My Nerdy Valentine

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  But that didn't make him a geek. Grabbing the glass in front of him, he took a big gulp and got a mouthful of straight tequila. His eyes watered, but he swallowed it, by God. He didn't cough and choke, either.

  Sneaking a glance down the bar, he tried to tell if the truck-driver type had taken his Raging Bull as it was served or if he'd mixed it before drinking. Just his luck, the glass was already empty, giving him no clue as to the manly way to approach this drink. Fortunately the very act of tipping it had stirred up the contents some, so his next sip, and he did take only a sip this time, went down easier.

  He should have ordered a beer. A beer was uncomplicated, but it had a solid, non-nerd sound to it, especially if you stuck to the domestic brands that used promotion images like rearing stallions and men in hard hats. William had never worried about things like that before, but no one had ever called him their "Geek of the Week" before, either. Time for an image makeover. He took another sip of his Raging Bull.

  Amanda seemed to be avoiding him, probably because she didn't want to discuss his Geek of the Week status. So he grabbed a keyboard so he could play trivia. The first step was choosing a screen name.

  The liquor hadn't made him drunk by any means, but it had made him loose. The last time he'd played here with Justin he'd used his initials. This time he typed in dow dude. He liked it. A screen name with attitude.

  Because he soon was kicking serious butt at trivia, he attracted a small crowd. Some wanted to compete, although he annihilated all comers. Some wanted to cheer. A skinny woman in a Star Trek T-shirt bought him another Raging Bull.

  Every once in a while he'd scan the bar area for Amanda. A couple of times he caught her looking back at him. He still needed to talk to her and tell her his big idea about foiling the valentine stalker, but it could wait. At the moment he was busy showing off. If he was a Geek of the Week, he would be the best damned Geek of the Week she'd ever seen.

  "Hey, Dow Dude," said the woman in the Star Trek shirt. "What's your real name?"

  William didn't have to think very hard. "It's Will," he said. "Will Sloan."

  Normally, Amanda was extremely efficient at her job. Not tonight. She confused drink orders and spilled things, all because she couldn't concentrate on what she was doing. Bartending wasn't nearly as interesting as watching William draw in the crowd.

  He was easily the best trivia player Geekland had ever seen, and in this bar, that counted for a bunch. William happily rode the wave of popularity, laughing in triumph as he racked up an unbelievable number of points.

  The category didn't seem to matter. He knew everything. Sometime around eleven-thirty, Geekland moved into first place in the country on the master trivia board, mostly thanks to William. The crowd went wild.

  Amanda didn't want to be impressed, but brains had always had a seductive power over her. Add to that the animation in William's expression and the flash of white teeth every time he smiled, and she couldn't seem to look anywhere but at him. He was having the time of his life and she felt... left out.

  The man who had been interested in her was suddenly the object of interest from several other women. One had even bought him a drink. The attention William was getting now was different from Gloria's all-out assault. William hadn't wanted Gloria's brand of aggressive sexuality, but he might be delighted to go home with one of the nerds hanging around his neck watching him ace each trivia question.

  That shouldn't matter a flying fig to Amanda. It did, though. No matter how she talked to herself, she hated that William was enjoying himself with other people, specifically other women, and seemed to have forgotten that she existed.

  Maybe he'd accept another Raging Bull from the woman in the Star Trek T-shirt. That could easily put him in the mood to go home with her after the bar closed. Amanda braced herself for another order to come through and was surprised when it didn't.

  As the hands on the bar clock edged toward closing time, she tried not to think about what would happen after that. She would go home alone, as usual, and William would most likely not. He had at least three choices, and why wouldn't he pick one? A good trivia player was catnip to the women who gathered at Geekland. Like Amanda, they were turned on by brains.

  She raised her voice, as she did every night at this time. "Last call!" That would probably bring the drink-buying woman over for one more Raging Bull to clinch the deal with William. Amanda had a last-minute flurry of orders, but none of them involved Kahlua, sambuco, and tequila.

