The Date Dare

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The Date Dare Page 7

by Tara Sue Me


  I snort. “I doubt that.”

  “I’m a man. I know these things.”

  “Did you know he spent the night in my house last and nothing, and by nothing, I mean not one thing happened?”

  His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his knuckles turn white. “He may have mentioned it.”

  I can’t think of a reply to follow that, so I take another direction. “I’m really glad you’re joining us.”

  Now it’s his turn to snort. “Said no one ever to their third wheel best friend who crashed their brunch date.”

  I cross my arms. I hate it when he’s in a pissy mood. “You know, if you’re going to act like this, you can just drop me off at the door and drive yourself home. I don’t like being around you when you’re like this.”

  “Then there will be two of us who don’t want to be there.”

  I also hate it when we argue as he’s driving because I can’t see his expression. “Then why did you agree to come in the first place?”

  “I guess I can’t turn Tate down either. Oh, wait, you didn’t get the chance to turn him down, did you?”

  Damn it all, did Tate tell him every last detail about our relationship? He moves his head and I can see just enough of his face to tell he’s smirking. “Why are you being such an ass?”

  He sobers up at that. “I am, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”

  I give a half grunt and cross my arms. “No, you aren’t.”

  “I am because it distresses you and I never want to be the cause of that.” He presses his lips together before adding, “It’s just…I miss you is all. And I had today all planned out for just the two of us and I show up to get you and he’s there.”

  “Two things,” I say, but I should really say three, because that might be part of his problem, but I don’t believe for a minute that’s the whole of it. “One, you never called me about today, you simply showed up. And two, what’s wrong with Tate? You’ve been out with me and dates before, not to mention you’re the one who set us up.”

  He waits a few seconds before answering. “I think with those other guys, it never felt real. And Tate, I don’t know, he seems different. I can actually see you with him. I keep thinking, no matter what I do, one way or another, I’m going to end up losing you.”

  I feel sad all at once, because I can sense it as well. Things are changing. I don’t know if it all has to do with Tate, but something elemental is different about Elliott and I. Would it still be that way if we hadn’t kissed? I don’t know. I know one thing, though. I put my hand on his knee. “No matter what happens and no matter who I end up with, you will never lose me.”

  That actually gets a smile out of him. “Thanks, Darc.”

  Feeling better myself, I add, “However, all bets are off if you marry O2. If that happens, you’ll never see me again.”

  He glances at me with such a look of horror that I start laughing and once I start, I’m unable to stop. Elliott finds this hysterical and pretty soon, he’s laughing as well. And that’s what we’re doing when we pull up to the valet stand at the restaurant.

  Tate arches an eyebrow, but otherwise seems relieved. About what? I’m not sure and it won’t do any good to ask either man, because neither of them will tell me.

  Chapter Fourteen: Elliott

  “The compatibility of a couple and the quality of a relationship lies in the way they handle their arguments and differences.” Nishan Panwar

  “I didn’t know you were in love with her.”

  Tate’s words echo in my head during brunch. I’ve been under the assumption that I’ve managed to hide my feelings where Darcy is concerned. However, if Tate can see through my façade and so quickly realize the truth, I’m sure Darcy will as well. If she looks hard enough that is.

  Maybe she won’t. I’m pretty certain Tate isn’t going to tell her. Not only did I manage to lie my ass off and finally convince him I’m not in love with her, he confided that he believes she might be The One. I smiled and told him I was happy for him and that’s when he invited me to brunch.

  Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I accept. Now I get to spend the next hour or so watching Darcy and the man I’m sure is going to take my place in her life and heart. As soon as we walk into the place, everyone is staring at them. Of course they are. They are beautiful together. Anyone who looks long enough will also see how well they interact. The little smiles she gives him, the way he trips all over himself to get whatever she needs. It’s so sickening sweet.

  It’s enough to drive me to drinking.

  I don’t drink anything other than tea, though, because I don’t want to ruin this for her. Darcy is my heart and soul and this is such a simple thing to give her. I might as well get used to it. If she ends up with Tate, I’ll have to do this a lot in the future. Might as well practice now.

  I’m only half listening to their conversation, especially when the server comes over to refill my tea. Then Darcy says something that grabs my attention.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Which part?” She arches a perfect eyebrow at me when I don’t answer. “You haven’t been listening at all, have you?”

  I point to my tea. “I was thirsty, I’ve been trying to flag someone down.”

  She doesn’t believe me, but tells me anyway. “Tate and I were talking about next weekend. I’m going to take a few days off and go visit him in the mountains.”

  It hits me then that this relationship is more serious than I thought. “You are? But you’ve been home for over a month, isn’t it time for you to jet off somewhere for work?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m at home at least until the first of the year. And I’ve also requested a change in assignment so I can stay in Atlanta for most of the time. All that travel gets old, you know?”

  Yes, in fact, I do know. What I don’t know is how it is that I don’t know any of this. We’ve always exchanged schedules. We’ve always had to because both of us travel so much. Expect now it appears as if I’ll be the only one.

