Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

by Erynn Mangum

  He frowns at me. “That was quite a run-on sentence.”

  “So see? Without me, none of this would be happening.”

  “You promise you won’t cause mental problems in either one of them?”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a scout, Laurie.”

  “But I ate the cookies, so that sort of counts.” I smile at him. “Don’t tell, please, Brandon? Believe me, it’s under control.”

  He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Remind me why I keep you around.”

  “Because you love me.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Because you can’t live without me.”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “Because life would be boring, gray and dull, and you’d sit in this office every day twiddling your thumbs.”

  He straightens and walks me to the door. “You’ve got a client waiting, Laurie.”

  “Promise you’ll keep your hands out of it?” I ask as he shoves me out the door.

  “Fine.”

  Slam!

  “Hey,” Hannah greets me when I turn from waving at my clients as they leave.

  “Hey.”

  “What are you doing for lunch?”

  “I don’t know. Can you hand me my wallet?”

  She digs around in my backpack and emerges with it.

  I open it. Three dollars. Wow. All the money I have to my name. At least in cash.

  “I only have three dollars,” I tell her.

  “‘Are we very poor, Lizzie?’” she asks, opening her purse.

  “‘With Father’s estate entailed away from the female line, we’ve little but our charms to recommend us,’” I reply, tucking the bills back in my wallet.

  Brandon walks up, making a face. “What?”

  “Can I have a raise?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Oh. Well, can I have five dollars?”

  “Why?” He pulls his billfold from his back pocket.

  “Because I’m poor.” I sniff sadly. Blink a few times.

  “‘Poor and perfect. With eyes like the sea after a storm . . .,’” Hannah quotes.

  Brandon hands me a five-dollar bill. “You guys watch too many movies.”

  “Thanks.” I tuck the money in my back pocket.

  Hannah grins at him. “You can learn a lot about life from movies.”

  “Like what?” His voice is filled with unbelief.

  “Like how to survive the Fire Swamp.” She grabs her purse. “Bud’s, Laurie?”

  I shrug. Grease, batter, and more grease? “Sure.”

  “Hey, bring me back a hamburger,” Brandon calls.

  “Do you have money?” My palm is extended and open in the gesture of mercenary friendship.

  “Lauren.” There’s danger riding on his tone.

  “Acts 4:32. And I quote, ‘All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had.’” I smile.

  “I wouldn’t push it.” Hannah pulls me out the door into the intensely cold air. “That’s a Bible verse?” she asks.

  “Yep.” I admit I’m rather thrilled I could recall that verse so easily. My devotions are paying off. And not just in my memorization skills. The more time I spend in my devotions, the more the tight feeling in my stomach fades.

  “So the blind dates are ready to go, I think.” I change subjects and shove my arms through my coat sleeves as we hurry down the sidewalk. The atmosphere is glacial and seeping into my bones.

  “You do realize that we sent them to the same place,” Hannah says slowly.

  My teeth are shivering. “Oh, Honey.” I yank my collar up to the crown of my head. “You are such a novice.”

  “Why did we send them to the same place?”

  “Because then they have the pleasure of staring at each other out with a different guy or girl for the evening.”

  Hannah opens the door to Bud’s, a welcome rush of warm, greasy air overtaking us. “You’re brutal.”

  I accept the comment for the compliment it is. “I need to call and get their tables arranged.”

  Mikey comes from around the back and smiles at us. “Hiya, Laur. Hannah.”

  “Hey, Mikey.” I stare up at the menu suspended above the counter.

  Mikey follows my gaze. “What are you looking at?”

  “The menu.”

  “You’re looking at the menu?” he asks, dubious. “Why?”

  “To see what I want, Mikey. Isn’t that what a menu’s for?”

  Mikey looks at Hannah with his brows raised. Hannah shrugs at him.

  “Yeah, but, Laurie, you come here every day,” he says slowly.

  “Good for your business, I suppose.”

  He spreads out his hands. “Haven’t you memorized the menu by now?”

