by Melinda Metz
But it felt like all the lights were on in David’s brain. He couldn’t stop thinking. It was interesting—weird, freaky, uncanny? —how MacGyver had given something of Zachary’s to Addison and vice versa. What were the odds? There were twenty-three houses in Storybook Court.
Jamie had looked damn good in that T-shirt. The thought just popped into his head. He pushed it away.
Why had Mac taken so many of his things? From what David could tell by what had been left by the fountain, the cat had stolen more from him than anyone else.
Jamie had looked damn good in that T-shirt.
He’d managed to stop thinking about it for about fifteen seconds. That shirt had been pretty funny. The Jules and Vinnie Minions holding bananas instead of guns. “Ba-nah-na,” he said aloud, in a decent Minion impression. He’d seen all the movies with Minions in them way too many times, because Lucy and Adam’s youngest, Maya, who was David’s goddaughter, loved them. At least she had decent taste in movies. She’d absolutely refused to watch more than the first half hour of Norm of the North.
Jamie had looked damn good in that T-shirt.
Clearly, he had no control over his own brain. He bet Jamie’d look damn good in those tiny alien panties, too. His mind started flashing him the visuals, and he groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. He was never going to fall asleep now.
* * *
The next afternoon, Jamie couldn’t sit still. She picked up her notebook. She had a few things to add to her List of Likes, including creating a fake scar, which she’d done in her class that morning, and Almighty Opp, although she was still trying to figure out exactly how to describe what she’d seen. Puppet therapy? Puppet enlightenment? The two guys who put on the spectacle, Jeffrey and Kranko, seemed to want to assist people in connecting, and to create . . . jubilation. Jubilation was the only word that came close. How cool would it be to do something like that? Not creating a street theater art piece—although she hadn’t tried that yet, so maybe she shouldn’t be counting it out. But something where the purpose was connecting people and making them happy?
She tossed the notebook aside. She had lots of thoughts, but not the patience to write them down. Instead, she hurried into the screened porch and checked her repair job again. Mac really couldn’t have gotten out that way.
She wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, shut it, then opened it again, and took out a pickle and ate it, even though she wasn’t really hungry. Then she had a cracker to take away the pickle-y taste, then she decided she had to brush her teeth.
As she brushed, she studied herself in the mirror. Should she change? She had on a basic pink V-neck T-shirt and khakis. Nothing special. Wait. Why was she even thinking about changing? Why did it matter if her clothes weren’t anything special? Her neighbor was coming over to help her figure out how her cat was escaping. She looked fine. She was wearing a bra. She was presentable. That was all that mattered.
Still, she went into the bedroom, opened the closet door, and flicked a few hangers, then she shut the door firmly. She was not changing. See, this was one of the reasons The Year of Me shouldn’t include men. An attractive guy was coming over to do her a favor, all friendly and neighborly and not date-y, and she couldn’t focus on anything important, like her list.
She scooped up Mac from the spot of sunlight where he was snoozing and cuddled him. He endured it for about two seconds, then squirmed away. Mac liked to be petted and fussed over—but only when he was in the mood. Or if he was feeling sorry for her.
Jamie picked up her cell and looked up the gingham dog and calico cat poem. It was called “The Duel.” She’d forgotten that. She wondered if David knew the title. And she was doing it again. Not thinking about clothes, but still thinking about him. This was ridiculous.
She took a deep breath and walked outside. She’d start looking for Mac’s escape route by herself. It had been nice, very nice, of David to offer, but she could do it on her own. But before she’d even started her inspection, Marie appeared on her porch. “Check your e-mail,” she told Jamie.
“Why?” Jamie asked. She didn’t like the way Marie was looking at her. There was an eager gleam in her eye.
“Because Fred Hernandez, that’s our dentist, just e-mailed me and said he’d just e-mailed you,” Marie said.
