The Felix Fiasco

by Randi Devilkin

  Copyright © 2021 Randi Devilkin

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) or distributed without the prior written permission of the copyright owner/publisher of this novella. This e-book is licensed for one reader’s personal enjoyment and may not be resold. Thank you for respecting the work of the author.

  This novella is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Magnificent

  The man is absolutely magnificent. He’s more everything than a man his age should be.

  I cover my eyes to block the vision. Inhale–four, three, two, one. Exhale–four, three, two, one. Okay now, let’s take another look. My fingers separate a smidge to allow a peek. He’s still there looking like a beefed-up, matured Justin Trudeau with an outdoorsy tan and shimmering silver hair. Perhaps this man is his relative? But why would the Canadian Prime Minister’s brother be drinking coffee at a neighborhood bakery in Dallas, Texas? His cobalt blue shirt magnifies the saturated color of his eyes. Sandy said the man was nice looking, but the electricity sparking up and down my spine screams this man is outright dangerous.

  Sandy has never approved of the men in my life. Years ago, she made me swear I would never again get involved with any man until she vetted and approved the candidate. She was living in New York when that conversation occurred, and I agreed, just to end the argument. Then I ignored my promise and carried on inviting chaos into my life. Now she’s moved home and guilted me into making another pact. Our new agreement includes introductions to men and supervised shopping trips as she dislikes my practical clothing choices almost as much as she abhors my taste in men.

  My legs have gelatinized, compromising my ability to exit the car and walk across the parking lot. Surely, she’d understand if I bailed. No, she’d be furious.

  The cell phone’s trill interrupts my thoughts. “You better be in your car and within minutes of the Double S.” The Double S Cafe is the bakery and coffee shop owned by our dear friend Jodi and her husband Doug, and named for a spelling mnemonic. Dessert has a double SS for sweets and sugar, whereas a desert has only one S for sand.

  “I’m in the parking lot gathering the nerve to go in. He’s already here, drinking coffee at an outside table. You understated his extraordinary curb appeal.”

  “Really? Felix is rarely early because he’s super busy. He must be excited to meet you, and why wouldn’t he be? You guys are perfect for each other. I may never get to set you up with anyone else. Now check your teeth for lipstick and get moving. Call me later with all the details. I mean all, and there better be plenty.”

  Holy cow. Sandy thinks this amazing specimen of a man is perfect for me. Though it’s five minutes early for our meeting, I get moving. Damn, there’s lipstick on my teeth. I rub it off. Go time.

  Wearing a turquoise jersey dress that clings in all the right places courtesy of the blush satin push-up bra Sandy cajoled me into purchasing, I walk with purpose. No, I’m actually striding across the parking lot. I’m fifteen feet away when my target looks up with a dreamy smile. The Earth stops spinning as I freeze in my tracks. So this is what the poets call love at first sight. He tilts his head and studies me. As a screeching sound fills the air, he jumps from his chair, sprints over, scoops me from the parking lot with his tan, muscular arms, then places me gently on the sidewalk.

  People around us clap. They don’t see romantic gestures like that every day, at least outside of the movies. He pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit. He’s shaking his head and mumbling “too close.” Maybe he thinks he held me too tight, but the lack of distance felt marvelous. I can’t quite make out what he’s saying because my heart’s thrashing audibly and there’s a swooshing sound in my ears. A server comes over with a glass of ice water for me and asks if I need anything. I order coffee, which amuses my companion.

  “You’re staying for coffee?” he asks.

  “I seriously need coffee. Nice to meet you. I’m Beverly. My friends call me Bev.”

  “Beverly. Bev. I’m Fabio.”

  “Fabio? Like the cover model? Sandy told me your name was Felix.”

  “No. Fabio, because I’m fabulous.” A mischievous mega-watt smile beams from his attractive face.

  “Handsome with a sense of humor.” Holy cow. I can’t believe this delicious man is my date. Sandy’s getting a present, like gallons of Blue Bell ice cream.