  Then she happened to notice William's hand in the air, motioning her over.

  She kept her tone businesslike. "What can I get you?"

  "A glass of water, please."

  "Aw, Will!" said the Star Trek woman. "One more for the road, baby!"

  "Thanks, but I'm switching to water."

  "Bummer." The woman's shoulders slumped, as if she knew the switch to water meant the evening might not end as she'd hoped.

  Amanda added a wedge of lemon to the water before bringing it to him. She told herself she'd do that for any customer, but it wasn't true. She saved those touches for the people she liked. And she very much liked William. Or was it Will, now?

  She set the water on a cocktail napkin.

  "Thanks." He shoved a tip across the bar.

  "Not necessary." She shoved it back. Tips helped her survive financially, but sometimes it felt good to pretend she didn't need to take the money. Tonight with William was one of those times.

  "I still need to talk with you," he said. "It's important."

  She tried not to feel gratified by that and failed. The other women hadn't won him over, after all. "We're getting ready to close."

  "Then I'll walk you out."

  "Okay." Then as she totaled her receipts, she eavesdropped shamelessly as each of the women who'd clustered around him during the evening made a bid for spending more time with him, extending invitations for coffee, hot chocolate, a nightcap at their place.

  William was gentle, but he turned each one down. Gradually the crowd thinned. By the time the cleanup crew started stacking chairs on tables, Will was the only customer left.

  Amanda grabbed her coat and purse from behind the bar. "Ready? My bus will be here in ten minutes."

  "Then let's go." William walked over to the coat rack on the wall beside the front door. After helping her with her coat, he held the door for her as they stepped into the night. The breeze came from the land tonight instead of blowing in from the lake, so the temperature wasn't nearly as breath-stealing as it had been the past few evenings.

  "Nice night," William said.

  "Not bad." Amanda decided William was in tune with Chicago weather if he thought a temperature hovering around freezing was nice. Or maybe he wasn't talking about the weather. Maybe he was referring to his trivia-playing triumph.

  "You really knocked 'em dead at Geekland." She started walking toward the bus stop.

  He fell into step beside her. "My mind is crammed with useless facts. I can't seem to help myself. I read or hear some silly bit of information and it sticks."

  "You should go on a TV quiz show."

  "Nah. That would freak me out. Listen, I've been thinking about your valentine guy. What kind of personal safety measures do you have in place?"

  It was an unsettling question, one that made her think of things she'd rather not. "Like what?"

  "Do you know any self-defense tactics?"

  "Not exactly. A kick to the groin is about all I know to do."

  "That's something." He paused as they reached the corner where the bus stop shelter stood. "How about security where you live?"

  "The person's never contacted me there. I'm not worried about it." The street was deserted, as it often was when she waited for the bus after work. Usually she didn't think about it, but tonight she was glad to have William there, even if he was scaring her a little with the direction of the conversation.

  "But you have dead bolts?"

  She turned to face him. "Sure." And now she
was ready to change the topic. "A roommate?"

  "No." She thought of Mavis and Chester. "But I have a couple of nosy neighbors. One's a retired schoolteacher and the other is retired from the railroad, I think. They don't miss a trick."

  "Too bad one's not a retired cop."

  A car cruised by and she shivered. But it was just a car, not somebody trying to abduct her. She needed to get a grip. "It's probably not as big a problem as I've made of it. I may have overreacted. I'm sure it's someone I know playing a practical joke."

  "Maybe."

  "You're not helping calm me down, William. Or is it Will, now?"

  "Will is fine. And I'm not trying to calm you down." His breath frosted in the cold air. "I don't think you should treat this lightly."

  "Why not? It's only cards and a cookie. It's not like anybody's threatened me or anything." That was true. If she concentrated on that fact, maybe she could convince herself that whoever was delivering the valentines was some practical jokester.

  "You could be right. I'd like to agree with you, which would make us both feel comfy about it."

