Little Miss Lovesick

by Kitty Bucholtz

  Or it could be starting to sprinkle, said another Voice.

  Yeah, it issonot raining, she purred.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said when he walked in. He wore a rugby shirt, shorts, and Tevas. It was a new look on him. I liked it. There was a rugged manliness barely covered by a civilized veneer.

  “No problem, I just got here,” I said, trying not to smile too broadly.

  “Good to see you.” Matt leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

  He kissed me!shrieked Lovesick.At thebeginning of the date!

  “You’re looking great today,” he said as his eyes gave me the once-over.

  I looked down. White tank top with a blue button down tied at the waist and sleeves rolled up, khaki shorts at mid-thigh, sandals.

  “You do the thing—” Matt pointed near my belly button. “With the knot — and the open…” His finger was sort of wiggling around. He reminded me of Joey onFriends. “You know. It’s nice.”

  I moved my hand self-consciously over my stomach. Yup, skin showing. I tried not to tug my shirt down, but left my hand covering the open skin. Elle McPherson I was not. I really should work out more if I’m going to be comfortable with the ogling.

  Ilovethe ogling!(Oh, you’ll never guess who saidthat.)

  He winked at me.

  My stomach did another flip. How was I going to keep breakfast down with him around? I grinned like an idiot and tried not to look at him.

  “Your table is right this way.”

  I almost tripped the waitress in my hurry to follow her. I let out a breath through pursed lips and tried to act natural. Difficult when I knew he was two steps behind me.

  The waitress stopped at a booth and laid down the menus. I slid in one side, half-hoping Matt would slide in right beside me. He thanked the waitress who must’ve said something waitress-y but I didn’t catch it.

  “Hungry?” He smiled at me, then looked over the menu.

  “You have no idea,” I murmured as I opened mine.

  He chuckled.

  Oh crappy, did I say that out loud? Recover, recover!

  “I usually eat earlier than this.” I moved the tall menu high enough to hide for a moment. Oh geez, I’ve got to gain some control.

  “See anything you like?”

  “Nope!” Can’t see you. Won’t flirt with you.

  He laughed again. The sound made my senses whirl.

  I lowered my menu. “I’m not on vacation anymore. No more flirting.” I tried to look like I meant it. Couldn’t hold eye contact. Returned to the menu.

  I could feel his stare and looked back at him.

  “I’m a big boy. I don’t think you can tell me what to do.”

  “Oh really?” Stomach flips! Change the subject, quick!

  “So tell me, what brings you to Traverse City, Mr. Fishing Guide?” Okay, getting to the heart of my curiosity was one way to change the subject.

  “Dr. Willard. He delivered me thirty-two years ago.”

  “Uh, okay.” I chuckled in complete confusion. “I thought you lived in Abundance Creek.”

  Matt folded his menu and laid it beside the water glass a bus boy had brought. “That’s my uncle’s place. I was just helping out while GT was in Greece.”

  “Ah.” I wasn’t following.

  “GT likes to change things, but he’s a bit, uh, controlling. So he doesn’t like the changes to take place when he can’t be there.” Matt shrugged. “It amounted to a ten-day paid vacation for me and my crew.”

  “Interesting.” Generous. Quirky, but generous.

  I turned another page in the menu. Too many choices. A dozen kinds of omelettes. Eggs and meat. Eggs with biscuits, on croissants, in burritos. Where did it say just “eggs” with nothing else? I couldn't focus.

  “So, you’re from here. And you knew I was from here. When we were both up there.” It’s not that I was mad, but if I’d known, Idefinitely wouldn’t have flirted with him. Way too risky.

  I looked up to find his eyes measuring me. “Yup.” That’s it. No explanation. Interesting.

  I could do that, measure him with a look. I kept looking. The first one to break eye contact loses, right?

  Even if I lose, I win, sighed Lovesick.

  “Are you ready to order?” Saved by the waitress.

  Matt ordered one of those huge meals that I frankly can’t believe one person can consume alone. I asked if I could have two scrambled eggs with cheese, even though I couldn't find it on the menu. No toast. No bacon. Just eggs.