  “Modest too.” Still grinning, he flexes his ample muscles. “And Sandy?” Something catches his eye. He stands up and waves at a sexy, twenty-something, platinum blond wearing spandex, at least over the places where her skin is covered. “My friend’s here, but feel free to stay and finish your coffee.”

  The lithe bombshell prances over and gives Fabio an exaggerated kiss on the lips. She points to me and squeaks, “Who’s that?”

  “Willow, meet Beverly. She was nearly run over in the parking lot and I rescued her. She’s recuperating from her near-death experience.”

  “Oh, Fabio, you’re a hero. Too good to be true.” She smooches him again.

  A server arrives with my coffee in a to-go cup. While he takes Willow’s order of an extra-large decaf salted caramel mocha cappuccino with four pumps of caramel sauce, four pumps of caramel syrup, three pumps of mocha, three pumps of toffee nut syrup, double blended with extra whipped cream, I glance at the time and consider my situation.

  On my way to meet a blind date who’s supposed to be perfect for me, I fall in love at first sight with a gorgeous man who I’d presumed was my destiny, but turns out to be the date of a nearly nude girl approximately thirty years younger than I. Furthermore, I confuse this man’s rescuing me from a vehicular death with a movie-worthy romantic gesture, and now I have somehow crashed his date with said girl. The time is 1:58 p.m. and my sexy blush satin push-up bra is trying to strangle me.

  “Excuse me. I’m going to grab some creamer,” I say.

  The condiment bar inside the bakery is out of Fabio and Willow’s line of sight. I’m tugging on the bottom of my bra to unshackle myself when an Adam Sandler-esque looking MAMIL (middle-aged man in Lycra) with mostly white hair approaches me. He’s carrying a bicycle helmet. “Beverly?”

  “Yeah.” He looks familiar.

  “I’m Felix.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re Sandy’s cousin? Beverly?”

  “What?” Yikes. With Fabio on my brain, I’d forgotten about Felix. “Um, nice to meet you. Call me Bev.”

  “Will do. Do you have a table or should I find one?”

  “A table. Sure.”

  “Inside or outside?”

  “Um, it’s hot out there, let’s sit inside.” If he only knew how hot, hot, hot.

  “Okay, there’s a table by the window.”

  The table is the coziest spot in the bakery, right next to the oversized bay window. Fabio and Willow sit on the other side of the glass. “That table needs to be wiped down, let’s sit there.” I point to the small table next to the restroom, the worst seats in the house.

  Felix shrugs. “Okay. Let’s sit.” In twelve steps we’re at the table. He puts the bicycle helmet down on a chair, then pulls out one for me, but it’s the seat facing the main room. I drop myself into another.

  Jodi, my friend, the bakery owner, stops at the table. “Two of my favorite customers. What would you like to o
rder?”

  “What would you like?” he asks me. I hold up my coffee in response. He turns to Jodi. “I’ll have a coffee, black, and how about you surprise us with three of your delicious muffins?”

  Jodi nods at him. “You got it.” When he turns to face me, she gives me a thumb up sign before returning to the counter.

  “Well,” he says, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

  “Well, what?” He’s cute enough, but like most mere mortals, he’s no Fabio.

  “You’re Sandy’s cousin.”

  “Yep.” Straightaway, I sense he’s a nice guy, but there’s no pheromonic attraction between the two of us. How long do I have to stay to appear sociable?

  “I had a crush on your cousin freshman year. When she called, she said, ‘Remember how you wanted to date me in college, but we weren’t a good match? Well, you’re in luck because I’ve saved you for the right woman. Beverly’s perfect for you, and no is not an option.’ She also said I’d be forever in her debt, and she likes people owing her favors.”

  “Sounds like Sandy. Why weren’t you guys a good match?”

