In Search of a Love Story (Love Story Book One )

by Rachel Schurig

  Bruce gave that same, vague smile. Lonely? I thought to myself. More like socially awkward.

  “So,” Ryan said, edging away. “I’ll just leave the two of you to talk.”

  I glared daggers at him, but he only smiled in return. As he slipped past me he murmured in my ear, “Hidden depths.”

  I sighed and sat down next to Bruce. I may as well give him a few minutes of my time. Then I could make my excuses and go find Ryan to demand that he get me out of here. Or maybe find Elliot again…

  Bruce gave me another of his vague smiles before taking another sip of his coffee. We sat in silence for a minute—me feeling awkward, Bruce smiling and drinking coffee. This is the guy Ryan would pick for me? Seriously?

  Hidden depths, he had said. Maybe he knew more about Bruce than I did. I mean, there must have been some reason that he would think I should give it a try. Ryan was nothing if not picky when it came to men, for either of us. And we had watched an awful lot of movies where the main guy was more than what he appeared. It seemed to be a popular theme. It wouldn’t hurt to at least put some effort in.

  “So, Bruce,” I said, my voice as bright and pleasant as I could make it. “What do you do?”

  “I’m working on my novel,” he said seriously, the vague smile disappearing at once.

  Hmm, a creative type. Could be promising.

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s about the dark, unspoken truths of the average American life journey,” he said, with an entirely straight face. “All the nightmarish monstrosities that exist just below the surface in every man’s soul.”

  I stared at him. Was this guy serious?

  “Wow,” I finally said. “That sounds…intense.”

  “I’m a very intense person,” he said, his flat voice the farthest thing from intense I could imagine.

  “Wow,” I said again.

  “I could send you some chapters, if you like,” he said.

  “Um…sure. That would be great.” I had a horrible feeling that I might burst out laughing. I made myself take deep breaths.

  “Ryan tells me you’re a physical therapist?” Bruce asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I work at a small outpatient facility in Royal Oak.”

  “And do you enjoy that job?”

  “I do,” I said. “I like helping people and trying to find the solution to their physical problem.”

  Bruce nodded sagely. “Ryan was right. We do have a lot in common.”

  “Um…”

  “You serve people in their physical state, helping to heal the body. I work to help heal the soul. Through my words.”

  “Oh, my,” I whispered, again feeling like I might burst into laughter. I wondered what Elliot would think of this guy, and the thought made me almost lose it. I hid my smile behind my bottle and took a long sip of the beer, trying to compose myself.

  Bruce looked down at his watch. “I need to get going,” he said. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a huge wave of relief. I wouldn’t have to make an excuse after all.

  “Listen, Emily,” he said, turning to me. “I would really enjoy continuing our conversation. I feel like we might have quite a lot to say to each other. Would you like to have dinner this week?”

  I was so shocked, I couldn’t even think of a response. Did he really think the last five minutes had been in any way pleasant? What could we possibly have to say to each other?

  I was about to tell him no, the excuse about being swamped at work already at my lips, but at that moment I looked up and saw Ryan, standing several feet away from us, his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

  Hidden depths, I could practically hear him say. Give it a chance.

  I looked back at Bruce. He was smiling in that vague way again, and his glasses had slipped down his nose a little. He looked cute, in a bemused, dorky sort of way. Maybe we would have a lot to talk about. Maybe I shouldn’t be judging this book by its cover—or his novel by its ridiculously pretentious synopsis.

  What do you have to lose?

  “Okay,” I said, smiling back. “That would be nice.”

  Bruce suggested a restaurant, and we arranged to meet there the following Tuesday. With another slight smile, and a final sip of his coffee, he got up, leaving me alone on the uncomfortable, expensive couch.

  “Well?” Ryan asked, appearing at my side so quickly I was sure he’d been watching the entire exchange.

  “We’re going out this week,” I said, still not quite sure how I felt about this development.

  “Good job!” Ryan said, throwing his arm around me. “I knew you could do it!”

  “How do you know him?” I asked.

  “He’s a friend of Phoenix, that guy I was talking to? He’s supposed to be a totally brilliant writer.”

  “He was telling me about his book,” I said. “I’m not sure it’s really my thing.”

  “Emily, you only read John Grisham novels,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Hardly high-minded literature. This guy is totally smart and creative, a real artist. He could be really good for you.”

  Maybe Ryan had a point. Creative and artistic were not exactly words that anyone would use to describe me. Maybe I could use a little of that in my life.

  And okay, so Bruce had freaked me out a little. His detachment, coupled with his description of his book, had seemed down right creepy to me. But maybe that was just how artists were. I was just a washed up jock—who was I to judge?

  “Maybe he could be good for me,” I said. “Who knows?”

  Chapter Nine

  “Alright, that’s it,” I said the moment I’d walked through the front door.

  Ryan, Ashley, and Chris all looked up from their movie. “I’m done with this whole research project thing.” I pointed at Ashley and Ryan, who were sitting next to each other on the couch. “And I sure as hell am done taking advice from the two of you.”

  “What happened?” Ryan asked, pointing the remote at the television to mute the sound.