  Matt looked at me like I was crazy. “I take you to the best breakfast place in town and you want plain eggs you could have at home?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I asked for cheese.” Brilliant. Bravo.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you one of those girls who pretends not to eat in front of people?”

  I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Do you remember how many s’mores I ate on vacation?”

  He grinned and leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I can’t count that high.”

  I playfully smacked his knuckles with my knife.

  “Fine, I’ll have the quiche, please,” I said to the waitress. She took our order and left. “But don’t complain when we can’t eat all of this food you’re buying.”

  “You think I can’t eat mine and yours, too? I’d protect my plate if I were you.”

  That’s when I decided to just relax and enjoy breakfast. No big deal. We lived in the same town. Yes, we flirted shamelessly for an entire weekend, but that was ages ago. (Okay, two weeks in real time, but it seemed like longer.) We were both adults. We could have a mature relationship working in proximity to each other.

  So I decided not to flirt with him. Not vacation flirting anyway. Not the all-out-because-I’m-leaving-tomorrow kind of flirting. Not that I didn’t want to appear cute and funny. I laughed when he was funny and argued when he was wrong. Very normal. Very non-flirting.

  Very intoxicating.

  By the end of our meal, I was about as relaxed as I could get under the circumstances. I’d eaten, laughed, (been ogled, let’s not forget that), and basically had a great morning.

  As I raised my coffee to finish the last swallow, I happened to look out the window. A tall-ish guy with sandy brown hair and a tennis build was walking past.

  No way.

  He walked with the grace that comes from working out at the gym for two hours a day, four times a week, and playing tennis and racquetball besides.

  His clothes were the “look at me” kind that make you look in the beginning and make you sick at the end.

  No freaking way!

  A moment later, a red Beamer pulled onto the street.

  My hand started shaking. The coffee cup clattered against my plate as I tried to set it down without dropping it.

  “Guy in the white sun suit?”

  “Tennis whites,” I corrected automatically. Dirk liked to call the white shirts and shorts “tennis whites.” My voice came out in an unnatural monotone. Like it was dead. The way I suddenly felt inside. Again.

  “I thought I saw him looking.”

  I was taking deep breaths of air. Deep calming breaths.So not calm.

  “I have to go to the ladies room,” I whispered and tried to get out of the booth. I tripped and Matt grabbed my elbow to steady me.

  “Syd—”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I won’t throw up. I won’t throw up. I’m okay.

  I kept repeating it and breathing deeply. Or trying anyway. I felt like I couldn’t catch a breath. Okay, seriously, what does it matter? He dumps me. I don’t see him for five months. Then he catches me on a date.

  It’s not a date!

  Itisa date and I’m glad he saw me. Laughing! And having a good time. Agreat time!

  Breathe.

  You’re fine.

  I stood in a bathroom stall, leaning against the wall, grateful no one else was around. I didn’t realize how badly shaken I was until I felt a few drops f
all from my chin onto my collarbone. I wiped my face. I wasn’t crying. It was shock. After a few minutes, I felt calmer.

  I left the stall and splashed water on my face. Definitely calmer. I patted my eyes and removed the makeup smudges with a paper towel. See? Doing fine. I let out a big breath. This is a good thing.

  I took one more cleansing breath, blew it out pursed lips, and went back to the table. I’m fine. I’ll nod and smile and laugh it off. Perfectly fine.

  “That him?” Matt asked.

  I nodded, meeting his eyes for a microsecond. I smiled briefly and picked up my coffee cup, then set it down again. I might be feeling better, but I’d lost any appetite.

  “I could take him,” Matt said matter-of-factly.

  I burst out laughing. He grinned, and then really, I feltmuch better.

  CHAPTER 11

  “SO THEN what happened?” Emily waited breathlessly on the other end of the phone that night.

  “Matt asked if I wanted to go for a walk. So we drove down to Lighthouse Park and—”

  “Separately or together?”

