by Leah Atwood
“Absolutely.” She winked and handed him a business card. “The website is on there. I’ll have you written about by Monday.”
“I’ve never been a celebrity. Should I be prepared to hire a publicist?”
Her tinkling laugh filled the air. “I think you’re safe to wait a while.”
After the check had been paid, there was nothing left to keep them at the table. He debated internally about asking for her number. He’d enjoyed her company immensely, but he’d also just broken up with Mariah. Jumping into another relationship, even casually dating, wasn’t a wise idea, so he decided to let the evening remain what it was—a pleasant interlude at a time he’d needed a distraction.
Besides, what were the odds of tonight’s chance encounter leading him to the one?
Chapter Four
Although my evening out didn’t result in a future date or even a phone number, it was a night I don’t regret. I had a lovely dinner with a man whose company I genuinely enjoyed. If you pop online to read this, Trevor, thank you for sharing your table with me. And to each of you reading this, I encourage you not to let fear or shyness motivate your choices. Take a little risk, and enjoy the outcome.
Lauren reread the final paragraph of her post, satisfied with the ending. She started at the beginning and went through the entire article again, revising as she went to ensure the words conveyed what she wanted. It was a lighthearted post, with a touch of wisdom added throughout. She read through once again, fixing the spelling and grammatical errors, then hit publish.
Would Trevor read it?
She couldn’t deny she’d been disappointed he hadn’t asked for her number, even if she understood. They’d hit it off, had spent a terrific meal together, and she knew it wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t her being arrogant, but she’d replayed those two hours in her mind repeatedly since Friday night. She’d met many people who’d convinced themselves of things that didn’t exist. Thus she had questioned her conclusion, but no matter how objectively she examined the night, her mind didn’t change.
It came down to bad timing. Had she met Trevor on a different night, one other than when he’d broken up with his girlfriend, the situation could have turned out differently. Now, she’d never know—a fact she’d lamented the last two days.
There was a silver lining. She’d given him a business card and told him her blog address, so he had a way to contact her if he wanted to badly enough. Which was a depressing thought because the ball was left in his court. She had no means of getting in touch with him and was driving herself crazy checking her email on the off chance he’d sent her a message.
Get over it, Lauren. You’re wasting too much energy thinking about a man who wasn’t meant to be. Follow your own advice and enjoy the outcome. So what if he hadn’t asked for her number? Had she really believed she’d meet her future spouse that night, anyway? No. The odds weren’t in her favor. Statistics said she’d have to try it more than once to meet the right person.
If only she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed the time with Trevor. She didn’t even know his last name—or any other factual information about him for that matter—but knew he was witty, charming, and could banter with the best. He was honest—she could hear it in his tone—and respectful. Easy to look at, as well, especially when the corners of his eyes crinkled every time he smiled, which was often.
She jumped when the doorbell rang, another sign she was devoting too many brainwaves to Trevor. She’d never expected one experiment to have this large of an impact on her.
Still wrestling to put her thoughts aside, she left her desk to answer the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw her best friend Chrissy on the other side and slapped her forehead. How had she forgotten they were meeting this afternoon to plan the community game night? And she was supposed to order Indian food to be delivered.
She opened the door and let Chrissy through. “I hope you’re not too hungry. I haven’t ordered the food yet.”
Chrissy waved a hand. “I’m good. Fatima’s birthday is today, and she brought all the office staff a piece of her cake right before I left. Of course, I had to eat mine immediately.”
“I’ll have to tell her ‘happy birthday’ when I see her. Is she working today?”
“No, but she’ll be in tomorrow.” Chrissy laid out a notebook and folder on the kitchen table and frowned. “She might be leaving soon. The new complex across town offered her the assistant property manager position for a higher salary than what she makes here as the manager.”
“Do you think she’ll take it? I’d miss seeing her in the office when I stop in to chat with you or pay my rent.”
“I don’t know. On one hand, it would open the door for me to move up here from assistant property manager, but on the other, she’s a great boss.” Chrissy pulled a paper from the folder. “She loves the idea of the game night, and will let us use the meeting room for free since it’s for the community, but you need to fill out this form to keep on file.”
Lauren took the paper and scanned the print—a typical release form. “I’ll fill it out before you leave.”
“Sunday afternoons in the office are slow, so I started jotting notes.” Chrissy grabbed her notebook and flipped open the cover, revealing a full page of ink. “Did you get a chance to plan any after church?”
“Umm…” Glancing down at the floor, Lauren avoided Chrissy’s gaze. “I was busy working on my blog post.”
An unmistakable sigh came from Chrissy. “You’re the one who insisted we pull this together by Saturday.”
“I know, and we will.” Lauren looked up and gave her a confident smile.
“Then we should get busy.” Chrissy’s irritation fled her face.
Despite their differences in approach—Chrissy was detail oriented and planned contingencies for contingencies, whereas Lauren bordered on impulsive—little could come between their lifelong friendship.
“Let me call in the food first, then we’ll knock this out. What do you want? Butter chicken still?”
Chrissy nodded. “And an order of samosas, please.”