  “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll have two hamburgers, two Dr. Peppers, and two orders of onion rings.”

  “Tack another burger and a drink on there,” Hannah says.

  He does. “Eleven bucks.”

  “Even?” My mouth drops.

  “Yep, we started adding tips into the order. Too many customers were skimping on them.”

  I roll my eyes, and we pool our money to pay. “Such service.”

  “Such customers.” He grins at me and hands me a greasy bag. “See you tomorrow, Laurie. Bye, Hannah.”

  I step back into the frigid outdoors and thank my father’s DNA for making me an indoorsy person. The cold seeps between the stitches on my coat and into my flesh. I shiver uncontrollably. I can feel my fingernails ice over, and I know I’m morphing into that acorn-loving creature from Ice Age.

  Hannah, meanwhile, is completely oblivious to the fact that she is now outside and the temperature has dropped from a comfortable seventy degrees to a hypothermia-inducing twenty-eight.

  “So you were saying?” She pulls one of my onion rings from the bag, slowly sauntering down the sidewalk.

  “A . . . b . . . o . . . u . . . t . . . w . . . h . . . a . . . t?” I shake through my chattering teeth.

  “About getting the tables arranged?”

  “W . . . a . . . i . . . t . . . a . . . m . . . i . . . n . . . u . . . t . . . e.”

  I run the rest of the way to the studio, throw open the door, drag Hannah inside, and shut it.

  “BRR!” I yell, hopping around while trying to keep frostbite from forming on my toes.

  Hannah’s mouth is halfway open, a wrinkle between her eyebrows.

  Brandon pokes his head out of his office. “Laurie, shut up!”

  His door bangs closed.

  Hannah pushes me around her desk, sits me down in the chair, and turns on the portable heater by my feet. “Sit still,” she commands.

  Five minutes later I’m assured my toes did not contract frostbite and I will live to see another day.

  I’m telling you, miracles happen.

  “Okay.” Hannah sits on top of her desk and pulls out lunch. “About arranging tables.” She peeks back at Studio One. The door is closed. “Think it’s Ruby in there?”

  I nod. “I’ll call JACK from Vizzini’s,” I say in a whisper. “He owes me anyway.”

  Hannah waves her hamburger at me. “Good idea, Laurie.”

  Ruby comes out of Brandon’s office, yawning. “Hey, girls.” She flops into one of the chairs in front of Hannah’s desk.

  “Hey, who is in Studio One?” I ask.

  She glances at the closed door. “Ty, I think.”

  “Oh.” I take another bite. “I didn’t know he was in today.”

  “Just got in, actually. He had a lot of snow at his place.” She squints out at the weather.

  “Oh.”

  Ruby eyes the hamburgers enviously. “It is lunchtime, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hannah digs into the bag. “Here.”

  Ruby takes Brandon’s hamburger with a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “Um . . . but . . . uh,” I stutter, trying to swallow.<
br />
  Hannah shoots me a look that says, Be quiet!

  Apparently she is going to make Brandon walk outside, brave the weather straight from March of the Penguins, and get his own hamburger.

  I bite back a smile with my burger.

  “Can you at least give me a clue about who the date is with?” Ruby wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Nope,” Hannah says. “Hey, have you ever seen Pride and Prejudice?”

  Ruby shakes her head slowly. “No, but I’ve heard Laurie quote it enough.”

  I shrug. “‘Well, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man of good fortune must be in want of a wife.’”

  “‘What a fine thing for our girls!’” Hannah shouts excitedly.

  “No more, please,” Ruby says.

  “You asked.” I smile at her. She is eating a hamburger — not a Slim Fast bar — for lunch! If anyone is in doubt that love changes people, they need only look at Ruby.

  The bell over the door chimes and the three of us reenact the Little Women scene — we all look up in unison to see who could be calling.

  Ryan grins at us. “Grease is on today’s menu, I suppose.” He holds up his own bag from Bud’s. “Can I join you?”

