Goddamn. The red lipstick had faded and gotten all messed up, some of it migrating to the skin surrounding her lips, and her hair splayed out on his pillow as she grinned at the ceiling. They were at his condo this time, it being the closest location to the downtown Lightbox Theater where they’d seen some endlessly long Danish film with no lighting. How had he ever thought of Amy as Miss Frostypants? Miss Firepants was more like it. Or Miss FireNoPants. Or whatever.
“My brother’s coming to town.”
“That’s…great,” he managed, it taking him a moment to catch up to the notion that they were now talking about mundane everyday things even though his head had just exploded a minute ago. “Just in town for a visit?”
“Yeah. I think he’s worried about me.”
Dax furrowed his brow. Oh, right. The wedding. The non-wedding. It seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago. “Where does he live?”
“Ottawa. He’s a political consultant. Which basically means he’s a professional campaign manager.”
“He stays with your parents when he visits?”
“Oh, God, no. He stays with me.”
“Does he even see your parents?”
“He probably will.” She shuddered. “Ahh. I dread it. Seeing them is going to be the worst.”
“You haven’t seen them since the wedding?” He tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
She shook her head no. “My mother called last week, but that’s it.”
Was that even possible? To live in the same town with one’s relatives and go a month without seeing them? His mother would set up camp on his porch before that would be allowed to happen. And her parents had watched her be abandoned at the altar and had just gotten around to calling now?
“She thinks it’s all my fault.”
“What? Mason’s little stunt?”
She nodded. He got the sense that she was trying to look blasé.
“Well, that just doesn’t make sense.”
“She says that if I hadn’t been so career-focused and”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“‘dominant,’ Mason wouldn’t have been scared off.”
“Screw that. Let your brother see them if he wants. You don’t have to go.”
“You know, I might not.”
He wanted to tell her to come to the island instead so they could canoe. Or ask her to “go to a movie.” But when she hopped out of bed and started gathering her clothes, he stopped himself.
“Anyway, I should get going.”
Stay.
The thought startled him. In these situations, it was usually the reverse. It was him trying to extricate himself from some girl’s bedroom, or trying to figure out how to politely eject her from his.
“The worst part is my mother apparently still thinks Mason and I can patch things up. All I need to do is apologize. Me! Apologize!” She pulled on a pair of gray cigarette pants.
Stay.
“It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her that I’m not looking for a relationship anymore, that Mason actually did me a big favor. She just doesn’t hear it.” She scraped her hair back into a messy twist, securing it with a clip that he wanted to yank out and throw across the room.
Stay.
He bit his tongue. Hard.
…
The next Wednesday afternoon, Dax had cleared his schedule—things were heating up with financing for the restaurant app, and he and the Boy Geniuses had been pulling long hours producing demos. But he wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of…the movies.
His phone started blaring the Rocky theme song, which Kat had downloaded and assigned to herself.
“Hey,” he said. “How’re my favorite sister and niece?”
“We’re at Mom and Dad’s.” She lowered her voice and stage whispered. “You will die when you hear the news.”
“What?” He started packing his briefcase even though he knew it was pointless. He wasn’t going to get any work done tonight. He grinned.
“Mom asked me to tell you to tell Amy that she won’t need to go out with her tonight.”
Kat’s voice had returned to normal. In fact, it had taken on a singsong quality, like she was performing. Then she dropped the bomb. “Because she and Dad are going to sell the house and move to that Don Mills place she saw a couple weeks ago!”
He sat down with a thud.
His sister lowered her voice again. “And you tell Amy from me that she is my goddamned hero. Again. Dax, is there anything that woman can’t do?”
All he could think about was that if his mother had been won over so easily, this was the end of Wednesday night at the movies. When he didn’t say anything, Kat said, “Dude, hello? This is good news.”
“Right. But the whole point of Mom going out with Amy was to advise her on a new development her company is working on.”
“Yeah, Mom saw right through that. So you’re just going to have to go out with your little girlfriend without your mommy chaperoning.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He listened to Kat blather about logistics—when his mother got an idea in her head, she moved fast. Ripped the proverbial Band-Aid off. He tried to remind himself that Kat was right—this was good news. This was what they’d been aiming for all these years. No more worrying about his dad having a heart attack while shoveling. His mom could have gelato every day. And he personally would be thrilled never to have to mow another lawn.
When he finally extricated himself from the call, he dropped his briefcase back on his desk. It looked like plenty of work was going to get done this evening, after all. Time to man the hell up and stop pouting like a goddamn baby.
Because this couldn’t become emotionally messy. Time to quit while he was ahead.
He made it all the way to the hallway outside his office, planning to head over to Winter Enterprises’ offices to cancel with Amy, before he stopped himself. Better to call. He didn’t know if he’d be able to see her and not…do something stupid.
Allison, he reminded himself. Allison.
