exhibits. He seemed perfect for you.”
“What is all this fuss about?” Mrs. G rises from the couch, yawning.
“Venus hired someone to flirt with me.”
“I did not.” Venus marches ahead. “I arranged a cute way for you two to meet.”
“I’m drenched in sweat and my hair’s a mess. What about this is cute?”
“You look fantastic!”
“I look like a bum!” I tug on my baggy T-shirt with the very obvious sweat stain down the front.
She rolls her eyes. “I chose the park because I thought it would be romantic. And did you see the arms on that guy? Those guns needed to be out in the wild.”
Mrs. G frowns. “Are you sure you’re my daughter?”
“Yes, Mom.” She smiles glibly. “I have the birth mark on my butt to prove it.”
“This is not about your stupid butt-mark, okay?” I smack my hand to get her attention back.
“I was trying to help.” Venus huffs. “You’re the one who kept talking about how much you wanted to be in a relationship.”
My eyes dart to Mrs. G, who looks slightly stunned.
“Still!” I growl.
Mrs. G waves a hand. “I need to use the bathroom.”
As she waddles down the hall, I plop down in the couch. “Is this all because of that dumb bet?”
“It’s not dumb.”
I brush away a curl that’s sticking to the sweat on my cheek. “Call Amina and Kayla right now and tell them the bet’s off.”
“Why?”
I glare at her.
“Ina, this is a great opportunity. Greg was just the first guy. It gets so much better.”
“Let me guess. Guy Number Two was supposed to limp into the hospital on Monday with a fake injury and a marriage proposal?”
Her eyes light up. “That’s a great idea—”
“Venus!”
She jumps.
“How will I know if someone’s just being nice or if you Make It Marriage women are trying to set me up?”
“I promise I won’t go behind your back again. We’ll do everything with your permission and approval. I’ll tell the other girls too.”
I’m pretty sure the others don’t need the warning. Venus is the only one who’d think of something this wild.
“Please don’t cancel.”
“How much money do you guys have on this anyway?”
“Five grand.”
My jaw drops.
“It’s a three month deadline. The one to match you with your soul mate gets everything.”
“You’re all insane.”
“No, it’s super fun.”
“My love life is worth five grand to you?”
“No. Your happiness is worth five grand to me.”
I bark out a laugh because I just can’t believe this. “It’s not like you need the money.”
“It’s not about money, Ina. It’s about pride.” She makes a fist.
“What about my pride? That was humiliating.”
“No way. You were totally vibing him.”
“He was playing me.”
“No, he thought you were cute and wanted to get to know you.” She rolls her eyes when I slant her a disbelieving look. “It’s true. I showed him your picture and told him you were a nurse. He said he’d love to meet.”
I groan.
“Maybe I gave him some tips about how to approach you, but it was with the best intentions. I swear.”
I sigh. “You really think this will work?”
“It’s better than leaving it up to chance, right?”
“Fine.”
“Really?”
“But if we’re doing this, it’s my rules. My way.”
“Okay. Whatever you want.”
“I’ll only meet these guys while the sun is out.” I shudder to think of a man picking me up at night and expecting a goodnight kiss at the end of a disastrous date. “No dinner dates.”
“Sure.”
“We’ll squeeze in as many dates as possible in a short amount of time. Maybe one every other day.”
“What? That’s not enough time to make a solid connection!”
“That’s more than enough time to know if it’s worth it.” I fold my arms over my chest. “And I’ll give you three chances each.”
“Just three?”
My eyes sharpen. “Or I can call it off.”
“Three is great.” She nods. “And we’ll work with your schedule.”
The comic book café pops into mind. “I choose the place.” I stare her down. “And you guys can’t be there.” I can just imagine all three of the Make It Marriage agents hiding in bushes and spying on me through binoculars. “Not even on the premises. Nothing.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
Mrs. G returns from the bathroom. She wipes her thick hands on the side of her pants. “Are you really matching Ina with someone?”
“Not just me. Amina and Kayla too.”
“Thank God.” Mrs. G pads to the kitchen.
I tap Venus on the hand before she and her mom get into a fight. “Where’s Troy?”
“At home. I’m heading there now. You want to come with?”
“So I can watch you guys drool over each other? No thanks.” I shake my head. “I was just wondering what he thinks of all this.”