“I’ll be right back.” She went to her room and grabbed the phone off the charger.
Thumbed through her contacts until she found the number for her favorite Indian restaurant where she ordered delivery from every other week at minimum. Once the order was placed, she rushed to the kitchen, snagging a notebook and pen off her desk on the way. They had forty minutes for a marathon planning session before the food arrived.
When she sat down, Chrissy slid her notebook across the table. “This is what I have so far. Take a look and tell me what you think.”
Lauren read through the list, impressed with the work Chrissy had put into the event already. “Do you think we should include all the games, or narrow it down?”
“We definitely need to trim the list, but those were to give you ideas.” Chrissy leaned over and pointed. “I divided the games into categories based on the objective.”
“Objective?” Lauren’s head swam—she’d envisioned a simple event to bring people together.
“Is the goal to get out and meet people in general, or find a special someone? Or simply an event to bring the community together.”
“All the above.” She paused to think more about her answer. “True, it’s for my blog special on unique ways to meet a significant other, but why not take it a step further? Constant internet access and smartphones have made us a society that doesn’t connect face to face. That can’t be healthy.”
“I agree.” Chrissy pulled the notebook back to her side of the table and scribbled a note. “Even the Bible speaks a lot about the benefits of fellowship.”
A sense of sadness and regret descended over her, and she frowned. “I’m ashamed to admit that I only know two of my neighbors’ names, and one is only because we used to work in the same building until I left to work from home writing full time.”
“I know what you mean. Until I started working here five years ago, I didn’
t know any of the families who lived near me. We’d smile and wave at each other occasionally, but that was the extent of it.”
Added purpose gave Lauren new energy for the project. Excitement coursed through her as she opened her notebook and held her pen. “Time for that to change.”
Chapter Five
Trevor beat his head against the passenger seat headrest and growled.
“Just email the woman. She obviously got into your head.” Dan Wilson, Trevor’s good friend, steered the truck into the baby superstore parking lot.
“What’s the point? It’s too soon after breaking up with Mariah.”
“That’s the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard.” Dan backed up to the loading area for site-to-store shipping.
“Coming from the man who lost his last girlfriend because he started dating her on the rebound?” Trevor leveled his gaze with a scowl. “It’s only been two weeks. Even I know you don’t jump into a potential relationship immediately after ending a three-year relationship.”
“Sarah broke up with me, and I was still in love with her when I started dating Ellen.” Dan shot the glare right back. “Big difference between the situation with you, Mariah, and this other girl.”
Hearing her called the other girl gnawed on his nerves. It sounded tawdry. “Lauren. Her name’s Lauren.”
“See, you’re getting defensive over nothing.” Dan rose his brows and shoved Trevor’s shoulder. “Admit it or not, you’ve got it bad.”
He wouldn’t admit it because it wasn’t true. At least not until he admitted it, which he wouldn’t. Ah, the same hamster wheel I’ve been on for a week. Time to change the subject. “Tell me again why I’m helping you out when I could be home binging on Netflix?”
Dan grinned. “Because you’re my friend, and my sister’s like a sister to you, too.”
“I’m doing this for Annabelle, not you, just to be clear.”
“Either way, I appreciate it. She’s determined to have the nursery done this weekend, but Steve got called offshore and won’t be back until next week.”
“When’s the baby due?” He squinted his eyes, trying to remember.
“Not until the first week of May, but you know Annabelle. If you’re not early, you’re late.”
They exited the truck, climbed the ramp, then Dan rang the buzzer on the door.
“Just a crib, right?” He’d been joking about Netflix, but he did have work he wanted to finish tonight. Exciting night ahead for me.
Dan snorted. “Crib, changing table, and dresser. All of which we also get to assemble.”
“If I didn’t respect Steve so much, I wouldn’t be doing his job.” Trevor chuckled to let Dan know he didn’t really mind.
“He called me to apologize for the inconvenience while waiting for the helicopter, then we had a good laugh about keeping my sister happy.”
A woman opened the door. “Here to pick up?”
“Yes.” Dan handed her the receipt.
“I need to see your I.D. please,” she asked in a no-nonsense voice.
“My sister called earlier to inform the manager I would be picking up the items instead of her husband, Steve Dupre.” Dan pulled out his wallet and showed the lady his driver’s license.
She glimpsed at his license then at his face. “I’m the one who took that call. Your items will be out shortly.”
A strange feeling settled over Trevor, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He’d never lamented being nearly forty and unmarried, but visions of an imaginary family flashed through his mind. What would it be like to assemble furniture in preparation for his own child? By the time he had children, would he have the energy to keep up with them? He’d never worried before—he kept fit and ate a healthy, well-balanced diet for the most part.
Would that change unavoidably with age? Did one hit a certain age and then experience a drastic drop of energy? Was it different for everyone? What if he died young and only had a few years to be a husband and father?
Knowing his thoughts were spiraling out of control, he reined them in the best he could. He’d made a vow many years ago at a teen youth camp to not marry any woman unless he knew God had brought her to him. He’d almost messed up with Mariah, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. If God wanted him single still, then He had a reason for that.
