The Wrong Man

by Natasha Anders

  “I’m sure it’s nice,” he said, blatant dismissal in his voice. “But my mother has this special way of mixing the batter that makes it unbeatable. She won a baking competition with that cake.”

  Lia made a show of looking at her watch.

  “Oh wow, it’s getting pretty late. I should get home. I have work in the morning.”

  “Really? I thought you were unemployed. Truthfully, I would prefer a woman who stayed home after we have kids. My mother will help raise them, of course.”

  “I work at the preschool on Tuesdays and Fridays,” Lia said frostily, offended that this guy wanted her to stay at home with his future kids and his mother. It took her a moment to recognize that it was pretty much in line with the life she had once desperately wanted. Now—and not because she found Peter Baker and his unknown mother completely unlikable—she couldn’t imagine staying home permanently. She admired women who did and would happily take years off to spend with her children, but she would always want to go back to teaching.

  “You do? Nina didn’t mention that.” Her friend Nina Clark had reluctantly set her up with Peter. Pretty much at Lia’s insistence. She had warned Lia that he probably wasn’t the guy she was looking for. But Nina had once, ages ago, mentioned her boyfriend’s single friend Peter, and Lia had called her this morning and asked her to set up a blind date with the man. Next time she’d listen to her friends when they told her a guy wasn’t for her. Nina would only give her a resounding “I told you so” when she heard about this disastrous evening.

  “It’s not common knowledge yet. I plan to become a fully qualified preschool teacher, and the job will eventually become permanent.” Part of her really hoped he’d realize that the schools were closed and clue in to the fact that he was being brushed off.

  “Will you give it up when you start popping out babies?” he asked crassly, and Lia fortified herself with a gulp of wine and shook her head.

  “No. Anyway, it’s really late. I have to get home. Thank you so much for a lovely evening, but I don’t think we have much in common. So we probably won’t be seeing each other again.” She summoned Thandiwe over, and the young woman, who had been waiting for her signal, astutely guessing that Lia would want to make a break for it, hastened over with the bill.

  “Thanks, Thandiwe,” she said gratefully. The woman was very familiar with the McGregor sisters—she’d been interning at their father’s practice for the last few years and would be leaving for college soon to study veterinary medicine. She only rarely worked shifts at MJ’s anymore, concentrating on her studies instead, but Lia was grateful that she was here tonight. She’d been hovering for most of the night, clearly not caring much for Peter Baker.

  They split the bill.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Peter said, and Lia shook her head. Seriously? How could this guy be so thick-skinned? She’d just told him they wouldn’t be seeing each other again.

  “No, that’s fine. You go ahead. Thandiwe works with my father, and I need to get something from her for him.”

  “I can wait,” he said.

  “Oh yes, I have Inkululeko’s dog vaccination charts for you,” Thandiwe said, catching on quickly. “I have to ask you to wait five minutes, though. I just need to take table ten’s order.”

  “Yes, of course, no problem,” Lia said with a smile. “I need to use the restroom.”

  He still didn’t budge.

  “Thandiwe, do you have a, uh . . . sanitary towel for me, please? I didn’t bring any,” Lia asked in a not quite lowered voice. In fact, her voice had just enough volume to swivel a few heads at the tables closest to theirs. But these were desperate times. She fought back a blush and ignored Peter, who shifted uncomfortably at her question.

  “Oh, no sanitary towels,” Thandiwe said regretfully. “Only tampons, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, great, that’s . . .”

  “Anyway, good night,” Peter said, surging to his feet. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  He left without looking back, and Lia face-palmed while Thandiwe burst into laughter.

  “Oh, good grief! I thought he was never going to leave,” Lia lamented, which only made Thandiwe laugh louder. “I didn’t want him to walk me to my car, I figured he’d try to kiss me.”

  “He had food in his beard,” Thandiwe said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  “I know.”

  “Wait five minutes before leaving. Did you park right outside?”