“He’s on my team.” She climbs to her feet. “He has no choice but to be supportive.”
“Poor guy,” I mumble.
Venus laughs.
Mrs. G returns to the living room with a mug of coffee and a disapproving glare.
Venus blows her mother a kiss.
“Are you leaving already?”
“Troy got a new bed. We need to test it out. See if it’ll hold up better than the last one.”
“Young lady!”
“Love you, Mom!” Venus skips through the front door.
Mrs. G sinks into the sofa with a sigh. “That girl.” She blows her coffee and watches me over the rim. She sets the mug down. “You asked Venus to do this?”
“Not exactly.” I pick at my tights.
“You’re not exactly turning her down either.”
“I just…”
“What?”
I lift my eyes to the ceiling. “I’m tired of running.”
“From?”
“Happiness.”
“And you think a man will make you happy?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” She rests her chin on her hand
s. When she does that, she looks like my therapist. This kind of feels like a question my therapist would ask too.
“I feel like I’m stepping into a new season of my life.” I meet her dark eyes. “I want to be open to all the possibilities.”
“To love.”
“Yes.”
She smiles to herself. “Life is funny.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. G sets her mug down and grabs her purse. “I’d like to put in a bet of my own.”
I laugh. “No way.”
“Why not? I’ll put up five dollars.”
I don’t tell her the pool is five grand. “You have someone you want to introduce me to?”
“No, I don’t.”
My eyebrows knit. “Are you betting I’ll stay single?”
“That man you’re waiting for? I’m betting he’ll find you.”
Eight
Lucas
“Found you!” My office door slams against the wall, rattling my framed certificates. Nellie marches inside, stopping to whistle under her breath. “Nice place, Luc.”
I study her, my red pen hovering over my desk. “You were looking for me?”
“Yeah.” She tosses a letterman jacket on my desk. It flaps over my laptop. “Give that to your brother.”
I frown and shift the jacket away from the papers I’m checking. “Any reason you can’t give him yourself?”
“Let’s see?” She taps her chin. “Because I hate him.”
“Right.”
“Awesome. See yah.”
“Oh, wait. Wait!”
She spins, her dark brown skin a sharp contrast to her white shirt. There’s dark makeup around her eyes and a maroon color on her lips. It’s a little intimidating, all that makeup.
“Wasn’t Ina wearing this jacket on Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
I wait for a further explanation.
There are none.
“How’d that happen?” I prod.
“She tore her blouse at the party and Jonas gave her his jacket. Which is something any decent person would do so I’m not really sure how he thought of it.” Nellie plants a hand on her hip. “Is that all?”
“Yeah.”
She nods and marches toward the door.
I lower my head to focus on my work.
Nellie’s hand hits the wall with a smack.
She stops.
Turns back to me. “Are you really going to do this?”
“Do what?”
She closes the door. “This.”
I shrug, totally lost.
“Just ask me!”
“Ask you what?”
“About Ina.”
My grin fades. “Why would I do that?”
She shoots me a you’ve got to be kidding look. “Because you’re dying to know.”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Perfect is relative.
Ina popped into my mind all weekend.
Yesterday, she lingered.
I was writing my newsletter. The process was like pulling teeth. No matter how much I tried, the words just wouldn’t come. The blank page and that blasted white cursor seemed to laugh at me.
Then I thought of Ina. I pictured what I’d say if she were in front of me. I wrote my newsletter as if I were talking to her and the words gushed.
More than that.
I wrote the best newsletter in the store’s history.
It was so good, a few customers even responded.
Ina’s my muse.
That’s all it is.
Nellie shakes her head in mock annoyance. “I can’t believe this.”
“Why are you still here?” I fold my arms.
“It’s a free country,” she says.
How convenient.
“And stop acting clueless.” Her heels click against the tiles as she crosses the room and slaps her hands on the desk. “Ask me, dammit!”
“I’m good.”
“She’s not eighteen.”
My gaze shifts back to hers. “Who?”
“You know who.”
I do. But damn if that doesn’t make me feel pathetic.
“She’s not half your age. She’s closer to your age than you think.”
“She’s still a student here.”
Nellie presses her lips together. “Is that enough to stop you?”
“It’s the rules.”
“And you’re such a good rule follower, aren’t you, Luc?”
“You trying to insult me?”
