by R.S. Grey
Just as the voicemail cuts off, Lori’s bell chimes again, announcing another sale.
“I guess I’m just on fire today!” she exclaims.
“You’re all that and a bag of chips!” someone shouts.
Though it’s tempting, I don’t skewer my eye with the nearest pen. Instead, I get to work.
CHAPTER FOUR
MADELEINE
I didn’t plan to be this dysfunctional at 27, but dysfunctionality has a way of creeping up on you. One second, you’re 22, wrapping up your undergraduate degree from a top business school, and then suddenly, you’re sitting alone in your car at 27, wondering how five years slipped through your fingers without so much as a blink.
There are the obvious struggles—my bills are piling up, my rent is late, and my car is a clunker—but it’s the other, more personal aspects of my life that keep me up at night. The fact that I am currently (and probably forever) single is a much harder pill to swallow than my overdue rent. Dealing with car troubles isn’t so bad if you have someone there to commiserate with.
Worse, my single status is not from a lack of trying. I am signed up and active on no less than four dating apps. I’ve attended multiple Hamilton Singles events, and I’m never one to shy away from a blind date.
My mother has been relentless about it too. Just last week on the phone she babbled on about how when she was my age, she already had two kids. I told her I have Mouse, who is pound for pound worth about five kids, but she didn’t seem to think that compared. Whatever. There’s nothing more I can do. I want to be madly in love as much as she wants me to be, but unless she can wave a wand and magically produce Mr. Tall Dark & Handsome for me, I’m kind of screwed.
See, my lack of a love life doesn’t really have anything to do with me. I mean, sure, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m kind of sarcastic and crass at times, but Daisy assures me guys don’t care about that because of my other more prominent features. I think her exact words were, “You’re hot, you’re in shape, and you’ve got nice boobs. I don’t see the problem.”
She might be lying to me to keep me from throwing myself off the nearest cliff, but I’ve lived in my body long enough to know it’s not the problem.
Hamilton is the problem.
This town is small.
Most dating apps show you eligible men within a certain number of miles. I’ve widened my parameters to encompass the entire county, but the prospects are still abysmal. I scroll through Tinder now as I sit outside of Daisy’s house, wondering if I’ll see a new face pop up. I don’t know why I bother; there are never new faces. I scroll past Jimmy, who was my boyfriend in elementary school for a week and a half. There’s Martin, who is about a foot shorter than me on a good day, and Cale, the cowboy who lives on the outskirts of town who isn’t half bad-looking once you’ve had three or four beers. Oh and look, it’s Jared, the guy who owns Hamilton’s only gym and who routinely updates his dating profile to include even more overly tanned, overly muscled bathroom mirror selfies. I swear if you ran a finger down his arm, you’d come away with spray tan goop.
I have zero new matches on all five of my dating apps, and though I’m tempted to let it get to me, I don’t. This is nothing new. Hamilton is Hamilton, and unless I’m willing to pack up and move to a bigger city, I’ll have to make the best of it—and I do. Right before I head inside, I RSVP to a Hamilton Singles event in two weeks. I haven’t been to one in a month, and I’m optimistic that this one will be worth my time. See Mother?! Contrary to what you think, I don’t just sit at home wallowing in self-pity. I put myself out there.
Daisy opens her front door when I’m not even a quarter of the way up her front path. She must have been parked at the window, waiting for me.
“Hey stalker.”
She ignores me, rushes forward, and grabs my arm.
“I don’t want you to get excited, but there’s someone here I really think you should meet. Wait…” She scans the ground around my feet. “Where’s Mouse?”
“At home. He got really dirty after I took him to the park and I didn’t want him ruining your stuff.”
She groans. “That’s precisely what I want him to do. Your brother is so stubborn about hanging on to things. That rug in the family room is hideous, but he doesn’t seem to think we need a new one unless the current one is ruined.”
I laugh. “I’ll try my best to spill my wine tonight.”
“Thank you. Now, hurry, there’s a new guy here that I’ve never met before and I think he’s single!”
Though she seems excited, I’m not. Daisy only moved back to Hamilton two years ago, and she’s routinely confused by who’s an actual newcomer and who just decided to grow a beard.
“If it’s Kyle Parker again, I’ll punch you. He’s lived here his whole life Daisy—he just has a man bun now and I swear it confuses you every time.”
She rolls her eyes and keeps dragging me after her, which is no simple feat considering the footwear she’s decided on tonight. Her whole outfit is spot on and trendy: a simple red dress with nude pumps. Her blonde hair is loosely braided down her back, probably left over from work, and her makeup is just enough to make her already beautiful features stand out even more. I now regret changing into jeans, even if I did put on the pair that makes my ass look, in Daisy’s words, “killer”.
“Should I change into something of yours?” I ask as we pass through the foyer. “You’re a lot fancier than I am.”
She turns and gives me a onceover, breaking out in a slow smile. “No, you look hot. That shirt is just tight enough to show off your figure without being indecent, and I like when you wear your hair down like that. It drives guys insane.”
I shrug, remembering the zero new matches waiting for me on my dating apps. I guess I’ll have to take her word for it.