Jamie closed her eyes, counted to three, then opened them. “Marie, please don’t give my e-mail address to anyone without checking with me. I told you, I told you very clearly, that I’m not interested in meeting your dentist or anyone else. Please e-mail him back and tell him that you were wrong.”
“It’s okay to tell her, Jam.”
Jamie looked over her shoulder and saw David coming toward her. He gave her a quick wink, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her up against him. “Jamie and I have gone out a couple times. We didn’t want to say anything to people in the Court in case it didn’t work out. But I don’t think we have to worry about that anymore.”
Marie narrowed her eyes at them. “You went out a couple of times,” she repeated. “Where did you go?” She sounded a little like Hud Martin.
“Universal Studios. I know it’s completely touristy, but Jamie just moved here. Plus she had to see the Bates Motel. She’s a Hitchcock fan,” David said.
“Make that a fanatic. Love him,” Jamie added quickly, feeling a little dazed. She didn’t want to go out with Marie’s dentist, but she wasn’t sure she liked David swooping in and taking charge. “We also went for drinks at this place a few blocks from here. What was it called?” His body heat was soaking into her shoulders and side, distracting her.
“The Thirsty Goat,” David said. “Jamie, if you can believe it, had a Skittles Bomb. She said it reminded her of the vodka-infused gummy bears she used to sneak in her college dorm room.”
“Busted,” Jamie said.
Marie tilted her head and studied them a moment longer, then nodded. “I’ll tell Fred that you’ve started seeing someone,” she told Jamie. “But if it doesn’t work out with you two, you’re going out with him. You’re thirty-four. You have to think about that.” She returned to the house.
Jamie started to move away. “Stay close for a minute,” David said. “Marie sees everything.”
“True.” Jamie turned a little so she could look at him. “Did you call me Jam before?”
“I thought I’d be more convincing. I figured if we were going out, I’d have a cute nickname for you,” David said. “I didn’t have much time to think. Jam is sweet. And it starts with the first letters of your name. Seemed okay.”
A smile tugged at Jamie’s lips, but she forced herself to say, “I didn’t really need rescuing.”
David winced. “That was presumptuous of me. I guess it’s because I’ve been in the same position, with my friends pushing me to go out. I thought I’d give you an assist, that’s all.”
“You did help me out,” Jamie admitted. “Lucky we ran into each other at that bar. That gave us lots of good details. I’m not sure we’d have convinced her without them, even though the Hitchcock was a nice touch. If she’d quizzed me about his movies, I would have been able to answer.” She looked up at him and smiled, in case Marie was still keeping an eye on them, then said, “Think we can move on to figuring out how Mac’s getting out now?”
David nodded, kissed her temple, then slowly slid his arm away. Even though he was no longer touching her, Jamie felt like she could still feel his warmth soaking into her body. “Hey, you didn’t bring Diogee.” She wanted to say something, and that was the first thing she thought of.
“I decided to let him go for a walk with Zachary,” David said.
“Okay, but I meant it when I said he could come,” Jamie answered. “I was going to start looking for the escape route by walking around the house.”
“Sounds good.” They started walking. “Maybe I’ll tell Adam and Lucy, that’s my oldest friend and his wife, we’re going out, if it’s okay with you. Every time I see them, they’re try
ing to show me new profiles on counterpart.com. They’re relentless. And you know how my first two encounters went.”
Jamie shrugged. “Why not? You might as well benefit from the lie, too.”
“I got some, actually a lot, of texts today from one of the Counterpart women Lucy picked for me,” David said. “I sent her one text, and she sent me like ten, with no response from me in between. I wasn’t ignoring her. It’s just that I was at work.”
“Ten is a lot, when you’re not having any back-and-forth,” Jamie said.
“Yeah. It’s not that there was anything wrong with what she said in any of them. But the number kind of freaked me out. I’m thinking I don’t want to meet her now.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Jamie said. “But maybe she just thinks you sound great and is excited to get to know you.” She wanted to be fair to this unknown woman. It wasn’t like she and David were really going out. There was no reason for her to be feeling little pricks of jealousy.