  "Then agree with me, and we can talk about something else. Whatever happened to your hat with the earflaps?"

  "I retired it."

  She studied him in the light from a nearby street lamp. "Your ears look a little red. Are they sensitive to the cold?" "A little. I'm used to it."

  She didn't think so. She thought he'd abandoned the hat because he didn't want to wear it in front of her. "You should take care of your ears."

  "No big deal."

  So that topic was closed. She grabbed another. "What did you think of those Raging Bulls?"

  "Not too bad, once you mix everything together. Amanda, please don't ignore this valentine stuff. Speaking from a guy's perspective, I'm sure it isn't normal, not even as a joke." The streetlight brought out the angles in his face, making him look rugged and intense. Sexy.

  She resisted the urge to move closer to him. "What if it's not a guy? What if it's Gloria?"

  "I thought of that, too. I can't believe it's her. She's too self-absorbed to go to all that trouble."

  Amanda had to agree. "Okay, so it's not Gloria."

  "I think the problem is that you seem available."

  "Me?" She laughed. "I'm the least available person in the world. I'm either working or going to school. I never stand still."

  "I mean that you don't have a guy around. You're unattached." He coughed into his fist. "That kind of available."

  "Oh." She had an uneasy feeling where this conversation was headed. It wouldn't be so bad, except that the longer she stood here, the more inclined she was to weave sexual fantasies about William. Or rather, Will.

  The puffs of condensed air when he spoke made her aware of his mouth, and what it would be like if she kissed him, if she took the initiative this time. She'd already put her glasses away. She had the urge to see if she could fog his.

  His lips would be chilled at first, as would hers. But she didn't think they'd stay that way. She thought he'd kiss her back. No, after last night, she knew he would kiss her back.

  "I could pretend to be your boyfriend, just until this guy realizes I'm around and gives up."

  She was tempted more than she could ever let him know. If she said yes, how long would the pretending last? Not long, in her estimation. Soon they would be playing for keeps.

  "It wouldn't work," she said. "For a million reasons, but the most obvious one is Gloria. She'd get rid of me immediately if I horned in on what she perceives as her territory. She's warned me not to flirt with any guys who come through the office door, and I need this internship."

  "I think we could work around Gloria."

  "Ha. Gloria isn't the type to be worked around. Although she's self-absorbed, she has instincts like you wouldn't believe. But aside from her, there's me. I've explained that I have no time for a relationship. And that includes a pretend relationship."

  With every passing second, she wanted his kiss even more. Staying put took all her concentration. She wondered if he was fighting the same battle, knowing that if he reached for her the way he had the night before, he'd ruin any chance of having her agree to his plan.

  "I'd stay out of your way." He shoved his hands in his coat pockets. "Or I could help you study. Whatever, I think you need someone around who—"

  "Whoops, there's my bus." She touched his cheek, the only thing she'd allow herself to do. His cheek was surprisingly warm, and she let her hand linger there a fraction longer than she should. 'Thank you for the thought. It wouldn't work."

  His gaze had softened from the moment she'd touched him. His voice took on a rougher texture, as if he had been holding himself in check. "I don't like the chance you're taking, being on your own so much."

  "I've been on my own for years. This is no different." She hurried toward the bus. "Thanks for walking me here," she called softly over her shoulder.

  "Be careful, Amanda."

  "Of course!" She climbed onto the bus. Then she deliberately took a seat on the far side, where she wouldn't be able to see him as the bus pulled away. She was afraid that if she looked down and saw him standing there, she'd pull the emergency cord, get off the bus and run into his arms.

  FOURTEEN

  Will was fourteen blocks from home, but he walked it rather than taking a bus. He needed the exercise to work out his frustration. Apparently he'd invested a lot of himself into that plan to protect Amanda. When she'd refused to go along, he'd suffered more disappointment than he'd expected.