  I giggled. “Together. In his truck. And we walked around on the beach for a while in front of the lighthouse.” I fingered a pretty shell Matt had picked from the sand for me.

  Emily sighed. “How romantic.”

  I laughed. “It was eleven o’clock in the morning and there were dozens of people down there. But yeah, it was…nice. Wonderful.” I dropped from a sitting position on my couch and fell onto my back. I stared at the ceiling and thought about walking hand-in-hand on the beach with a handsome, funny man I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “I’m so happy for you, Syd. Really. I told you life would get better.”

  “Speaking of which, tell me about last night. How’d it go?”

  Now it was Emily’s turn to go all breathless and dreamy. “Oh, he’sso sweet and charming and gallant and handsome and — I think I’m going to die of happiness.”

  Her melodrama made me laugh. I’d never seen her like this. “So how many children are you going to have?” I teased.

  “Two,” she replied with a sigh.

  “Emily!” Boy, she’d been hit hard. We giggled some more.

  Monday, I’ll stop thinking about him so much. Monday, I’ll start acting like an adult, a professional. Monday, it’s back to work, and that means friendly but no flirting.

  I hope Monday never comes, whispered Lovesick.

  But tomorrow did come. And it brought with it the spawn of hell.

  “HE’S back.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I looked up to find Carmen from the front desk hovering.

  “He’s back. Dirk’s here.”

  For crying out loud. I looked at her like she was out of her mind, which I sincerely hoped she was. “Dirk Schneider? My…”

  It’s because he saw me Saturday with Matt. He’s decided he hasn’t ruined my life enough yet. Dammit!

  Carmen looked at me with a mixture of pity and apprehension. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, it’s not like I forgot to give him back his key,” I muttered. Several really bad words went through my head. It was so tempting to ask Carmen to do my dirty work for me.

  So tempting.

  I thought of Matt’s “I could take him.” Well, okay, I could take him, too.

  I got up and walked to the front. I started going for the “regal” look, nose in the air, too busy to be bothered with him, then decided “professional” was more the thing. I wouldn’t be upset in any way. No room for him to push my emotional buttons.

  “Hello, Dirk,” I said. Cool, professional, unruffled. “How can I help you?” See? I’m good at this.

  “Sydney.” Dirk turned from a painting on the wall — Gorman, I think. He walked over to within a foot of me. I wanted to back away, reclaim my personal space, but I held my ground. I didn’t want to, but I did.

  You go, girl, said Sergeant Pride.Show him your backbone.

  Dirk took a deep breath, like he was preparing himself. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry and that we should get back together.”

  Holy crap…

  Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!

  No shit, Sherlock.

  The voices in my head were an overwhelming sea of noise. I thought I might faint for a moment.

  “What do you think?” Dirk stood there in his pale green golf shirt and unwrinkled khakis, hands in his pockets, head to one side, looking at me with a tiny half smile on his face.

  It was his classic “aren’t-I-cute-so-do-whatever-I-ask” Dirk look. He had it perfected. And apparently it worked on more women than just me.

  Thankfully, I’ve come to hate that look.

  “Please leave.”

  Wow, impressive. So cool. So brief.

  “Come on, Sydney.” He notched up the smile a few watts. I never noticed before that perfect teeth are really not that attractive. They look fake. Huh. Interesting.

  I raised my eyebrows at him and looked toward the door.

  “I’ll pick you up after work and we’ll have dinner and talk. How about six?”

  “How about I call the police?” Ooh, nice one. Normally, I would’ve thought of that ten minutes later.

  Unfortunately, Dirk wasn’t easily put off. I knew that, which is why the complete silence from him since Valentine’s Day had been so hard. I didn’t expect him to vanish. But I didn’t like the new reappearing trick either.

  “Okay, I’ll call you and we can pencil each other in for lunch.”

  “Carmen, do you know the non-emergency number for the police?”

  “I’ll look it right up,” she said. I heard her tapping her keyboard.

  “It’s great seeing you again, Syd.” Dirk took a step back. “I’ll call you.”

