by Liz Fox
“Hey, now. Don’t shoot me. I’m just making an observation. Besides, I play for the other team.” The grin on his face indicates he’s not as scared as his words portray. “My name is Jesse, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
I shake his hand before I even realize what I’m doing. He’s a charming SOB, that’s for sure.
“What are you doing here, Jesse?” I growl, impatient with the entire evening.
“I like to come to the OC to soak in the satisfaction of knowing people love my work.”
“Your work?” I ask, curious.
“This floor is one hundred percent my design. Isn’t it fabulous?” He stirs his drink and takes a sip, still staring at Sara and her date with a heated gaze. “Though I have to say, tonight, this room is absolutely my favorite.”
I have to agree with him there. Watching Sara is like staring into a fire. The anger I feel at seeing Sara dancing with someone else doesn’t help. It just seems to pour fuel on the newly burning fire inside me.
“Well, I’m off to make my rounds through the rest of the club. Don’t let anything stop you from getting what you want.” Jesse sets his empty glass on the bar and gives a flirty wave over his shoulder as he walks away.
My gaze goes back to the couple on the dance floor. Sara looks like she’s having fun. There’s a freedom to her movement and a smile on her face that I haven’t seen in a long time. I wonder what’s different about tonight. What does he offer her that she can’t get from me?
An hour later, Sara and her date leave the club. A valet brings his car around and I make sure to follow. I tell myself I’m just following to make sure she gets home okay. And that’s partly true. If I feel like a jealous lover stalking his girlfriend, well, I don’t have that kind of claim on her. And that’s my bad. Or maybe it’s fine. I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now.
I just hope I get my head on straight before our weekly pizza dinner.
Chapter 3
Sara
“Hi, Joe! Is Zach here yet?” I greet the current owner of Joe’s Pizza Place. I think his name might be Wesley. He’s been here for at least five years, but for a while, it changed hands every six months or so. Regulars got tired of learning new names each time. That’s why, now, regardless of the owner’s actual name, everyone always calls him Joe. Nobody wants to go to Wesley’s Pizza Place.
“Not yet. Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring out your regular.”
Zach and I have been coming to Joe’s Pizza Place every week for about eleven years, almost as long as we’ve known each other. It’s located in a grubby strip mall. The interior decor hasn’t been redone since the 90s, and the pizza is just slightly better than mediocre. But I still love coming here. It’s tradition. Plus, they have cheap beer on tap, and Joe knows what I like.
A minute after I sit in our regular booth, Joe brings out a small, plastic pitcher of beer and two plastic cups. I fill my cup and take a sip, the familiar routine helping me calm down before Zach shows up.
This is the first time since we’ve been coming here that I’m not quite sure how to act around Zach. We’ve texted a few times this week, but nothing serious. But seeing him with his date at the fair, and then again while I was out with Lincoln. We’ve never been in this situation before, and I’m a bit nervous about how things will pan out tonight.
On the one hand, I feel great about finally going on a date with such a catch. Lincoln is attractive, has his own business, and doesn’t live with his mom. In fact, he acted like a perfect gentleman throughout our entire date: opening doors, paying for everything, and making sure I had a good time.
On the other hand, Lincoln still isn’t Zach. My best friend. The one who, when I accidentally left my wallet at home at seventeen, stayed with me to wash dishes in the back of this very restaurant for two hours. The one who encouraged me to go for a degree in Library Science if that’s what I really wanted to do. The one who arranges his schedule every Friday evening to make sure that we keep the tradition of pizza at Joe’s.
Sighing, I admit it to myself, just for a moment. I love him. Really, love him. And I’ve loved him for years.
But I’m tired of waiting. Sure, I dated a guy or two in college. At that point, all they did was convince me that Zach is the one for me.
Things are different now. I’ve been single for years, not dating. Maybe part of me hoped that when Zach finally made it big, he’d see who had supported him all these years. Instead, he showed up to the fair with some other girl.
That’s why, even if it hurts, I’m done. It’s time to move on.
I’m still waiting for Zach to arrive when my phone buzzes in my purse.
Violet: I heard you had a date after the community fair. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.
Sara: Who did you hear that from?
Violet: Remember Hope’s guy works with Maximillian at the Hawthorne Group? Well, Max’s wife knows Maggie, she told Hope she saw you there with someone, and Hope mentioned it to me.
I laugh a little and roll my eyes. When I don’t respond, another text comes in.
Violet: So… did Zach take you?
Sara: No
Violet: No?
Sara: I met someone at the fair.
Violet: Details. Now.
The bells over the door chime and Zach walks in wearing a gray t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans. He doesn’t often dress casually anymore. He says it’s not good for business. He’s the expert, so I guess I believe him. Personally, I doubt the straight women and gay men would care what he wore. I certainly don’t. Especially with his wide shoulders straining the seams of his shirt, the stubble on his face framing a set of extremely kissable lips, and his blue-gray eyes that swallow me like a storm.
Violet: Wait. Isn’t it time for your weekly pizza with Zach?
Sara: He just walked in. Gotta go.
Violet: Gimme the scoop later.