  “Please.” Ruby smiles for the first time that day, motioning toward the chair beside her. “Haven’t seen you today, Honey. How are you doing?”

  He settles into the chair, cradling the bag. “Oh fine.” He winks at me.

  Unexpectedly, my cheeks begin to heat.

  Darn that heater. I reach down and turn it off.

  “Hey, Laur.” He smiles cheerfully at me.

  “Hi, Ry.” I nod toward the bag. “I hope there’s two burgers in there.”

  “You are in luck. I bought enough for everyone.”

  “That was sweet,” I tell him.

  Little-kid-on-the-monkey-bars smile appears. “Why, thank you.”

  Brandon comes down the hall. “Got my burger, Nutsy?” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Oh hey, Ryan. These finances are slowly killing me.”

  I make a face at Ryan. His eyes twinkle. “Here you go, Brandon.” He hands him one of the greasy lumps from his bag.

  I like this guy better every time I see him.

  “So what’s up?” I ask Ryan, picking an onion off my burger.

  “Lunch break. Thought I’d eat somewhere where I knew the heat would be on.” He strips off his leather jacket. “It’s bitter cold out there.”

  “Straight from the South Pole,” I tell him.

  He smiles at me. “South Pole, huh?”

  “I heard Mexico is buried in avalanches.”

  “Poor little niños.” Ryan grabs a burger for himself.

  I dig around until I find an onion ring in my bag.

  Brandon frowns. “Didn’t you just take an onion off your burger?”

  I take a bite. “Yeah. So?”

  “So now you’re eating an onion ring?”

  “Observant,” I praise him.

  He exchanges a glance with Ryan, who shrugs. Brandon pats his shoulder. “Hope you know what you’re getting into, Ryan.”

  “I don’t think he does. Better keep patting,” I say.

  Ryan closes his eyes.

  Ruby is back to staring at the scenery outside. Ryan watches his sister, frowning in confusion. He looks at me, eyebrows slightly raised.

  I smile outright then. Ryan has not been told of Friday’s encounter, it seems.

  I will have fun embellishing!

  Chapter Twenty

  “So then he kissed her.” I lean over the table.

  Ryan’s mouth drops open. “He kissed her?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wait, wait.” He waves his hands. “I thought you were eavesdropping through the door.”

  “We were.”

  He frowns. “So how do you know he kissed her?”

  “There was this big, long silence, and then both of them gasped and he apologized.”

  “What do you know,” he mutters, mouth open again in shock. “Nick Amery?”

  “That’s the one.” I nod proudly.

  We sit in Vizzini’s waiting for our dinner, having already consumed the entire basket of breadsticks.

  JACK comes by with the water pitcher. Holds it with two hands as he refills our glasses.

  “Could we get more breadsticks?” Ryan asks him.

  “Sure.” He leaves as fast as he came.

  “Just once?” Ryan asks suddenly.

  I blink. “Just once what?”

  “He kissed her just once?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Right there is when she found us. We ran to Bud’s.”

  “Like the brave girls you are.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  He fiddles with the cranberry-colored napkin. “So he could have kissed her again.”

  “Yeah, sure he could have. That’s the good news. Apparently the two dates they’ve had since then have been duds. But don’t worry. It’ll work out.” Best if Ryan doesn’t know about my meddling streak right now, I think.

  “Hmm.” His mouth is in a straight line, his forehead creased.

  “Ryan.” I tap his arm. “It’s okay, you know. Nick’s a good guy.”

  “I don’t know him, though.”

  “So get to know him.”

  “How?”

  JACK brings the basket, gulps, and leaves.

  “I don’t know.” My expertise does not extend to male bonding. “Go play something with him.”

  His mouth curls. “Play something? Like Frisbee?”

  I glare. “Like basketball.”

  “Laur, it’s twenty degrees outside.”

  “They make indoor courts, you know.”

  He frowns as he thinks, pulling a breadstick from the green cloth holding the heat in. “Guess we could do that.”

