A Twist of Date (Better Date than Never)

by Hatler, Susan

  Then I shook my head. Matt was a philosopher, not a love guru. It shouldn’t matter what he thought of my relationship. Unfortunately, it was all I could think about.

  Chapter Two

  “Great class, Mel.” Kristen Moore stretched into a pike position after Zumba, and pressed her stomach down to her thighs. “This is the perfect start to my work day.”

  “Aww. That’s sweet of you, Kristen.” I dropped down onto the mat next to her. I’d met Kristen a couple months ago when she’d joined Totally Fit, and started taking my classes. She was smart, successful, and her new boyfriend definitely fell into the yumzy category. “How are things with Ethan?”

  A soft smile played at her lips. “We spent the weekend in San Francisco, and toured the Filoli estate while we were down there. Have you been?”

  “Nope.” Straddling my legs, I tilted over one side, feeling the tight pull in my hamstring. “Never heard of it.”

  Sitting up, she brought a heel to her inner thigh, then folded toward her knee. “It’s a historical country estate in Woodside from the early twentieth-century. The house is amazing, and the gardens are absolutely breathtaking. Definitely worth checking out.”

  I stretched my arms over my head, then leaned forward, wrapping my hands around me foot. “Sounds like a fun day trip. I’ll mention it to Brad.”

  A look I couldn’t read crossed her face. “Things are going well with you two?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” Despite my confident words, Matt’s comment still bugged me, and I had to force a smile. “Brad is a great guy, and I’m really happy.”

  Since Matt’s doubts about Brad flooded my mind throughout class, I felt the need to reaffirm I was excited about our relationship. Kristen didn’t seem to be buying it though, which figures since she’s a family therapist and trained at reading people.

  She straightened her spine, then crossed her legs. “Want to tell me what’s really going on?”

  Sitting up, I sighed. “My friend doesn’t think Brad’s right for me, and I value his opinion.”

  Her face remained blank. “Did he tell you why?”

  “Just that it’s a feeling he has about him.” I glanced toward the door, to make sure no lurking ears could hear us. “He also asked me out this morning.”

  “Ah, the plot thickens.” She leaned toward me. “What did you say?”

  “No, of course.” My cheeks heated, so I fiddled with the end of my ponytail. “I’m with Brad.”

  Her mouth curved upward. “What if you weren’t?”

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “You don’t understand. Matt sees lots of women. Another instructor at the gym here went out with him, then learned he was playing the field.”

  She seemed unfazed by my statement. “Were they exclusive?”

  My mouth opened halfway, then paused.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “How do you know he wouldn’t settle down with you?”

  My pulse quickened, and I shook my head. “Matt reads Plato, and I read People magazine.

  She shrugged. “Opposites attract all the time. Why not ask him? You said you value his opinion, so I assume he’d be honest with you. Plus, you’re blushing.”

  “Only because this is crazy talk.” I got to my feet, then started collecting my things. “I’m going out with an amazing guy, and tonight Brad and I are taking the next step.”

  She stood, then put a hand on my shoulder. “So long as Brad is who you really want.”

  My stomach clenched. “He is.”

  “Okay.” She pressed her lips together, then glanced at her watch. “I’d better hit the shower. I have an appointment at eight-thirty. Thanks again for the great workout.”

  “Sure.” I pasted on a smile, and wiggled my fingers in her direction. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

  As soon as she was out the door, I fell back onto the mat, our conversation running through my head. No way would I ask Matt to be exclusive with me. He certainly hadn’t wanted to with Erica, and she had guys falling for her all the time.

  Closing my eyes, I could almost feel him rubbing my hands, and my stomach warmed. No, it didn’t mean anything. Matt was just flirting with me, the way he did with practically every girl. Odd that he’d asked me out though. Why had Kristen pressed me about that?

  And why were my cheeks still on fire?

  ****

  Dinner at The Boat House in Old Sacramento had been utterly delicious, not to mention romantic. Then, Brad and I strolled back to my place, hopped on my bed, and we were currently sliding into second base. His mouth explored mine and I felt relieved to be with him—to not have to go through the roller coaster of dating anymore, and whether or not a certain guy would want to be exclusive with me.

  No, this was much easier.

  Brad ran his lips over my bare shoulder, then slipped his finger under the blue spaghetti strap down, sliding it down. Privacy between roommates didn’t happen often, but thankfully we hadn’t seen any signs of Patti when we’d come in. I crossed my fingers that she’d gone out for the evening, because things were about to progress to the next level.

  Time to tell Brad how I felt about him.

  “Brad.” My lips skimmed along his strong jawbone, and I whispered in his ear. “We’re going to be so happy.”