Zach slips into the booth. Oddly, this time, he sits next to me instead of across from me like he usually does. I’m overly aware of the place where our legs touch under the table. Zach seems oblivious as he pours his cup of beer.
“Hey, babe. Is Joe bringing our regular order?”
Babe? That’s new. “Yep. The pizza will probably be here in five minutes.”
“Why don’t we order a couple bottles of pale ale today?”
“Um, okay?”
“You deserve something nice. To celebrate how well the fair went.”
“Thanks, I guess.” I’m not sure how to respond to this change in his attitude. “It did go well. Maggie is already planning for next year.”
Zach goes to the bar, presumably to order the beer. Joe looks surprised at the change in our routine, too. As Zach walks back with the chilled bottles, he’s wearing a smile I’ve seen before, but never directed at me. It’s his “charm the ladies” smile. He uses it because it works. It’s part of how he got so successful, so fast.
He sits, and I take the offered bottle. Joe follows right behind him and puts our pizza on the table. We both take a slice, humming with appreciation.
We’re both working on our second slice when he restarts the conversation. He’s still got his public relations persona on when he asks, “How was the rest of your date at the OC, anyway?”
“It was really nice,” I reply honestly. “Lincoln is a great guy. Um, how was your date?”
“My date?” He looks shocked, like he barely remembers he even had a date. Or that he hadn’t realized I’d seen him with someone.
“Yes, the woman you brought to the fair. She was your date, right?”
Zach takes a long sip of his beer. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was trying to delay answering my question. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh, her. I remember.” Shrugging, he continues, “She’s just a girl I met. It seemed like a thing at the time, but it was never meant to be a thing thing.”
What did he even just say? Since I’ve known Zach, he’s never spoken so vaguely. Maybe things with he
r are serious, and he wants to keep it private. Or maybe he’s being extra nice because he knows if he’s going to be dating, he’ll need to cut down on our friend time.
Whatever his problem is, I feel like I’m already losing him. That hurts more than anything. Our easy camaraderie is completely absent from this dinner, and I can’t help but wonder if this is the beginning of the end of our friendship.
One thing I know for sure, I don’t want to go down with the ship. My date with Lincoln may not have had all the sparkles that I have with Zach, but I can’t deny how nice it felt to be appreciated. I felt sexy and wanted. That’s a feeling I definitely want more of in my life.
“Well, I hope she’s everything you ever wanted.” I force the words out of mouth. Nineteen percent of me even means them. I love him. I want him to be happy. But I don’t want to dwell on it, so I blurt out, “Lincoln and I have been texting. I think he’s going to ask me out again.”
Zach looks like he had a piece of pineapple on his pizza; his face is scrunched up with displeasure. He finishes his bite, swallowing and then clearing his throat. “We’ll still have our weekly dinners here, right?”
“Of course we’ll have dinner. We’re still friends, right?” A bittersweet sadness rings in my voice. But underneath that, a small sense of relief flows through me. Zach obviously doesn’t know about my feelings for him.
Maybe we can still keep this friendship, even while I try to find someone who wants something more. It might not be with Lincoln, but I’m sure I’ll meet someone. I deserve to be loved, with or without Zach.
Chapter 4
Zach
“Oh, hi Zach.” Sara’s coworker, Hope, greets me as I enter the library. “This is your third visit this week, right?”
“Um, yes. I guess it is.” I find myself scratching the back of my neck. “Is Sara around?”
“She’s in the break room taking her lunch break. Go on back.” Hope watches with a smirk as I pass around the front counter on the way to the back.
“Thanks, Hope.” I wave awkwardly, then hurry to the break room, away from her knowing gaze.
Stopping in the doorway, I watch Sara as she absentmindedly takes a bit of sandwich and turns the page of her book. That’s my girl. Always reading. It seems like I have a million memories of us hanging out together in the family room of her house. She’d curl up in the corner of the sofa with a book while I’d play video games. I never appreciated the ease of our relationship. It just always seemed right. I took it for granted that she’d always be there when I needed her.
While I watch, her phone dings. A small smile lights her face as she reads the text. Damn it. I bet it’s her date from last week. Time to up my game.
“Hey, Sara.”
She jumps in her seat, obviously surprised. “Hi Zach.” She quickly grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”
She’s right. The last few years, maybe even longer, the only time we’d see each other was at our Friday night pizza dinners. Now, I’m showing up every day, and my excuses are getting lamer and lamer.
“I wanted to come by and say hi. Plus, I brought you a donut.” I hold up the white paper bag.
“Thank you?” Sara has a quizzical smile on her face, like she’s wondering what the heck is going on with me.
“What are you up to this week?” Making myself at home, I sit at the table with her.
“Chaz and Jasper have their annual checkups, so I have an appointment with the vet tomorrow.”
“Want some help with that?” I jump on the opportunity.
“Um, no.” Her shoulders go back just before she asks me, “Zach, what’s going on? Why are you suddenly showing up to my work every day?”
Shrugging, I try to explain something even I’m not completely sure about. “I just feel like we’ve been drifting apart. Our friendship is important to me, and I don’t want to lose it.”