  A girl in a red shirt comes out with two plates. “Spaghetti?”

  “Here,” Ryan says.

  She sets my ravioli in front me. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “Don’t think so,” Ryan answers.

  “Have a nice dinner.”

  Ryan holds out his hands. “Want me to say the blessing?”

  “Sure.” I take his hands.

  He prays a short prayer, smiles, and squeezes my hands. “Thanks for coming to dinner with me, Laurie.”

  “Thanks for asking.”

  I begin hacking into the ravioli, checking the filling inside each pastry square. Ryan is apparently watching. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “Making sure they gave me the cheese ravioli. One time they messed up and gave me the spinach. It was yucky.”

  He twirls his fork on his plate. “You ate it?”

  “One or two pieces.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t realize it was spinach.”

  Ryan starts choking on his spaghetti. “Oh, Laurie.”

  “What? I thought maybe the cheese had molded.”

  He stares at me, disgusted. “Remind me never to eat your cooking. Ever.”

  “Hey, I’m learning.” I fork off a bite. “For example, expiration dates aren’t guesses. They should be obeyed.”

  Ryan’s not listening. “So Nick’s a good guy?” he asks again.

  I have to laugh.

  Ryan drops me back by the studio an hour later. “Have a good night, Laurie.”

  “See you.” I unlock the Tahoe. He lets me drive ahead of him out of the parking lot.

  Dad is waiting when I get home. A fire roars in the fireplace. He sits in his favorite chair, feet encased in moccasins, a book open on his lap.

  I sink into the sofa across from him. “Hi, Dad.”

  He smiles at me. “Did you have a good time, Laurie-girl?”

  “Yeah, I did.” I shed my coat and drop my backpack on the floor, stretching. “We went to Vizzini’s.”

  Dad closes the book, marking his place with his finger. “What a surprise,” he says dryly.

  I grin
at him. “Three weeks until the fishing trip.”

  “Two and three-fourths weeks.”

  “Have we made a list of what to bring yet?”

  Dad picks up a yellow legal pad lying on the table beside him.

  “What a surprise,” I parrot, smirking.

  “You need to learn to respect your elders,” Dad says and grins.

  I take the pad from him. Blankets, tea, socks, small heater, several mugs.

  The list goes on for two pages. “Very thorough, Father.”

  “Thank you, Daughter.” He leans back in his chair. “I suppose we’ll need to bring the cell phone since you will want to keep in touch with Ryan.”

  I can tell he is prying. Dad’s not exactly what you would call subtle.

  “The cabin doesn’t have a phone?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Yeah, I’d bring the cell. If only for emergencies. You know. An attack by an angry codfish and the like.”

  “I guess you and Ryan could always write letters.”

  Here’s what I am: Blatantly merciless.

  Poor Dad.

  “We may not have to.” I stretch again. “Over dinner we talked about just eloping and being done with it. So if that happens before the end of this month, then I guess Ryan will just go with us.”

  Dad blinks several times. Opens his mouth and closes it twice.

  “Laurie —”

  I start giggling. “Gotcha, Dad!”

  He sinks lower into his chair. “What did I do?” he asks the ceiling fan.

  I decide I will leave Dad and the fan blades to figure it out.

  “I’m going to bed, Dad. Good night. Love you.” I stand and wrap my arms around his neck in a hug.

  “Love you too, Laurie-girl.”

  I trip up the stairs, throw my backpack in the direction of my squishy chair, grab my pajamas, and head for the bathroom.

  Twenty minutes later, I fall onto the bed with a moan. Dragging my Bible over, I flip it open. I finished with Ephesians, and I’m almost through Philippians. I start reading at chapter 4. Verses 4 and 5 catch my attention: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.”

  I frown slightly. Gentleness. Not one of my strong points. And why does it follow the command to be gentle with “the Lord is near”? I bite my bottom lip as I consider it.

  Maybe it has something to do with the Ephesians passage about living not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.