  “Yes, within sight of the door.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door and watch you leave,” Thandiwe suggested, and Lia grinned.

  “Thanks, Thandiwe, you’ve been an absolute star.”

  She was in bed when her phone rang. A look at the screen confirmed that it was Brand.

  “Brand. It’s late. I’m trying to get some sleep.”

  “It’s barely ten. I’m surprised you’re at home already. Spencer mentioned that you had a date tonight.”

  “Why are you and Spencer discussing—” Lia bit off the rest of the sentence and sighed. “You know what? Never mind. If you thought I’d still be out on my date, why are you calling me?”

  Silence.

  “Brand? Why are you calling?”

  “I was just checking if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ve seen all kinds of shit, Lia. I know what kind of dangerous losers are out there.”

  “He was hardly dangerous,” Lia scoffed.

  “But he was a loser?” he guessed astutely, and Lia grimaced.

  “He lives with his mother.”

  “You live with your parents,” he pointed out, and she laughed. Acknowledging the hit. Her comment had been hypocritical.

  “I have plans to move out. He wants his mother to move in with us after we get married.”

  “Wait, why are you discussing marriage with some arsehole you just met?” Brand asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “Maybe it was love at first sight?” she suggested lightly. More silence. This time it thundered.

  “How old is he?” Brand asked, ending the loaded silence.

  “Thirty-nine. He’s an electrical engineer. He expects his wife to stay home and take care of the kids. His mom will help out, of course. He likes her cooking, so his wife will have to learn her recipes. He’s allergic to all animal fur. Even bird dander. So absolutely no pets. He likes a woman who takes care of her figure and who keeps her hair and nails—”

  “Stop, for God’s sake! Don’t tell me you’ll be seeing this fucker again!”

  “Not likely,” she said, laughing. “He wants this perfect wife but can’t even be bothered to keep his beard neat or wear a clean shirt on a date. And I plan to teach—it’s not something I’m willing to give up again. Not for anyone.”

  “Sunshine, you’re turning me on with all this delicious assertiveness. I may be developing a librarian dominatrix fantasy right as we speak.”

  “Shut up,” Lia said, rolling her eyes but smiling despite herself. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

  “You could come over and sleep next to me.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Brand!”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “You know it is. Good night.”

  “’Night, sunshine. See you in the morning.”

  Paul West chewed with his mouth open . . . but that wasn’t the deal breaker. Chewing with an open mouth she could handle; watching bits of food being masticated was tolerable. She really wasn’t that picky. After the first civil half hour, she had relaxed and sent Billie Greenspan, the friend who had organized this particular date with one of her boyfriend’s cricketing buddies, a thumbs-up emoji. But that had been before the first course had been ordered, when Paul West had smiled sweetly and been charming. Before he had started chewing with his mouth open and before he had started in on his very favorite subject of conversation.

  “. . . but I told that bitch, I told her, if she takes the dog, I’d take her to
court so fast her head would spin. No, seriously, she thinks she can cheat on me with that Neanderthal and then get the dog? She can fucking think again!” Yes, what Lia couldn’t quite handle was the conversation.

  “You must really love the dog.” Lia managed to get a word in edgewise. He liked animals—that was something, wasn’t it? Plus, he was a good dresser: nice tie and jacket. Passably good-looking. But—

  “I fucking hate that little psychotic mutt. He bites any chance he gets. No, he’s headed for the pound.”

  “But then why do you want him?” Lia was appalled and he shrugged, shoveling another forkful of food into his open mouth. He then started talking with his mouth full . . . ugh.

  “Because she wants him, and she wants him because I want him. In truth, neither of us really wants the little bastard.” The poor dog. Lia felt sorry for it, having two such selfish individuals for owners. “I have him at the moment. She had to get away for the weekend, she said. Told me if I was so desperate for the dog, I could keep him for a couple of days. But he’s done nothing but whine and bark since I got him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “In the car.”

  “What? You can’t leave a dog in the car for hours at a time.”