The reminder helped take the edge off his unbalanced feelings, but it didn’t curb the loneliness crowding his heart.
***
Trevor saved his updates on the project then shut down his computer. He’d gotten home from Annabelle’s too late last night to finish his work, and he didn’t want it hanging over his head all weekend.
He went to the kitchen and stared into the fridge. What to eat for lunch? Nothing appealed to him. He opened the freezer and rummaged through the frozen meals he had. After a short internal debate, he chose leftover jambalaya he’d saved from the large pot he’d made last week.
His cooking skills had been used more in the past two weeks than in the last three years. He and Mariah had eaten out often, but now that they weren’t together, he’d lost his dining companion. Table for one didn’t have the same ring, no matter how inviting Lauren had made it sound. Occasionally he’d grab a pizza with friends, but they rarely sat down to eat somewhere other than a junk food joint. As tempting as it would be to grab pizza every night, he had to invest in himself with healthier options. Even the jambalaya, he’d made with healthier alternatives.
Hand on the microwave, he changed his mind. If he was going to eat, he wanted to enjoy the taste and nuking it took away the best flavors. He put a sauce pan on a stove burner, then ran the bowl under water to unfreeze the food from the edges. Once he was able, he dumped the jambalaya in the pot and let it simmer.
His favorite worship song rang from his phone. He glanced to see who was calling. Dan.
Sliding a thumb across the screen, he answered the call. “Hey, Dan. What’s up?”
“Are you busy?”
“Making lunch, but other than that no.”
“Can you come over when you’re done?” Dan sighed, but the tone of it sounded off. “The stereo system you set up for me isn’t working, and LSU has their spring game tonight.”
“Sure. Give me an hour, and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
Trevor ended the call and ate his lunch. Not until he drove into Dan’s apartment complex did he realize the LSU game was next weekend. Was Dan confused or was he up to shenanigans?
Knowing Dan, an avid LSU fan and known jokester, the answer wouldn’t make Trevor happy. What did he have planned? With Dan, one never knew. Only one way to find out.
He parked his sedan next to Dan’s truck and slid his phone and wallet into his pocket. Took a deep breath to brace for whatever surprise awaited him upstairs on the third floor. Two by two, he climbed the stairs. He wasn’t much for surprises—order was the name of his game.
Then again, Lauren had been unexpected, and their time together had been the most enjoyable of his recent memory. Put aside thoughts of her. You’re driving yourself crazy.
Dan opened the door before Trevor could knock. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”
“No problem.” Trevor looked over Dan’s shoulder for any signs of other company but saw no one. “However, the LSU spring game isn’t until next weekend, and I know you’re aware of that, so what’s the deal.”
Unrepentant guilt covered Dan’s expression. “We’re going to a social at the apartment’s community center.”
“Say what?”
“Come here.” Dan closed the door after Trevor stepped through, then grabbed a paper off the entry table against the wall. “This was crammed in my mail yesterday.”
Trevor reached for the flyer and scanned its contents, reading out loud. “Come meet your neighbors during an afternoon of old-fashioned fun.”
“Starts in thirty minutes.” Dan slapped his shoulder. “We’re going, buddy.”
“Huh?” The beginni
ng of a headache pressed against Trevor’s temples. “Why are you trying to torture me?”
Dan tipped his chin. “Look at the very bottom.”
His eyes shot to the edge of the page. Sponsored by Table for One. For more information, go to www.tableforone.us. Blood pumped through his heart at an increased rate. “It can’t be.”
“Oh, but it can.” An entertained smile spread over Dan’s face. “I called the office this morning. Turns out, your girl, Lauren, lives in this complex as well and is running the event.”
“I’m not going. She’ll think I’m stalking her.”
“What is it my sister always says? ‘Whatever.’ If she didn’t want you to find her, she wouldn’t have given you her card, and regardless, I live here and you’re my friend, so it makes sense for you to be there.” Dan’s head shook back and forth with disappointment. “When did you become such a wuss? What are you afraid of?”
Trevor jerked his head up. “Nothing.”
Dan crossed his arms and stared at him with raised brows, silently daring him to go.
“Fine, I’ll go.” The concession didn’t feel like defeat. A large part of him wanted to go and see Lauren again. This had to have been a God-given opportunity. What were the chances otherwise?
He looked down at his clothes. Nothing fancy, and a far cry from his dressed-up outfit when they’d eaten dinner together. Expecting to be working on electronics, he’d remained in his comfortable outfit from the morning—tan cargo shorts and a faded gray t-shirt. Even worse, he’d slipped on a pair of sandals, only a notch above flip flops. “I look more like a frat boy than a professional approaching middle-age.”
“You’re worse than a girl. There’s no law defining who can wear shorts and a t-shirt based on age. You’re dressed for a carefree Saturday afternoon, which is exactly what we’re going to have if you’ll get your head in gear.” Dan rolled his eyes. “If I wanted all this drama, I’d go visit Annabelle.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Well…” A smile reappeared on Dan’s face. “I’m just giving you a hard time, but it does prove my point that you have it bad for Lauren.”