“Maybe,” David agreed.
“All these windows look okay to me. You?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah, I’m not seeing anything, either. Although . . . See those California lilac bushes?” David gestured to the shrub that grew under her bedroom window. “The tops are a little bent, like something fell on them. Or like if a cat jumped down from the roof.”
“But we’re left with the same problem. How would he get outside to get to the roof?” Jamie asked.
They made a complete circuit of the house without seeing anything else that suggested a way Mac was escaping. “Let’s check from the inside,” Jamie suggested.
They started with the living room. Mac decided to be sociable and followed them as they searched, purring with contentment.
David’s cell buzzed. “Sorry. I should check it. I fill in for the bakery manager when he’s out of town—like now.” He flipped open his phone, then shut it a moment later.
“Everything okay?” Jamie asked.
“It was her. MsRight347. She said she just realized my profile didn’t say whether I wanted kids or not and she was curious if I did.”
“Oh. Well, I guess not wanting kids is a deal breaker,” Jamie said, still wanting to keep an open mind about the woman, even though she sort of disliked her. No, disliked was too strong. But the woman had to be boring. MsRigh347? Couldn’t she come up with anything more interesting than that?
Jamie didn’t share her screen name analysis. Instead she asked, “Is it typical to want to get all that addressed right up front? I’ve never done online dating. In Avella you pretty much know everyone around. Or it feels like it.” They continued to search the house as they talked.
“I don’t know. Not with the first two. It would have been nice if the pregnant one had asked how I felt about having kids, but otherwise—what’s wrong with waiting until you know you’re getting at least somewhat serious before you start talking about what kind of family you want?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Jamie told him. “It’s just that sperm doesn’t have a sell-by date. I guess if you know you absolutely want kids, you might not want to even go out with someone who definitely doesn’t. Seems like she would have put it in her profile, though.” There. That was very fair. And it was true that women had to think about things that men didn’t.
“Maybe she did. I read it pretty fast,” David admitted. “I messaged her, because if I didn’t I’d still be listening to Adam and Lucy try to choose someone for me, and I couldn’t take it. So it’s really okay that I tell them we’re going out?”
Jamie forced herself to continue being fair. “It’s fine. But if you change your mind and want them to keep helping you look at profiles, just tell them we’re not seeing each other anymore. I mean, you signed up. You must want to meet someone.”
“I did. I was recently really gut-punched by the idea of spending the rest of my life alone,” David admitted. “But the online thing isn’t me. I want to just meet someone when I meet someone. If you end up meeting someone, just tell me and we can fake break up.”
“The whole reason I want to fake date is so I won’t have to meet someone,” Jamie reminded him. “I’m not seeing any place Mac could have gotten out.”
“Me either,” David answered. “Maybe you should read the e-mail from Marie’s dentist, just to be sure he’s not actually someone you think you want to meet.”
Jamie studied his face. Had he already changed his mind? Was he trying to get out of pretending to be going out with her? “Fine. Let me look.” She took out her phone, opened her e-mail, and found one that had to be from the dentist. “The subject line is ‘My Needs.’ Sounds promising, no?”
David’s cell buzzed. He checked it. “Another message from MsRight347. She wants to know if I do want kids, how many I want and if I have a preference about boys or girls.”
“I can top that. The dentist’s e-mail? It’s a list of qualities the women he goes out with has to have. Must have a job. Must have a car.”
“He’s trying to weed out sugar-baby types,” David said. “That’s not so horrible.”
Jamie held up one finger. “Shorter than five-foot-seven. Hair to mid-back, although he says he knows mine is shorter but we can ‘fix that’.” She shut the cell. “I’ve read enough. I haven’t even met him and he’s already deciding there are things about me that need to be fixed.”
David’s cell buzzed again. “Oh, come on.” He checked it. “She wants to know how I feel about the name Charlotte for a girl, possibly with the nickname Charley, and Ethan for a boy.” He looked at Jamie. “Still think she’s asking reasonable questions?”