  He turned toward Carmen and gave her the full effect of his charm. “Nice seeing you again, Carmen.” He waved and was out the front door a moment later. Carmen glared at his back.

  I watched the BMW pull away, trying to figure out how I felt. Well, triumphant, for one thing. At least I should feel triumphant. We’d just ousted the little bastard with no blood, no tears, and no police.

  I took a deep breath and smiled at Carmen. “Well, there we go.”

  I turned around and nearly ran into Perry, my boss. My fairly large boss. My boss with a thundercloud over his head. Bye-bye, triumph. I guess Dirk was more scared of Perry than of me or the police. Well, hey, it’s nice to have friends looking out for you.

  I waited for Perry to say something. He knew all about my problems with Dirk. More than a boss should, but Perry and his wife had become friends over the last couple years. I’m pretty sure it was the “friend” part, not the “boss” part, that was reacting. A muscle twitched in his jaw. No wonder Dirk was scared. Perry squeezed my shoulder and walked back to his office. I’d never seen him so angry. Yikes.

  Carmen practically tip-toed over and handed me a sticky note. “You might need this later,” she said quietly.

  On it was the number for the police.

  I sighed. I don’t watch soap operas. How in the heck was I supposed to live in one?

  THAT afternoon, while I was out looking at a property, I called Emily. She would never believe what was happening. When it went to voice mail, I left her a message to call me back immediately.

  I couldn’t believe the mess I was in. What was I supposed to do? Certainly not call the police. I could just see them arriving at my apartment with the crew fromCOPS in tow. “Domestic dispute” would be superimposed on the bottom of the screen. Dirk would see the camera and smile, give his business card to the police officers and apologize for the inconvenience.

  I, on the other hand, would have just woken up, with pillow hair, no makeup, and no shower.

  “We’re suggesting she see a therapist,” the cop would say into the camera. “No one can figure out why she wouldn’t want to be with a guy as great as Dirk here.” Wide view of the cop slapping Dirk on the back while Dirk waved at the camera. The cameram
an would get a close-up of his business card for the audience.

  No, I can’t call the police. Which means I can only bluff about it so many times. Which means I need a new plan.

  “My new plan,” I said aloud as I turned into the driveway of a nice little single-level home on 9th Street, “is to sell this house today.”

  I got out of my car and looked around for Todd and Rosie Slocum. I recognized their Chevy Malibu next to the curb. They were around my age, late twenties, married almost two years and about to have their first child. They needed a first house to go with it. Preferably before the baby came.

  Motivated buyers. You can’t ask for more than that.

  I walked to the back yard. Not there. I knew they weren’t inside because I had the key. Huh.

  Maybe they’d walked around the block. I’d told them to check out the neighborhood if they arrived before I did.

  I looked over my notes. This was a great starter home. Three bedrooms, two baths, sunny kitchen, large backyard, two-car garage. And the price was right.

  I heard laughter and looked up. Todd and Rosie were walking up the street, hand in hand. Rosie’s other hand was on her stomach. Her quite large stomach. Yeah, they needed to make a decision.

  I unlocked the door and, after we exchanged pleasantries, I ushered them in. We entered a tile foyer separated from the living room by a half-wall. A roomy closet opened behind the front door. A fireplace was in the front corner of the living room next to a huge picture window.

  I could love this house.

  Don’t think about it. You don’t have enough money yet.

  Soon. And you’ll find a house even better than this one.

  We walked through the living room, across thick Berber carpet, and into the kitchen, tiled like the foyer. There was a large space to the left to put a dining table. An antique dish cabinet would look perfect in the corner, I told them. A sliding glass door opened onto a patio and a lush green backyard.

  A wide counter separated the dining room and kitchen. The tiled counter was U-shaped — plenty of room for cooking and baking. Lots of counter space meant there were lots of cabinets above and below.

  Back through the dining room, a short hall opened into the rest of the rooms. A large “mud room” opened on the right with space for a washer and dryer and another door to the back patio. Two small bedrooms on the left, separated by a bathroom. Then the master bed and bath in the back corner. For a small house, it was spacious.