  “That was the worst date of my life,” I fumed, throwing my bag down on the ground and flopping into the arm chair. “I mean it. There were no hidden depths. Nothing below that book’s cover. He was actually as boring and lame as he appeared to be!”

  From his spot lounging on the floor, Chris coughed loudly. I glared at him. If he laughed at me now, after the night I’d had, I might actually hit him.

  “Come on,” he said, sitting up and looking at me. “What did you expect? When you met the guy, you thought he was too quiet. You thought he was dull. I think you even used the word ‘creepy’. But you actually went out with him because these two nut-jobs convinced you it would be like some movie? Seriously, Em?”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” I said, putting my head in my hands.

  The night had been just awful. Bruce had spent the entire time talking about his book (groundbreaking), the books being written by members of his critique group (absolute dross unworthy of being discussed alongside his own), and the crap that was being published (evidence of the complete decline of our culture). When he wasn’t talking about his book he was staring off into the distance, a blank expression on his face. He hadn’t asked me about myself once, and the one time I tried to bring up my job he interrupted me to ask what I thought about Faust.

  What a nightmare.

  I groaned into my hands. “It’s all my fault,” I said, my voice muffled. “I never should have gone along with any of this crap. It’s all too ridiculous for words.”

  “Hey!” Ashley said, reaching down to smack the back of Chris’ss head. “That’s totally not fair. I think we’ve given you great advice.”

  I looked up at her, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Since you guys started this whole thing I’ve had zero luck. I’ve had two terrible encounters with the guys you said I should go for. Nothing that you’ve told me is coming true in real life.”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Ryan countered.
“You didn’t really expect to meet ‘the one’ on your first date, did you?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Chris muttered, apparently undeterred by the smack. “Listening to you guys, all she had to do was watch some crappy movies and she’d be swept off her feet by week’s end.”

  “We never said that,” Ashley said. “These things take time. But every date, good or bad, is an experience that can be used to help you along on your quest for true love.”

  “Okay, enough,” I said, standing up. “I’m going to take a bath and try to forget that this night ever happened. When I get done I’m going to come out here and watch the most violent movie I can find.” Ashley started to object, but I raised my hand. “I mean it. I’m taking a break from the gooey love stuff. No argument.”

  “Fine,” Ashley said, settling back on the couch. “A break is fine. But I’m not giving up on this, Emily.”

  “Me either,” Ryan said.

  “Good for the two of you,” I muttered as I left them sitting in the living room.

  * * *

  “Where are you off to?”

  I looked up from my bag, which I had been busily stuffing files into, to see Elliot standing in the doorway to my office.

  “Taking off a little early today,” I told him. “Which means I have to take some work home with me.”

  “That sucks,” he said, wrinkling his nose in sympathy.

  “Oh, well,” I said. “I’d rather go through files in my PJs watching TV than do it sitting here.”

  “Good point,” he said. “So, can I interest you in lunch? There’s a buffet special at that Thai place today. I mean, if you’re leaving early and all.”

  I stopped what I was doing to look at Elliot. He seemed a little on edge today, more tense than usual. Then again, Elliot was usually as laid back as a person could be, so maybe I was reading too much into it. Regardless, I was running late.

  “Sorry,” I told him, picking up my bag and swinging it over my shoulder. “I’m ducking out early ’cause I have plans.”

  His face seemed to tighten, and I wondered if there really was something the matter.

  “Let me guess, you hit it off with the hidden depths guy?”

  “Oh God, no,” I said, effecting a mock shudder. “He was absolutely terrible. Nothing hidden about him whatsoever. No, I’m meeting up with some old friends from college downtown.”

  “That sounds nice.” His voice was lighter now, but it still seemed like something was bothering him. I promised myself I would ask him about it the next time we had lunch together.

  “I really should go,” I said, looking at my watch. “I’ll pick up the coffee tomorrow, okay?”

  I patted his shoulder as I left the room, shouting out a goodbye to Michael and Sarah. Once I was in the car, I pulled out my GPS and typed in the address of the restaurant. I hated to admit it to anyone, but I found driving in and around Detroit incredibly confusing. There were so many one-way streets and missing road signs. Then there were all the freeways that were called different names in different parts of the area—like, half the time people called the M10 the Lodge, and the M8 the Davison. I could never figure out why. I once spent twenty minutes looking for the Jeffries, only to find that I was already on it but it was really called I-96.

  I had lived in the metro area for three years now, but I still got lost anytime I ventured too far from Royal Oak. I tried to hide this from my friends—Ryan would just laugh and tell me to head back up to the farm.

  My GPS got me to the restaurant in one piece, and only five minutes late. I had been looking forward to this lunch for a long time. It wasn’t everyday I got to see my old track friends from college, especially now that more and more of them were settling down to get married or moving away from Michigan.

  “Emily!”

  I smiled as I entered the restaurant. Several of the girls were waving and calling my name from their table near the window.

  “Hi!” I said, setting my purse on the table so I could hug my friends properly. “It’s so good to see you!”

  “You look great!” Marybeth said, once I had settled into my chair. “You’re still in such great shape.”