  But it’s more than that. Based on what she just said, she’s changing jobs and didn’t tell me. I didn’t even know she was thinking about it.That realization cuts deep as it sinks in she’s not telling me things she would have in the past. I work hard not to let this show. “I didn’t know you disliked it enough to change jobs. When did that happen?”

  “Just a few days ago, really.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal and I nod as if to say I totally get it, but on the inside I’m screaming.

  Today, she doesn’t tell me she’s changing jobs. What will she not tell me a week from now? A month? I suddenly lose my appetite.

  When I’m eighty I’ll still be beating myself up for setting her up with Tate.

  Except, I won’t. As long as he treats her well and makes her happy, I’ll be happy for her. I know her well enough to know she’ll never cut me out of her life. One day if she and Tate have kids, I can be their cool Uncle Elliott. I lie and tell myself that’ll be enough, but I’m not buying it. If being Uncle Elliott won’t be enough, what do I want? To be her kid’s dad?

  The room tilts as I think about that. I’ve never even thought about having kids, yet her I am eating brunch with Darcy and her boyfriend and suddenly I’m thinking about Darcy and I having kids? What the hell am I thinking?

  But once the thought is in my head, it won’t leave. It’s almost as if I can see them. There are three. The oldest is a girl and then there are twin boys.

  Across the table, Tate is laughing at something Darcy says. They both look at me and Darcy wrinkles her forehead. “Are you okay Elliott?” she asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “Just felt a little lightheaded there for a minute. I’m better already.”

  She doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? Do we need to leave? Should I call you a cab?”

  I shake my head.

  “He’s a grown man,” Tate says. “If he says he’s fine, he’s fine.”

&
nbsp; Conversation stalls after that. We finish eating, not saying much until the bill comes and Tate and I fight over who’s going to pick it up. Tate is momentarily distracted and it’s enough for me to grab the check.

  “Hey, Darcy,” Tate says. “Isn’t that the woman I met at your office last week?”

  “Shit,” Darcy says under her breath, and I look up to see Kara heading our way with a guy behind her.

  “Hey, Kara,” Tate says as they come to our table. “Good to see you. I’d offer to let you sit with us, but we’ve just finished.”

  “That’s okay,” Kara says. “Hi, Darcy. Elliott.”

  I can’t help but notice her expression cools a bit as she looks at me. I’m not sure why. I mean, it’s not like I poured my beer all over her and I wasn’t the one who was ridiculously late.

  “Nice to see you, Kara,” I say with a big of a smile as I can get away with.

  “This is Dan,” Kara says, introducing the man at her side. He’s a bit taller than me, but he has an air about him that seems a bit fake. I peg him either as a news anchor or an actor. “He works for News Eleven,” she finishes.

  He shakes Tate and Dracy’s hands and seems nice enough. Until he turns to me with the world’s dorkiest grin. “So you’re Elliott? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Darcy

  “You don’t find love, it finds you.” Anaïs Nin

  The Friday afternoon after brunch I’m driving up to Tate’s camp. It’s about a three hour drive and the time alone in the car allows me to think. I see this weekend as a kind of like ‘Do or Die’ for Tate and me. He’s a good guy and all, but I don’t feel passionate about him. I suppose that’s not necessary, I mean, a lot of people don’t have passionate relationships all the time. That’s okay, right?

  I don’t know. Lately, it seems I don’t know anything at all. Everything is so confusing. Even the things that used to be simple, like Elliott. Why do I feel more passion toward Elliott than I do Tate? It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t help but think maybe it’s because I’ve known him for so long.

  Then I think about that kiss.

  Granted, I’m not a prude, and I don’t come close to the other end of the spectrum, but I’ve dated my share of guys, and I’ve kissed most of them. No one, not one single one, as ever come close to affecting me the way Elliott’s kiss did. I shouldn’t think about the kiss, because once I do, I won’t be able to stop. Thinking about Elliott and his kiss while I’m with Tate is not a good idea.

  I force myself to stop thinking about Elliott and focus my attention on Tate and the upcoming weekend. Tate has kissed me. It’s nothing earth shattering. Hell, it’s not even earth tilting. But it was nice. I sigh. Is that what I want? Nice ? I don’t know.

  I don’t have a parental relationship to look up to. I know some people whose parents have been married forty or fifty years. But not mine, and not Elliott’s either. If I had that, an example to look up to, maybe I’d know what a marriage should look like. I don’t. All I have are books and TV.

  Maybe that’s what my problem is. Maybe, I’ve watched too many movies, read too many books, and have a misguided and delusional thoughts on what marriage should look like. Maybe nice is okay. If that’s the case, I should be completely and head over heels happy with Tate.

  But I can’t help think that there’s something more. That marriage is something more. That love is something more. And nice is nothing but settling. And I don’t want to settle. I want it all. I want the fairytale, happy ending, happily ever after, and the to be continued. I want fireworks and explosions. I want fights and making up. And I want sex, lots and lots of dirty, nasty, loving, passionate sex.

  So the question for this weekend is, am I getting that with Tate? And if not, can I live with nice?