  Jodi returns with our order and sets it on the table before topping off my coffee. “You kids enjoy.” She winks at me before she scurries away.

  Felix waits until I resume eye contact, then says, “She never told me, but back in college, women were mysterious to me.”

  “And now?”

  “Still puzzling, but I’m getting better at picking up hints.”

  “Are you?” This could be interesting.

  “For example, you want to be anywhere but here.”

  “Yikes. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was that transparent. It’s been a rough morning. I was nervous about going on a blind date, and then I nearly got hit by a car. When I got rescued, I thought my savior was you, so of course, I fell in love at first sight. And now I’m all discombobulated.”

  “Okay. I didn’t quite follow the story, but maybe I’m getting worse at picking up hints. If this is how you act when you fall in love at first sight, how are you when you dislike someone?”

  A woman’s voice shrills, “I wondered where you’d slunk off to.”

  Willow stands by our table, her hands on her hips. “Don’t get any ideas. Fabio may have saved your life, but he’s with me today. Even if he weren’t, you’re too old for him.”

  “Wasn’t,” Felix says.

  Willow blinks, surprised to find a man sitting next to me. “What?” She smacks her chewing gum.

  “It should be ‘even if he wasn’t,’ not ‘even if he weren’t.’”

  Rolling her eyes, she says, “You the grammar police or something?”

  “Or something. Language arts.”

  “Whatever.” She disappears into the restroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Felix and I look at each other across the table and share a grin.

  “Listen, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was nervous. Look, I’m wearing a dress. That required shaving, and that’s a genuine effort.”

  He laughs. “Sandy said you were a straight shooter.” He slices all three muffins in half and takes a bite of the lemon pastry. “These are great. Try one?”

  Impressions are already made; it no longer matters if I get crumbs all over. “I’m not at all hungry, but I could try a bite.” I nibble on the blueberry muffin. Heavenly. The streusel and the lemon muffins are delightful too.

  Willow exits the restroom, muttering, “Stupid old hag,” as she walks by our table. I stick out my tongue. Felix is unsuccessful in suppressing his smirk.

  He picks up the empty muffin plate. “Since you’re not at all hungry, let’s share a few more.” He signals Doug at the counter, holding the plate in one hand and three fingers up on the other.

  “You teach?” I ask.

  “English and literature, but before any first-date interview questions, I want to hear about your morning, how you came to be, in your words, discombobulated.”

  “I’d rather not.” Felix waits, staring at me with commanding dark eyes that are rather sexy. Maybe meeting him wasn’t a terrible idea. “Okay, here’s the deal. Did you notice that man sitting at the outside table?” He shakes his head, not knowing of whom I’m speaking. “The man about our vintage with the superhero physique.” He turns his head to look, identifies Fabio, and tsks. “Well, I thought he was you, and we locked eyes across the parking lot. He swooped over and grabbed me in those muscular arms. It felt like fate, or at least a cheesy romance movie.”

  “I see. Macho.”

  “Well, no, because that muscle man was merely rescuing a situationally unaware female from getting mowed down by a speeding driver in the parking lot. On top of all that, I inadvertently crashed his date with that insipid sexy thing who called me a stupid old hag.”

  “Ouch.” For a moment neither of us speak, but the next minute we’re both laughing. Jodi brings out another plate, tops off his coffee, and leaves us smiling. Felix catches his breath and says, “Dating is challenging. You have to be fearless to put yourself out there. You’re a brave woman.”

  “Brave. I hadn’t thought of it that way. This is the first blind date I’ve had in ages, and I was nervous.” This is my first date in over eight months and my first blind date in seven years, but he doesn’t need to know the details. I polish off another muffin. “So how do you do it? Do you date often? Do you allow all your old college crushes to fix you up?”

  He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. When the silence is about to get weird, he opens his eyes and leans forward. “Had to collect my thoughts to answer that. I go through phases. Sometimes it’s easier to meet people organically than at other times. Those work out the best, at least in the short term. For a couple of years, I tried online dating with mixed results.”