“Uh, have to say no.” Jamie felt a little jolt of pleasure that now David would never agree to go out with the woman. She tried to shove the feeling away. It was none of her business. Except they were becoming friends, and friends didn’t let friends date crazies.
“I’m going to tell her I just started to date a neighbor, and I want to see how that goes.” He smiled at her. “You’re coming in handy.”
Jamie smiled back. “So are you. The dentist should be grateful. I probably would have stabbed him through the heart with my fork if we attempted to meet for dinner.”
“You know, since we’re pretending to be dating, we should probably actually go somewhere together,” David said. “Because Marie sees all. And my friends will want details.”
“I’m up for going somewhere. Where?”
“I know you like old movies, but do you like really old movies?” David asked. “Because if you do, I know the perfect place. It’s one of my favorites.”
Jamie’s pulse sped up, like he was asking her out for real. “If it’s one of your favorites, I want to see it.”
“It’s the Silent Movie Theatre. They only have shows on Fridays and Saturdays. Does Friday work for you?”
“Sure,” Jamie answered. “I love old movies, but I’ve never seen a silent one, well, just a few little bits on TV, and I’m on a mission to try new things. It sounds perfect.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven. Let me give you my number, in case you want to send me any psycho texts before then,” David said.
Jamie handed him her cell. “Put it in. If I’m your fake girlfriend, I should definitely have your number.”
* * *
Mac stretched, lazy and content that night. Jamie and the man, David, had spent more time together, and they’d both smelled happy. And David hadn’t brought the bonehead this time. The other night, Mac had to use all his self-control to keep the claws in when the dog was in his house. He hadn’t wanted to disturb Jamie and David by making the bonehead cry.
He wouldn’t mind staying in tonight, but he’d planned to continue working on the not-quite-adult ones before he’d gotten caught yesterday. Caught! He still couldn’t believe a human had been fast enough to catch him. At least it got David and Jamie together. It was almost as if he’d planned it.
He also needed to pay a visit to the bonehead. The mutt needed to know that just because
Mac had shown him mercy for a few hours, it didn’t mean Mac was even close to tolerating the dog. If Mac, Diogee, Jamie, and David were going to be together in Mac’s territory, Diogee needed to understand his place in the pack order—the bottom.
CHAPTER 13
“How about this one?” Ruby held out a buttercup-yellow A-line dress. The placket had large scallops and tied at the neck. “Demure, but sexy. Like something Megan Draper would have worn back when she was Don’s secretary.”
“Adorable. But yellow isn’t a great color for me,” Jamie said. “Do you think it’ll seem silly wearing something obviously vintage to the Silent Movie Theatre? I don’t want to look like I’m wearing a costume.”
“You won’t. It’ll be perfect. The crowd at that theater will absolutely appreciate it. There will be other people there in vintage.” Ruby kept flipping through the hangers in the boutique. “Oooh. Look at this one!” She held up a short skater skirt that was covered with hot dogs and hamburgers, like the cover of a fifties diner.
“I think that one’s more you than me,” Jamie said.
“You could be right. I’ll try it on.” Ruby kept searching the rack. “This. Is. It.” She held up a full, pleated midi skirt the color of pine needles. It was embellished with fans of flocked black velvet, but the pattern wasn’t at all busy, nothing like the hectic jumble of hot dogs and hamburgers on the other skirt.
“I love it,” Jamie breathed.
“And with this—” Ruby pulled out a simple black boatneck shirt. It looked like something Audrey Hepburn would have worn in Sabrina.
“I love it,” Jamie said again.
“But?” Ruby asked.
“Part of The Year of Me is wearing what I want, without caring what anybody thinks. But that combo is an outfit with a capital O. I’m not sure I can pull it off. It needs the right hair. The right lipstick. It won’t work unless I go all the way with it.”