  If he were totally honest with himself, his motives hadn't been pure. Yes, he thought Amanda needed someone around to scare off the creepy guy. But any fool could see that landing that job would give him the inside track. He'd been trying to help, but he'd also had his eye on that inside track.

  She didn't want anyone on the inside track, or even the outside track. She wanted the track perfectly clear. Now that he'd heard that message several times, he needed to pay attention and let her the hell alone. If the valentine guy turned out to be dangerous, then . . . she'd have to figure that out for herself.

  The idea made his chest hurt, so he walked faster, then broke into a jog. About five blocks from his apartment, his cell sounded a familiar tune. Justin. Will unzipped his jacket and dug out his cell phone.

  "Hey, buddy," Justin said. "Hope I didn't wake you."

  "Nope."

  "You at home?"

  "Nope." He struggled to catch his breath.

  There was a brief pause. "Yikes. Bad timing. I didn't think you had anything going right now, but I—"

  "I don't have anything going. I decided to walk home."

  "Walk? Since when do you like to walk?"

  "Exercise is good for you, Justin. It floods the system with endorphins and elevates your mood."

  "Then why do you sound so pissed off?"

  "I'm not pissed off."

  "Oh. My mistake. Where are you walking home from?" Will sighed. He felt like such a schmuck. "Geekland." Another pause. "I thought you were avoiding Geekland." "I will be from now on."

  "Shot down, huh? The secret valentines might work for some women, but obviously Amanda's not one of them." "I didn't send the valentines, damn it." "I'd stick to that story, too, since they didn't work." "Justin, I really didn't send—"

  "Okay, okay. But if you need a new tactic, she was excited about the Barmaster. You might go online and see what kind of bartending gear you could find. I'm pretty sure I saw a singing swizzle stick on some site or other. Maybe you could find one that plays "I'm in the Mood for Love" or something along those lines."

  "Thanks, but I'm abandoning the cause." And Justin was right about him still being pissed. The endorphins that were supposed to be elevating his mood had achieved squat. He still felt as crappy as he had when he'd left the bus stop. This particular mood might require hydraulics to jack it up to the cheerfulness level.

  "I'm sorry it didn't work out, buddy. She seems like your type."


  "Apparently I'm not her type."

  "Her loss. Want me to come over? We could have a few beers, diss a few women, play some gin rummy."

  "Don't you have to get up and go to work at eight?" Justin had always been an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy. Will had hoped that two nights of drinking would have been enough to settle him back into his old pattern.

  "I'm not sleeping worth shit, Will. I deliberately laid off the booze tonight, to see if that would help, but I just lie there staring at the ceiling."

  When Will compared his situation to Justin's, he couldn't feel very sorry for himself. He'd never had a chance with Amanda, but Justin had been engaged to be married. "Then come on over," he said. "We can be pathetic together."

  Amanda's answering machine light was flashing when she walked in the door of her apartment. She was probably the last person of her generation to have a regular phone instead of a cell, but for her it was the cheaper alternative. She never made long-distance calls, so basic service worked line.

  Assuming it was a recorded telemarketing call, she punched the button to make sure before she erased it. Instead of a voice, the message was music, an old Duran Duran tune called "Hungry Like the Wolf." She paused in the process of taking off her coat to listen for a message of some kind. None came.

  The quality of the sound wasn't that great. She heard coughs and clunking noises in the background, as if someone had dialed her number and then held a phone up to a stereo. As that possibility took shape in her mind, she began to shiver.

  Walking to her door, she threw the dead bolt into place. It wasn't a habit, and she needed to make it one. Then she prowled through the apartment checking window locks, closing her drapes tight, and peeking into her bedroom closet. She even moved the clothes aside to make sure no one was hiding behind them.

  For the first time she wished she hadn't rented on the first floor. Nothing had been available on the other levels, and she'd liked the apartment's location near a bus line. The price had been decent. Being on the first floor meant no stairs, and she'd convinced herself that was a good thing. It was the reason Mavis and Chester had taken their apartments.