  “What were the positive results?”

  “I met some women who represented themselves honestly. I ended up dating two of them.”

  “Two women at the same time. You’re a wild man.”

  Felix shakes his head and snickers. “No, two different women at two very different times. I also made a few friends.”

  “Friends.” I smirk. “What everyone hopes for from a date. What were the issues?”

  “Hmm. Not everyone uses a recent photograph or even one of their self. Looks are superficial, so that doesn’t matter much to me. The financial questions bothered me. If someone needs to see my last five years’ tax returns before we meet for coffee, we’re not likely to be a match. And some of the other requests....” Felix stops talking. His face turns flush.

  “Don’t stop now.”

  “The first time a woman sent me, um, unsolicited boudoir photos, I was intrigued, until I realized just how many photos get sent out there. It felt a little meat market-ish to me. And when they requested photos to meet my, um, privates, I was dubious, but the demand to include a ruler for scale seemed intrusive.”

  “Aw. All those women you disappointed. They only wanted a preview.”

  He holds up his hand and shakes his head. “When it’s time, my privates prefer to meet women the old-fashioned way.”

  “Old-fashioned?”

  “The way nature intended, not digitally.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Our conversation has taken an interesting direction. We’re flirting. I need to learn more about his social situation. “What about blind dates?”

  “That’s a decent way to go, but there’s only so much time. I must get five or six calls every month.”

  “Five or six calls every month,” I repeat.

  “At least.” He nods. “You too, I’ll bet.”

  “Um.” Damn. He has better friends than I do. Nobody besides Sandy has even tried to set me up over the last seven years. That’d be half a century in dog years. I reach for another muffin. “Hey, you ate all our muffins.”

  “Me? I’m innocent.” With his fingertips touching, he tucks his hands beneath his chin, tilts his head, and bats his eyelashes.

  He’s ridiculous.
He’s adorable.

  “You’re a goof,” I say.

  “What can I say? I wasn’t expecting to have such an entertaining time. I’d set up an excuse to get out of here, but I don’t want to send you home empty-handed. How about a box of pastries, and we can get–”

  An ivory rectangle appears inches from my face, held by an impossibly enormous hand with buffed fingernails. It’s Fabio. His other hand grips Willow’s shoulder as she glares daggers at me.

  “My card.” Fabio turns to Willow. “You wanted to say something.”

  She jerks her shoulder from his grasp, folds her arms across her chest, and says, “I’m sorry I called you a stupid hag.” She stomps away.

  Willow had called me a stupid old hag, but I can’t say anything because I can scarcely breathe.

  “Beverly, my card. Please call,” Fabio says. My shaking hand retrieves the card. He nods before walking away.

  The room grows hot and stuffy. I’m woozy. Still gripping the card, I close my eyes and rest my head on the table. Why is that man so damn sexy?

  “Bev? Are you all right? You look a little green.”

  Who’s talking? I lift my head and open my eyes. Felix. This is the second time today I’ve forgotten about him. “Uh, yes, I’m fine.”

  He picks up his bicycle helmet. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head, take a sip of coffee, and then turn my attention back to my companion. He’s no longer in smiling-flirty-innuendo mode. His demeanor is more outta here.

  “I’m fine.” With a hand gesture, I shoo him off, which I realize is rude just as my hand shoos. He doesn’t wait for me to tell him twice.

  The card in my hand is made of heavy textured paper with natural fibers. I inhale deeply and the paper releases a woodsy pine scent. Fabio is printed in a bold masculine font with gray metallic ink. There’s a phone number listed beneath, but no last name. Before this moment, in my wildest dreams, I’d never imagined a business card could elicit erotic feelings. Fabio wants me to call him. Somebody pinch me.

  “Did you like him?” Jodi asks as she sits in the seat vacated by Felix.

  “Hmm?”