  “Yeah, maybe not in summer, but come on, it’s not like he’s going to die out there in this cool weather.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Don’t tell me how to take care of my own dog, sister. Now, are we going to screw tonight or what?”

  “Hey, Brand,” Lia answered her phone with a despondent sigh an hour later.

  “Bad?”

  “Unbelievably bad. I didn’t think they could get worse than the guy with the Oedipal thing going on, but this one . . . what a horrid individual. Hates his ex-wife but couldn’t stop talking about her at all.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And . . .” A whine interrupted what she’d been about to say, and she stared down into a pair of concerned eyes looking up at her from her lap.

  “What’s that sound?”

  “That’s Yappy the yorkie.”

  “What?”

  “He asked me to look after his dog.”

  Well, his exact words had been “If you’re so fucking worried about the mongrel, you take him. I can’t wait to tell that bitch I gave the little asshole away.”

  “Wait, what? Your date asked you to look after his dog?”

  “Well, he kind of stormed out, then came back in, said ‘good riddance,’ and dumped the dog in my arms before storming back out. Leaving me to take care of both the bill and Yappy.”

  “Jesus, Lia!”

  “Tonight was a bit of a low point,” she confessed on a whisper, her voice hitching as a tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Oh, sunshine, I’m so sorry,” he groaned. “Please don’t cry, okay? This motherfucker isn’t worth it.”

  “It’s not that, it’s just . . . I don’t understand why I can’t meet someone nice. It shouldn’t be this hard. It was so easy before Clayton—I had so many romantic opportunities with lovely men. After three years away from the dating scene, it feels like the viable prospects in the pool of single men have mostly disappeared. Probably all happily married by now. And the only ones left are these horrible . . .” She stopped, shaking her head, and impatiently swiping at the tears with the heel of her free hand. She was annoyed with herself for allowing this to affect her so strongly. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly.”

  He groaned again.

  “Please come over,” he said, his voice raw.

  “It’s not a good idea. Good night, Brand.”

  “Lia . . .” She hung up on him before he could complete his sentence. Her phone buzzed seconds later, and she smiled when she looked at the screen and saw the kissy face emoji. She didn’t reply, but for some reason, the silly little emoji made her feel slightly better.

  Yappy was an instant hit with Lia’s mother and became a welcome and immediately loved addition to the family’s always-growing menagerie. Millicent McGregor hadn’t had a special fur baby of her own in many years, but she and Yappy adopted each other at first sight. When Lia called Billie and told her what happened, her friend was both apologetic and livid at the same time.

  Brand had sent her an early-morning text, asking if she was okay, and Lia had responded with just a thumbs-up emoji. After three embarrassing and disastrous dates in three nights, she was starting to miss her former arrangement with Brand. At least there was no uncertainty there. She knew what to expect from him and vice versa.

  She sighed and got ready for dinner at Daisy and Mason’s. The couple would be leaving in two days’ time, and they were cramming as much family time in as they could.

  Lia was looking forward to putting the last three nights out of her mind and spending an entertaining evening with her sisters and the Carlisles. For some reason, it didn’t occur to her that Brand would be there as well. But he was the one who opened the door for her, welcoming her with a huge smile.

  “Hey, sunshine, you’re looking beautiful as always.” Lia looked down at her plain yellow dress and gray cardigan combination. She looked ordinary, but Brand definitely had a gleam in his eye while his gaze perused her from top to bottom.

  “Uh, thanks. You look nice, too.” That much was true. He was wearing a pair of jeans that were slightly loose on his thinner frame and a T-shirt with sneakers.

  “When I heard you were going to be here, I made an effort to look good,” he joked, and she smiled in response.

  “What did you bring?” he asked nosily, taking the foil-covered bowl from her as he let her in. Daisy’s tiny house—soon to be Lia’s tiny rental—seemed overcrowded with everybody crammed in there. Their parents were in Knysna, enjoying a preplanned romantic date night, and weren’t there to add to the chaotic throng.