…
“Hi!” Amy picked up her phone, stomach fluttering. She got a little thrill when she looked down and saw Dax’s name on the caller ID. Hello, was she in ninth grade? But still, she didn’t care. She even let herself do a little hop of excitement. It was finally—finally!—Wednesday afternoon. She’d been hoping that, as on the last two outings, Dax would be joining her as she shepherded his mom around. Okay, she’d been assuming he would. Still, she hadn’t been 100 percent sure, given that, once again, she hadn’t heard from him all week. Not that she’d really expected to. The previous two weeks suggested a pattern. If they were going to do this hookup thing, it obviously wasn’t going to be an every night occurrence. But, hey, if a once-a-week movie followed by the most epically spectacular sex she could ever imagine was the best she could do, she wasn’t going to rock the boat.
She’d even picked out a movie. A short one. At the theater closest to Dax’s condo.
“You’re not going to believe this.”
Oh, that voice. Even over the phone, it did things to her. “Hit me.”
“My mother has announced that she wants to move to one of those condo buildings at the Shops at Don Mills.”
“That’s great!” Wait. Was that great? Her initial response had been genuine. But without the shared mission of hoodwinking his mother, what reason was there for them to see each other this evening?
“She wonders if you can connect her with that Realtor you were talking about. I could give her mine, of course, but you mentioned a discount on the commission, and as you can probably imagine, there’s nothing my mom loves more than a discount.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll email you her contact info and let her know to expect to hear from your mother.”
Silence then. Was it her turn to talk? Because she was the one who’d made the big leap and suggested the “movies” last time. To do so again, without the excuse of them alrea
dy being together? It smacked of desperation, didn’t it?
“Well, then,” he said, clearing his throat.
Oh, God. This was not the voice of a man enthusiastically looking forward to a date. Or a hookup. Or whatever. It was the voice of a man looking to be let off the hook.
“It’s for the best,” he said. “I’ve got a ton of work to do tonight on the new app. We’re seeing some more potential investors tomorrow.”
She cleared her own throat. Dignity. She wasn’t doing a Mason Redux here. She’d had more than her share of humiliation for a lifetime. “I’m actually pretty swamped, too. The lawyers signed off the paperwork for the McQuade deal faster than I’d anticipated, so…”
Another longer-than-normal silence. Argh! She wanted to scream and throw her phone across the room. Either that, or she might cry. And that was not acceptable. She was not crying over Dax Harris. She’d go back to hating him first.
“Right,” he said. “It was fun while it lasted. I guess I’ll…see you around.”
“See you around,” she echoed, sending a silent howl of protest to the universe.
Then she really did throw her phone at the wall.
But it didn’t do any good because the tears came anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
“Sit.”
Dax looked up, startled. He’d just finished mowing his parents’ lawn, taking great pleasure in the idea that he only had to do this a couple more times before they closed on the sale and moved into the new condo.
His dad handed him a glass of the homemade lemonade that had been a staple at the restaurant and lowered himself into one of the chairs on the porch.
Dax looked around for his mother. Usually if his dad wanted to have a heart-to-heart it was because his mother had put him up to it, and his father ended up sounding like he was reciting lines in a play.
But since his mother was nowhere to be seen, what could he do but sink into a chair next to his dad? “What’s up?”
“Why haven’t we seen Amy for the past few weeks?”
“Why would you see Amy?” Here it went. You’d think by now, everyone would have his “Amy’s not my girlfriend” speech memorized. He certainly did.
“I think it’s time you let go of this Allison thing.”
Dax reared back involuntarily, as if his parent had struck him.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”
“I know.” Jesus. It was almost twenty years later and people still had to say this shit to him?
“But do you? Allison was mentally ill. It wasn’t your fault. If it hadn’t been the breakup, it would have been something else.”
Dax buried his face in his hands. He so did not want to have his conversation. Especially with his father. “Dad, it’s fine,” he finally.
After an uncomfortable silence, his father said, “It was fine while you didn’t care, but now that you do, it’s not fine.”
“What are you talking about?” He tried to temper his tone, but his patience was just about gone. He was thirty-five years old, for God’s sake. Why couldn’t everyone understand that Allison wasn’t holding him back? Quite the contrary—she’d taught him a valuable lesson.
“You’ve probably noticed how I don’t talk very much,” his father said, switching topics with a speed that nearly gave Dax whiplash. If he wasn’t programmed to be such a good son, this was the part where he’d just get up and leave.
“Uh, yeah. It’s kind of one of your signature things.”
“I was always pretty even-keeled.”
He bit back a laugh. “You don’t say.”
“And then I met your mother.”
Dax let the laugh loose then, in spite of himself, imagining his twentysomething father hit with the hurricane that was his twentysomething mother.
“It’s better with her around.” His father stood up and took Dax’s empty glass. “It might not seem like it, but it is.”
What a strange thing for his father to say. Dax wasn’t sure if a response was required.
Apparently not, because the screen door banged behind his father, and a moment later, he heard the water running as his dad filled the sink for dishes.
…
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how much fun karaoke was?”
“Because normal people already know that karaoke is fun.” Danny grabbed the binder of songs out of Amy’s hands and started flipping through it. “Time for a real singer.”