We pause in the kitchen for wine, and I can see most of their guests clustered out back on their wraparound porch. Surprisingly, it’s a nice evening in Texas—not too hot, and the mosquitos have yet to invade for the summer. Everyone is sipping wine or beer and sort of hovering around in clusters. As far as parties go, this is extremely tame.
“No beer pong? No kegs?” I ask as Daisy pours me a glass of chilled white wine, my favorite.
She levels me with a glare. “Your brother wanted a low-key housewarming party.”
“Yeah, about that—is it still considered a housewarming party if you guys have already lived here for six months?”
She shrugs as she finishes pouring herself a glass. “It’s taken us that long just to furnish the place, so yes, it counts.”
I nod and take in my surroundings. Their house is beautiful, one of the older Victorian-style houses that line the streets of downtown Hamilton. It was recently restored, but the original wood floors were left intact. Their dark stain juxtaposed with the white marble countertops and modern light fixtures make the home feel updated and fresh. In short, I’d cut off my right arm to own a house like this.
Honestly, I can’t believe it’s been six months since I sold it to them. I cringe thinking of how little of that commission check is left. I used a large chunk of it to pay off the last of my student loans, and I put some of it in savings. The rest might as well have floated away like sand for all the good it did me. A couple months of rent and I’m right back where I started: in desperate need of a new client, one who isn’t Mr. Boggs.
“Ready to head outside?” Daisy asks me, her tone a little gentler than usual. She can probably sense I’ve had a hard day at work. There’s no need to ramble on about Lori and the rest of her minions; Daisy has heard it all before, and she sympathizes as much as she can. She and Lucas own their own family practice and have the luxury of being their own bosses. I’ve daydreamed about quitting the agency and going to work for them, but working as an office coordinator in a small doctor’s office doesn’t really interest me. Besides, I like real estate, even if I’m not very good at it.
We head outside and Daisy sticks close to me as I nod to
the guests I know, which is a good portion of them. Most of them are classmates I’ve kept in touch with over the years. In a small town, it’s kind of impossible not to, especially with the assistance of Facebook. Susie Mathers is sitting on a rocking chair a few feet away with her feet up on a cooler as a makeshift ottoman—she’s nine months pregnant and about ready to pop. Her husband, Dale, stands just to her left chatting with friends, and all the while, his hand sits on her shoulder. It’s a sweet gesture, and it makes me guzzle my wine faster than I should.
I’m about to go refill my glass when Daisy yanks on my arm. “There’s the guy!” she whispers. “Over there talking to your brother.”
It’s not hard to find Lucas. He’s hovering on the porch stairs with a small group of guys, and I recognize all of them except the one with his back turned to me. He’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. I tilt my head in his direction and Daisy nods in confirmation.
I narrow my eyes, trying to assess as much of him as possible from the back. His dark brown hair is mussed up and cute. His arms are toned, and though I don’t think I’ve ever really been the type to notice, he has a great ass. Still, I highly doubt he’s new to town. Daisy has steered me wrong too many times in the past.
Lucas sees us standing in the doorway staring and waves us over. The stranger turns and follows his gaze, and I have my answer.
My eyes widen in shock.
Oh, I know him all right.
“No. No. I know him,” I hiss to Daisy, but it’s already too late. She doesn’t hear me—she’s too busy playing Cupid and pushing me toward the group. I have no choice but to follow along with her plan. If I plant my feet on the deck and resist her, I’ll trip and fall on my face, and that’s the only thing worse than actually giving in.
The guys watch us approach. I hug Lucas and nod to his friends, then I reluctantly force myself to glance toward the last man in the group.
Adam.
The asshole vet.
“Madeleine,” he says, greeting me with a small nod.
“Adam.”
Everyone in the group is silent, staring between the two of us and trying to dissect our cold greeting.
“I hardly recognized you without Mouse,” he quips.
I smile and it’s fake and he knows it. “And I hardly recognized you without that scowl on your face.”
The scowl in question now takes over his handsome features. There, now that’s the Adam I know.
Daisy speaks up first. “Wait, you two already know each other?”
“He’s Mouse’s vet,” I explain quickly.
Adam smiles, but it doesn’t reach his green eyes. “We met before that though. I have the muddy suit to prove it.”
I stare down at my wine, grateful that their back porch isn’t lit with spotlights considering how red my cheeks are. “Oh, yeah. True. I guess Mouse mauled him or something the other morning, no big deal.”
Lucas doesn’t have the decency to keep his mouth shut. “What do you mean Mouse mauled him?”
I suddenly hate my brother.
Especially because now I have no choice but to regale the whole group with the story of how I’m the worst dog owner in the world. All the while, Adam stands across from me with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around a beer koozie. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and though I wish he would look away, he’s watching me, curious—probably champing at the bit to cut me off and finish the story in his own words.
“I apologized and offered to pay for dry-cleaning. He didn’t take me up on the offer, and here we are. Can I get anyone a drink?”
Everyone is staring at me like they’re deer caught in headlights. It’s as if they’ve never heard of the classic girl’s dog mauls stranger story.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a no,” I say, turning to head back into the kitchen to refill my wine glass.