“I’m trying to help you. It’s been ages since you’ve looked at a woman the way you looked at Ina.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sometimes you’re too stiff. You need to loosen up.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Life is all about the risks you take and sometimes you can’t think—“
“Not thinking can get people killed,” I snap.
Nellie goes quiet.
Her dark eyes pierce mine.
That blasted pity crawls over her expression.
Somewhere along the line, I grew to despise that look. It’s a hopeless reminder that everyone can see my pain. That I’m not doing a good enough job acting like I have it all together.
Because I don’t.
But I don’t need anyone stumbling on that particular truth either.
I fold Jonas’s jacket. “I’ll make sure he gets this.”
“Whatever.” She hurls herself around and stomps to the door.
I stare at the papers on my desk, seeing nothing.
“You know what? I’ll tell you anyway.” Nellie pins me with a dark glare. “Ina’s not a student here so you can un-bunch your boxers. All your little rules are safe and sound.”
“Nellie—”
She yanks the door shut.
I flop back in my seat.
Ina’s not a student.
My computer chirps. I drag glazed eyes over to the laptop, barely able to register anything the way my mind is rushing.
And then I blink.
And the words on-screen come into focus.
1 New Message
I click on the tab.
My gaze fastens on the name at the top of the page.
1 New Message
From: Ina Lopez
I don’t open her email immediately. Can’t take the chance I’ll get interrupted. Anybody can burst through the doors. I have lectures, student consultations—a million disruptions.
Ina’s message feels like a gift. When I read that email, I need to concentrate.
To savor.
To enjoy.
But waiting comes with its own challenges.
Time slows.
Drags.
Crawls.
Tortures.
It’s the longest five hours and fifty minutes of my life.
But I make it.
I’m home.
I toss my keys on the hook and slip out of my shoes.
The place is silent.
Which is usual whether Jonas is here or not.
And he’s mostly not.
Can’t say I blame him.
His life keeps changing drastically.
People disappear without warning.
First our parents.
Then our sister.
So much loss at such a young age would break anybody.
Jonas was always quiet but after Kate…
His words dried up and so has his joy. His life is nothing but school and basketball.
We both dealt with grief in our own ways.
It’s a dark and lonely road.
But, for some reason, I feel like I’m edging closer to the light.
I loosen my tie and fall into the couch.
After the laptop is wrestled from my bag, I drop it on my lap and log in.
There it is.
1 New Message
From: Ina Lopez
With a deep breath, I click on her name.
Dear Lu
cas,
Was that newsletter for me?
I felt like you were calling me out for not choosing between Marvel and DC.
I smile as I read the message through.
The grin widens as I read it again.
Ina’s witty and intelligent. In just a few short lines, she made me feel like we were standing in the same room.
If I look up, I can see her.
Her shy brown eyes flickering with quiet strength.
Her plump lips—red-stained—stretching into a smile.
Her brows furrowing and relaxing as she makes her case.
So…
The woman made an impression.
I’ll give her that.
My fingers fly over the keyboard as I type out a reply. The excitement coursing through my veins is irrelevant. She’s a customer who took the time to write to me. I’m fostering brand loyalty by returning that email in a prompt and timely manner.
Business.
That’s all it is.
I press ‘SEND’ and set the laptop down to make myself dinner.
Jonas gets home when I’m almost done with the pasta.
“I made spaghetti,” I tell him.
“No thanks.”
“You ate at practice?”
He nods. Disappears into his room.
I scratch my head. Should I go after him?
I’m the older brother, but I’ve never been great at this stand-in parent thing.
That was always Kate’s role.
With a sigh, I share out dinner for myself—making sure to leave enough in case Jonas gets hungry later—and return to the living room.
The laptop is still on.
Still turned to my email.
I freeze when I see the red icon telling me Ina’s replied.
Setting my food on the coffee table, I grab the computer and pull it close.
Dear Lucas,
I admit you have a point, but it also pains me to say that. So I’m going to selfishly believe that I’m right and you’re wrong.
I laugh.
Read through it.
Type out a reply.
While I eat, I keep an eye on my email, waiting for her response.
The tab remains blank.
There are no new emails.
A few hours later, Jonas emerges from his bedroom and starts shuffling around in the kitchen.
“I left spaghetti for you!” I yell.
He grunts his appreciation.
I check my laptop.
No messages.
More hours pass.
It’s getting late.