“Hey!” But she couldn’t really be offended. Cassie, Misty, and Amy had just belted out a rendition of “Single Ladies.” Amy had resisted the temptation to point out that Cassie was not only not single, she was probably the happiest coupled person that Amy knew. But in truth, they’d needed her. Misty, even after three glasses of wine, was shy enough that she pretty much just mouthed the words. Amy’s three glasses of wine, on the other hand, had emboldened her enough to inspire actual vocalization. She didn’t think she was bad per se, just that she needed another voice to help her find the notes—and her courage.
But once you got up there and started belting it out, it was kind of addictive. There was something comforting about playing to your type, reveling in your demographic. Yes, a trio of late-twenties and early-thirties women singing Bey’s anthem to single female empowerment was cliché. But having gotten together with Mason so young, Amy had pretty much skipped this step.
And this was a fun step. She kept having to remind herself that. Fun! It was also kind of bittersweet. Three-plus weeks had gone by since that awful, awkward phone call with Dax. She’d seen him, of course, a couple of times in the office. It was impossible to avoid doing that. But it had always been in the kitchen with other people around. The first time, he’d flashed her a small smile that gave her a little thrill, but then it disappeared.
Her conclusion: in the end, even though she had managed to get over herself and have casual sex, she’d still failed at it. Because apparently she was incapable of keeping it casual. Mason had broken her heart. She understood that. It made sense. But it was starting to feel like Dax had broken her heart, too. Which was confusing because wasn’t the whole point of a casual hookup that your heart wasn’t involved?
She shook her head. “Hey, buttercup.” Danny slid the book back to her. “Whatever’s bugging you, shake it off.”
“‘Shake It Off!’ Let’s sing that one! Everyone’s always telling me how much I look like Taylor Swift!”
Danny narrowed his eyes, assessing. “You know, you really do. I don’t have a comeback for that.”
While a group of friendly sixtysomething women who said they were a book club—Amy reminded herself to look into joining one if that was what “book clubs” did—performed a spirited rendition of “Delta Dawn,” a heated debate broke out about which Taylor Swift song to sing on their next turn. Even Emma, who refused to participate, had an opinion. There was a “Mean” faction and a “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” faction.
“You know,” Amy said, “the day I got left at the altar, I thought about how if I actually had my own friends, I would have ended up in a bar like this singing one of Taylor Swift’s kiss-off songs to her exes.” The group went quiet.
“Aww, hon,” Cassie finally said.
“I think you should pick the song,” Misty said, prying the binder from Danny, who had been clutching it to his chest.
She surprised herself by saying, “You know what? I don’t think I want to do a ‘boys suck’ song.” Honestly, hadn’t she given Mason enough airtime? And, Dax, too, for that matter? “Let’s do that song ‘Long Live.’”
Everyone’s face was blank except Emma. “Oh, I love that song!”
“Don’t know it, but I’m game,” Cassie said.
“It’s not one of her biggest hits,” Emma said, “but it’s a great one. It’s about a young couple. They’re kind of misfits, and they do some big prank or something and amaze everyone in their town.”
“I always thought it was about a pair of friends,” Amy sai
d, trying to think back to the lyrics. There was a trophy, some pledges to remember each other forever. She’d always pictured a gaggle of teen girls on the cusp of adulthood. It was a buoyant, hopeful song, and as fun as the single lady anthems had been, she wasn’t in the mood for defiant wallowing anymore. “Whatever,” she said, grabbing Emma’s hand. “You’re not getting out of this one. If you’re the only other one who knows it, I need you.”
…
“Well, this is turning into a real laugh a minute.” Dax plunked his empty glass on the bar at Edward’s.
“Sorry,” said Marcus, the CEO of the Rosemann Agency.
“Don’t be,” Dax said. “I started it.” And indeed he had, telling Jack and Marcus about how he’d thought he had an investor hooked for the restaurant app, and after weeks of wooing, the guy bailed. He was back to square one with the project. It was getting to him more than something like that usually would. Normally, he could shake off this kind of setback, but in recent weeks he’d been impatient, touchy…a real charmer, in short.
Normally, he wouldn’t have spoken so openly in front of Marcus. Dax and Jack were fairly tight, but Marcus, the third CEO from the forty-ninth floor, while not unfriendly, wasn’t really one to hang out. But he was glad the adman had decided to join them, because Marcus had suggested an intriguing lead, promising to introduce Dax to a friend whose holding company owned a bunch of restaurants. Then, to Dax’s utter shock, Marcus had launched into a harrowing tale about his mother’s recent death from breast cancer. Marcus hadn’t seemed like the kind of guy who was close to anyone, much less his mother.
Jack, of course, had not made an entry into the Sweepstakes of Woe. He was currently living the charmed life, both personally and professionally. In fact, as the drinks flowed, Dax had a fleeting thought of telling him about Amy. Just to see what he thought.
But he quashed the idea as soon as it arose. There was nothing to discuss. Amy was interested in hookups. So was he. And hookups didn’t last more than a couple of dates, so they were over.
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