  “It’s just a salad,” she replied, and he lifted a corner of the foil to peer into the bowl.

  “Fucking fantastic! Tomato and cucumber roses.” Why did he sound so absolutely delighted by that fact?

  “Some people actually appreciate my pointless pretty food,” she said with a smile, inviting him to join in on the self-deprecating joke.

  “I was a prick, Lia,” he said, his voice alive with contrition. “I missed your little flowers the moment you stopped making them for me.”

  “Really?” He was having her on again. What a ridiculous and unnecessary lie to tell.

  “I know you don’t believe me, but yeah, really.” How odd—he seemed sincere and Lia found herself actually believing him. He made a show of looking her over and then grinned.

  “Where’s your new little buddy?”

  “What?” she asked, confused.

  “The dog?”

  “Oh! My mom fell in love with him, he’s hers now. He’s at home, she didn’t want to leave him so soon after getting him, but she and our dad have been planning this evening for weeks. So he’s in one of the spare rooms with some toys and treats.”

  “It may not have been under ideal circumstances for you, but he’s lucky he found his way to your family.”

  “Thank you,” she said self-consciously before shifting her eyes from his and smiling at Daisy, who came over to give her a casual hug and a glass of white wine.

  “Yay, you’re here! Please, please, please get Daff out of my kitchen, I’m gone four months and she thinks she’s a chef? She’s burning something as we speak.” Sure enough, the acrid smell of burned meat wafted toward them, and Lia laughed. Daff wasn’t a great cook, but she couldn’t accept being less than amazing at anything and was now on a mission to prove to herself and everybody else that she could create passably good meals.

  Tonight’s offering didn’t smell passable or good, it just smelled inedible, and Lia, being the peacekeeper in the family, immediately made her way over to her older sister to ease her away from the stove.

  Spencer was chatting with Mason and grinned as he watched Lia join Daff in the kitchen. The man knew better than to intervene.
<
br />   Charlie had latched onto Brand and was peppering him with questions about some pop star or another. Thankfully not Laura Prentiss this time. If Lia never heard that woman’s name again, it would be too soon. Brand was patiently answering the teen’s questions, even though Lia was pretty sure the girl had asked him the exact same things on Sunday.

  “What’s cooking?” Lia asked, sipping her wine as she glanced down to see what Daff was slaving over. She tried not to cringe at the sight of the meat sticking to the bottom of the pot.

  “Burned offerings,” Daff said on a sigh.

  “You giving up?”

  “Yeah, not even you can save this, Lia. And Deedee’s in a panic that I’m going to burn the house down.”

  “She’s not,” Lia said kindly, and then amended, “Well, not really.”

  Daff laughed and shook her head.

  “Meh, I’d rather be drinking anyway,” Daff said, taking a slurp of her red wine to prove her point. She shifted the pot off the heat and turned off the gas. She hooked her arm through Lia’s and nodded toward Brand, who was still chatting with Charlie. “So I hear you’ve been out and about town with several different men. Does that mean the fling’s over?”

  “Yes.” There was nothing more to add, really.

  “That was pretty fast.” The sheer astonishment on Daff’s face made Lia uncomfortable.

  “Says the woman who once had a three-night thing with Spencer.”

  “Well, that was different, wasn’t it? There were feelings developing between us. The no-strings-sex thing didn’t suit the parameters of our changing relationship.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Brand and I are done. It was fun, but it’s over now. I thought I’d start dating again and spend more time on my studies. I have to hand in a couple of assignments when the semester begins again.”

  “And you’re okay?” Lia considered the question. Was she okay? Yes, she was. In fact, her fling with Brand had been less stressful and humiliating than her foray back into the dating pool. Okay, so getting sexually involved with a man on a casual basis was very far away from normal for her, but she found Sam Brand incredibly attractive. And more than that, she liked him. And maybe she should stop trying to overanalyze every aspect of that attraction and just enjoy it.