“Zach, of course we’ll always be friends.” Sara reaches over and pats my forearm. It seems like she’s trying to comfort me, but it feels a little fake. I need to change the narrative. I’m failing at my own PR, and I’m supposedly the best in the business.
“Hey, did you hear Joe’s Pizza is in danger of going out of business at the end of the month?” I ask.
“What? No! That’s terrible.” Sara straightens, covering her mouth with the shock.
“Yeah, I saw it online this morning.”
“Oh my.” She stares at the table for a minute, lost in thought. When she finally speaks, she sounds wistful and a little sad. “I guess that’s what happens. Things change. Nothing is certain. You just have to do your best, regardless.”
No. Absolutely not. I can read the subtext of what she’s saying. It’s at that moment, as she traces a finger over the grains of the wood table, that I make a decision. The same way I made a decision to earn an invitation to the Oakwood Club before I hit thirty. There’s no way I’m letting Sara out of my life.
Like a man on a mission, nothing can deter me from my goal. Her sexy ass better watch out, because now that I realized she’s mine—that on some level she’s always been mine—I’m never letting her go.
◆◆◆
It’s been two days since I’ve seen Sara. I needed some time to come up with a better game plan. Clearly, showing up at her work everyday just to say hi isn’t enough.
The first thing I did was research the competition. One of the fundamentals of good public relations is knowing the strengths and weaknesses of the competitors. Fortunately, I have some contacts from my business. They do background checks and detailed profiles of people. I give them a name and a phone number, and twenty four hours later, I have all the dirt.
Unfortunately, Lincoln is squeaky clean. He owns a successful software company, pays the mortgage on his parents’ home, and he avoids smoking and drugs. He isn’t a serial dater. In fact, it looks like he’s somewhat of a workaholic. Not something I can throw too many stones at. All in all, he’s a good guy. Dammit.
The one bright spot is the regular Friday pizza dinner at Joe’s. He’s still open, at least for this week. I’m looking forward to making a better case for myself tonight.
I’m standing in front of my closet, debating which shirt to wear for the day, when my phone notifies me that I got a text from Sara.
Sara: Sorry about the late notice. I’m not going to make it tonight. Something came up.
I bet something came up. Lincoln-motherfucking-Davis came up. Damn him for moving in on my girl. Damn her for saying yes. And damn myself for being oblivious to the beauty in front of me for so long.
I’m most angry with myself. It’s nothing more than I deserve. But I’m not giving up. Oh no. Mark my words, Sara will know she belongs with me. I just have to get more creative with my strategies.
Chapter 5
Sara
Checking the mirror one last time before my date with Lincoln, I’m happy to say I look good. The rich, teal velvet pulls in at my waist with a bow and brings out the green in my hazel eyes. After our last date, we both realized the spark wasn’t there. But apparently, we both had a good time, because he wants to be friends. We’ve been texting each other for a few days. When he invited me to a casual barbeque with his sister and her family, I couldn’t refuse.
My cats, Chaz and Jasper, lie next to each other on the sofa, staring at me. Chaz is a tuxedo cat with an attitude and Jasper is my sweet grey tabby who cuddles with me every night.
“What are you staring at?”
Jasper blinks at me. They don’t often see me dressing up.
“We’re just friends.”
Chaz rolls onto his back and stares at me upside down, and Jasper licks his paw.
“You’re right. I did dress up a little.” Reaching down, I scratch under both their necks. “But even though there’s nothing romantic between us, it’s still nice to feel cute like this.”
When they both start purring, I take that as a sign of approval.
“Okay, you
two. It’s time for me to leave. I’ll see you when I get home.”
I lock the door behind me and hop into my car. I’m halfway to Lincoln’s house when my phone rings. After I answer the call with bluetooth, Zach’s voice fills the car.
“Sara, I need your help.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. In twelve years of friendship, Zach has rarely, if ever, needed my help. “I’m busy right now. Can it wait?”
“My place is flooded. If I don’t get the water out right now, it’ll ruin the carpet, the walls, and who knows what else.”
“How in the world did your house flood?”
“I don’t know! I think one of the sprinkler lines blew or something.” Zach starts to sound frantic. “It can’t wait. Are you going to help me or not? I thought we were best friends.”
Ugh. The best friend card. We don’t use it often. Only for serious emergencies. Like the time I ripped my shorts hopping over the school fence. Or the time he forgot to get his mom something for Mother’s Day.
Sighing, I turn on the next street, changing directions and heading to Zach’s place. My gym bag is in the back. I’ll have to change when I get there, because no way am I cleaning up flood water in this dress.
“Okay, okay,” I capitulate. “I’m on my way. See you in ten.”
Sighing, I pull over for a minute so I can call Lincoln about the change in plans.
“Hey Sara.”
“Hi Lincoln.” I close my eyes, hating to cancel on him at the last minute like this. He’s such a nice guy. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going to make it tonight.”
“Really? But you’re supposed to be here in fifteen minutes.”
“I know. I feel terrible. But a friend of mine had an emergency come up and I have to help him out.”
“Don’t worry about it then. It’s an emergency. Those take precedence over barbecue.” This is what I’m talking about—a totally decent human being.
“Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you.” We exchange goodbyes and I pull back onto the road.