  “Oh God,” I said, waving my hands dismissively. “I haven’t run a race in ages. I would get destroyed if I tried to actually compete with someone.”

  “At least you don’t have fifteen pounds of baby weight to get off,” she muttered, rubbing at her stomach. “Collin is almost a year old. I can’t believe I’m still carrying this around.”

  “Join the club,” Ginny said drily. “Danny is three, and I’m still not down to my pre-baby weight.”

  Ginny had been a year ahead of me at school. She was that gorgeous, cool girl that Marybeth, Kaitlin, and I had looked up to when she was a senior. Not too long after leaving school she had gotten pregnant—which I bet was totally traumatic for her, because she was single and unemployed at the time. But she was married now and seemed really happy—and was clearly insane, as she looked every bit as thin and gorgeous as she had running track back in college.

  “How’s Danny?” I asked. “I had hoped you might bring him along.”

  “He’s with his auntie Jen today,” Ginny said.

  “You’re so lucky to have help,” a girl named Bonnie said. “All of my family lives on the other side of the state. I feel like I’m going crazy with twins around the house.”

  I looked around at the group of girls as they continued to talk about babies, and it suddenly struck me that I was in the minority here. Four of the girls were married now, three of them with children, and another two were newly engaged. Somehow, without me noticing it, all of my old friends had settled down, started families of their own. As the conversation swung around to the two upcoming weddings, I felt a lump form in my throat.

  “You okay, Em?” Kaitlin said, close to my ear so no one else would hear. “You seem pretty quiet.”

  I turned to smile at her, but found my mouth didn’t want to work. All of a sudden, I felt like I might burst into tears.

  “What’s wrong?” she said, more loudly. Most of the other girls broke off their respective conversations to look at me, and I felt my face redden.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked, reaching for my water glass to keep from crying. “I’ve just had a rough few weeks. I…I broke up with my boyfriend, and it’s been kind of hard.”

  There was a general outcry of sympathy. Kaitlin put her arm around me, and several of the other girls patted my arm.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Marybeth asked.

  “No, it’s okay,” I said. “I’m sorry to get all upset, I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “It’s fine to get upset,” Ginny said, smiling at me from across the table. “Break-ups suck. Especially when you have to listen to a bunch of girls gabbing on and on about their husbands.” She leaned across the table at me and winked. “I promise it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And I can tell you from experience that things tend to fall into place precisely when you stop worrying about it.”

  I smiled back. I knew Ginny had been through a lot to get to where she was, happy now with her husband and baby. But in that moment I felt so envious of her it made my stomach hurt. No matter what I had said to Ashley and Ryan about being over the romance scene, I wanted what these girls had. Love. A family.

  Ginny steered the conversation to safer waters, and before long I was joining in as they reminisced about our days at State. The meal passed pretty pleasantly after that, but at the back of my mind, I still felt disconcerted. What was wrong with me?

  I left the restaurant after lunch feeling more confused then ever. Listening to Ginny talk about her family had made me feel an almost overwhelming desire to find someone I could love. I had never quite realized how strongly I felt, but now at least my reaction to Ashley’s romance theory made more sense. When she had told me I was screwing up my chances by being clueless, I felt something akin to panic. It was that fear that I’d be alone that
made me go along with their romance project.

  But now I was pretty sure that the whole thing had been a waste of time. I knew Ryan and Ashley had my best interests at heart, but I also knew they both had a flair for the dramatic. Ryan had been searching for his dream man since the day I met him—doing lots of his own research in dating and hooking up as he went. Despite his flirtatiousness—and okay, downright promiscuous reputation, I knew that at heart he was a big old softie.

  Then there was Ashley. She was a daydreamer, always had been. She was the poster child for the phrase Hopeless Romantic. I thought back to all the serious relationships she’d had since we met in college. Most of them were promptly blown right out of proportion. How many times had she assured me that whatever new guy she was dating was different? How many times had she told me, in all seriousness, that she was absolutely positive that this one was really the one?

  Yet these were the people that I had allowed to get me all confused and worked up. I mean, I loved them, don’t get me wrong. They were some of the best friends I had ever had in my life. But taking advice from them had been seriously, seriously stupid.

  I had parked a few blocks down from the restaurant, and as I began to walk in the direction of my car, a steady rain began to fall. “Great,” I muttered, pulling my coat up over my head. As I approached the last intersection between me and the safety of my dry car, my phone beeped in my pocket. I glanced down at the display to see a text from Brooke flashing back at me. I decided it could wait until I was out of the rain.

  Brooke, I thought, shaking my head as I stepped out into the street. What would Brooke say if she knew how silly I had been? She would probably laugh her head off. Or, more likely, be seriously disappointed in me. This was just not the way either of us had ever—

  Suddenly, I heard a loud horn blow about ten feet away. I looked up from under my jacket, startled, to see a huge truck barreling toward me. Before I could even react, two hands had grasped my shoulders and pulled me back, roughly, toward the curb. The momentum of the pull propelled me off my feet, and I felt my back hit a broad body behind me. As I slammed into him, I felt him lose his balance too, and soon we were both stumbling down to the pavement, right at the edge of the road.