  It’s those two questions that have driven me insane all week, that kept me from sleep, and that I spent way too much time obsessing over. I’m here until Monday. Hopefully by the time I’m driving home on Monday afternoon, I’ll know one way or the other if Tate is the one for me. Or if I should just keep looking for something else somewhere down the line.

  I can do this. I need to do this. I will do this.

  * * *

  Surprisingly, the miles go by quickly as I think about the upcoming weekend and Elliott and Tate. It isn’t long before I pull through the camp’s gates. The beauty of the area stuns me. All lush and green with wildflowers and tall trees. So different from Atlanta. So peaceful.

  Following the directions Tate gave me, I continue along the winding gravel drive and pull into a small parking lot. I stop my car, pleased to see Tate walking toward me.

  “Hey,” he says. “You made good time.”

  “Traffic wasn’t all that bad,” I tell him.

  He hugs me and kisses my cheek. I wonder briefly why he does that? Why my cheek and not my lips? The next time I’ll move my face and make him kiss my lips.

  He pulls away. “Let me get your bags.”

  I pop open the trunk and gather my purse and laptop while Tate grabs the bigger bags. “This way,” he says, leading me to what he calls the guesthouse. He goes on to explain that the small house is more often than not, empty.

  I imagine that most people who come with a group, would more than likely stay in the cabins or the dormitories as Tate calls them. Tate had told me once before he lives in the main building on the campus. Apparently, he has renovated the upper floors into his personal living space. I thought that I would be staying there. I was obviously mistaken.

  When I think about it, it makes sense because he would want to set an example. However, it still annoys me a little.

  We walk inside the guest house and though it is small, like he’d said, it is clean and cozy. Containing only a small living room, a kitchenette, and a bedroom with an attached bathroom, it has everything I need for the weekend.

  “This is lovely,” I say, walking towards the back window which is huge and takes up most of the back wall. “I think if I lived here, I’d never want to leave.”

  He chuckles. “I don’t think I could live in the city,” he says. “Although, it is good to get away from nature every so often.”

  “The good thing about getting away, is that when you get home, this is what you have to look forward to.”

  “Very true,” he says. I can see the pride in his eyes, as he looks over the land that he has claimed as his own.

  I know from talking with him as well as my online research, that he and his staff operate the camp with the children coming in every two to four weeks. On occasion, a few will stay longer than that and a few who will stay shorter. They do a lot online to ensure the kids aren’t behind with class when they return. There’s also a separate meeting area set up in case the children have family come for visits.

  I tell Tate to just leave my bags in the bedroom and I’ll unpack later, because I can tell he’s excited to show me around the place. He locks the door behind us, and hands me a key that I slip in my pocket.

  We take our time as we walk, and I can’t help but watch his face light up as he gives me the grand tour. It’s very quiet and it appears as if we’re the only ones out and about. Which is fine by me, at least until I get my bearings.

  He owns a few hundred acres. A lot of it is cleared, but there is a fair amount of wooded land as well. He points out four separate dormitories, two for boys and two for girls, each divided by age as well as the staff housing behind them. The main house where he lives, is nearby and also contains a kitchen, dining area, and a meeting room, all on the first floor. There is another separate building for the school and multipurpose rooms. Behind the main house is a smaller building he tells me he hopes to turn into a library/music room soon, if he can get the funding.

  The outside activity area is huge as one would expect complete with a lake for water sports, and a large campfire area he says is a big camp favorite. His voice grows wistful as he shows me the area where he has planned to build a barn to house a few horses. He als
o mentions he’d like to get a few chickens, but admits it’ll be later before he gets serious about doing anything about that. The barn and library/music room, he says, are his next project.

  I know from reading online a lot of what he has going on. But I have to admit that I’m shocked and surprised at how much he’s taken on. Likewise, I’m impressed at how much he has already accomplished. There are those who thought he made a huge mistake by turning down all the money from New York. However seeing all this, it’s clear he made the right decision. He looks at home here. Much more so than he did in the city.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask as he walks me back to the guest house to unpack.

  He glances at his watch. “They’re just finishing up group sessions and then it’ll be free time for about an hour, then dinner. Are you hungry?”

  I’ve been a little bit nervous about meeting the children, as well as the staff that works here. Part of that is because I can’t help but wonder how many other women he has brought by this place in the past.

  I want to ask Tate if they know that I’m here, or if they know about me, period. Unfortunately, I can’t think a way to ask without sounding horribly self important.

  “Sure.” I look up at him and smile. “Looking forward to it.”

  He chuckles, and I don’t think he believes me at all.

  As it turns out, there’s nothing for me to worry about. His staff is friendly and welcoming, and the children are just as nice. In fact, it's a wonderful dinner and I have a great time meeting and talking with everyone. I joke with Tate there is no way I’m going to remember everyone’s name. We sit at a table in the middle of everyone, which is good for talking with people, but not necessarily good for private conversation with Tate.

  The children are excited because after dinner there’s a movie planned outside on a big screen the staff are bringing in. Tate asks if I would like to join, and I tell him of course I do, I haven’t driven all this way and taken time off of work to sit in the guest house the entire time by myself.

 

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