Daisy trails after me and barely manages to contain herself until we have the back door closed.
“That’s the guy you emailed me about the other day!?”
It was the morning after the “mauling” incident and I had to tell someone. Now, I regret going into detail about how cute he was. She knows I’m interested.
“Yes.” I nod simply. “That’s him.”
“He’s really nice and really good-looking, Madeleine, AND he has a great career too. A veterinarian? How noble is that! He cares about animals.”
I over-pour and have no choice but to sip the top of the wine from the glass so it doesn’t spill over the edge when I pick it up. Oops.
“I don’t see why any of this is relevant.”
“Because you’re single,” she points out.
“Oh right, I’d forgotten.”
“And Adam could definitely remedy that situation.”
I laugh again. Apparently Daisy didn’t read the email carefully enough or listen to my story outside. Her gears must have already been cranking underneath all that shiny hair of hers.
“Why did you invite him here anyway?” I ask, turning the table. “How do you know him?”
“Lucas invited him. He’s renting the house across the street. Apparently he’s only been in town for a few weeks.”
I stop sucking the wine from the top of my glass and whip around.
“Excuse me, did you just say he’s renting a house?”
She shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah. It sounded like he just needed something temporary while he got settled.”
So he might be in the market for a house.
Which means he might need a realtor.
He might need me.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see a man about a house.”
“What? No! Daisy, you’re supposed to date him, not work for him.”
I stopped listening to her a while ago and I’m already halfway to the back door. Lori’s Five Ss are running through my head. Smile. Suck up. Sell, sell, sell. Right. Easier said than done with a man like Adam. Fortunately, I have the foresight to snatch a cold beer from the ice bucket on the back porch just before I make my way back to the group on the stairs.
Smile, I remind myself.
I flash my pearly whites, and I’m confident my dimple is adorably visible. He assesses me as I approach. I try to stretch my smile even wider, and then his green eyes narrow and he frowns. FROWNS. Who frowns at people these days? You’re supposed to hide your emotions behind a mask of polite indifference—that’s what my mother always taught me.
“Here you go, Adam. A fresh beer for your, uh…koozie.”
My hand is outstretched, the beer is there dripping with condensation, and he doesn’t take it. He leaves me standing like that for a solid ten seconds, and everyone in the group is stunned into silence. It seems I’m pretty good at ruining the flow of conversation tonight.
“I just started on this one,” he replies, holding up his still-full beer.
Lucas chimes in, “I’ll take it, Maddie.”
I snatch it out of my brother’s reach. “You should stay sober, Lucas. What if there’s a medical emergency?”
“What, is Mouse coming over later?” Adam quips.
Everybody laughs.
I resist the urge to sear him with my gaze and I think he can tell, because he defuses the situation with a small smile.
“Thank you for the beer.” He takes the bottle from my hand, careful to keep our fingers from touching, and plops it down on the railing behind him. “I’ll put it right here and when I’m done with this one, I’ll drink it.”
I grin. “Sounds good. So, Adam, you’re new to town?”
He glances toward Lucas and then back to me, clearly confused by my shift in attitude. “Moved here about a month ago.”
“He’s renting the house across—”
I cut Lucas off before he can continue, my attention laser-focused on Adam. “Where did you move from?”
“Chicago.”
He seems to be uncomfortable with my line of questioning, so I try to ease up and act a bit
more natural. “Ahhh, Chicago. So you’re into hot dogs, deep dishes, large reflective beans, that sort of thing? I’ve always wanted to visit.”
Daisy laughs. “Bullshit, you hate the cold. I tried to get you to go two years ago and you said ‘over my dead body’.”
If we were sitting down at dinner, I’d kick her in the shin under the table. Since we’re all hovering in an awkward circle, I have no choice but to smile and wave away her old, outdated information.
“Oh Daisy. I loooove cold weather now, especially in Chicago.”
Adam nods. “Yeah, I’m not a fan myself. That was part of the reason why I wanted to move down here.”
I scramble. “Oh, right, me too. I wouldn’t really call myself a fan of cold weather per se…”
I’m aware that the other members of our group are starting to drop like flies. Two of Lucas’ friends have already peeled off, and Lucas himself is inching away. I swear Adam keeps darting his gaze over my left shoulder, trying to find an escape. That can’t be right, though. I’m usually an excellent conversationalist.
“Did you own property back in Chicago? A house? Condo maybe?”
“Maddie, you’re being weird. Stop interrogating the guy,” Lucas says, clapping Adam on the shoulder. “C’mon man, you want to see the garage? There’s a ping pong table in there.”
Adam doesn’t even hesitate, fleeing with Lucas without so much as a backward glance in my direction.
I curse under my breath.
“What the hell was that?” Daisy asks, taking my glass and sniffing the wine suspiciously. “Has this gone bad? Did you just have some kind of mini stroke?”
I stomp my foot. “No! Dammit. I was trying to secure him as my next client.”
“By acting as if you have half a brain?”
“I don’t know! Usually I don’t have a problem talking to clients. Adam makes me nervous.”