  He pulled back, and gave me a look that told me he was happy now. “Oh, babe. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  Cupping his face, I looked into his eyes, and nodded. “Believe me, I’m ready to take the next step, to make a commitment to each other.”

  His hands had reached around my back for the zipper, but he suddenly froze. “What’d you just say?”

  I forced a flirty smile since things had gone from hot to halt. “Just that this feels right. You and me. Like it could last.”

  “Uh . . .” He adjusted the way he was sitting, and sucked in a deep breath. “It sounds like you’re asking for a ring or something.”

  I giggled nervously. “Not a ring, but now would be a good time to say how you’re feeling about me. About us.”

  “Mel, you’re hot.” He eyed me up and down, then cleared his throat. “I thought we were having a good time.”

  I bit my lip. “Right. So, why would we want that end?”

  “Oh, man. I can’t believe we’re not on the same page.” He stood, adjusted his jeans, then bumped his fist against his broad chest. “I’m not a ball and chain guy. I thought I made that clear.”

  Uh, no. Or, I wouldn’t have wasted time envisioning our eventual wedding invitations this morning.

  I popped to my feet, and thrust my hands to my hips. “When did you supposedly make that clear?”

  He pulled the keys to his yellow Roadster out of his pocket, fingering them uncomfortably. “I’m sorry if I gave the wrong impression. You’re great, Mel. Really.”

  My jaw dropped as I watched him turn, then slip out the door. Straightening the straps on my dress, I hurried out of the bedroom and crossed the living room to where Brad was already turning the front door knob.

  I put my hand over his. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

  “No can do.” He shook his head, then stepped out onto the front walkway. When the door was only inches from closing, it stopped, then swung halfway open again and he popped his head back in. “I’ll, uh, see you at the gym.”

  The door shut in my face. My jaw tightened. Brad was so not yumzy.

  My hopes sank as I swiveled around, and slumped back against the door. I squeezed my eyes closed, racking my brain on how I could have been so off base with him.

  “That display was too pathetic for words,” a monotone female voice said.

  I jumped, then covered my heart with my hand. “Patti. I thought you weren’t home.”

  “Believe me, I wish I hadn’t been.” Patti stood in the kitchen, holding a mug. Judging by the her facial expression, she’d witnessed Brad’s hasty exit.

  I cursed the fact that she was a homebody.

  “Brad and I had this amazing ev
ening, then he literally raced out of here all because I asked where things were going with us.” Shaking my head, I bear-hugged myself, unable to believe I’d been let down. Again. “I thought he might be The One.”

  Patti’s short dark hair stuck out in all directions, her Salvador Dalí t-shirt was half tucked into black boxer shorts, and she raised a brow. “I hate to break this to you, Mel. But you think every guy’s The One.”

  My throat tightened. “No, I don’t.”

  Patti obviously wasn’t in a sympathetic mood at this late hour of the night—not that she would’ve been more compassionate at any other time of day. Expecting sympathy from Patti was like expecting a dog to meow.

  She raised her hand and counted on each finger. “Brad. Paul. Mike. Marcus—”

  “Everyone’s had relationships that don’t work out. So, what?” I pursed my lips as Matt’s words echoed through my head. “You think I’m just in love with being in love?”

  “Yes.” Patti’s brows scrunched as she yanked her short hair, so hard it was a wonder it didn’t all come out by the roots. “I can’t begin to describe how frustrating it is watching you do this to yourself.”

  My eyes widened. “I’m not doing anything to myself. Brad left me.”

  “Yeah, but you fall for each guy before you’ve even gotten to know him, Mel. Your focus is preventing him from leaving, not whether or not you really want to be with him.”

  At Patti’s harsh words, a tear slipped down my cheek. “Oh, my . . .”

  “It’s a definitive pattern.” Patti dropped her hands, took a breath, then reached for her mug again. “One you need to change.”

  “Apparently so.” I sniffed.

  “I love you, Mel.” Patti sounded uncharacteristically soft. “I don’t want to watch you go through this again.”

  “Neither do I.” I dropped onto our living room sofa, my eyes burning as I fought the tears back. Maybe I had too much of my mom in me to ever make a relationship work.

  Then, I shook my head. No way. Brad had left, not me. I was nothing like my mother. I peeked up at Patti who looked uncomfortable with my display of emotion.

  Finally, she came around the couch, sat, and awkwardly put her arm around me. “If it’s worth anything, I think you deserve better than that wannabe-Fabio anyway.”

  I leaned my head on her shoulder. “He was fun.”

  “So is a dog.” She shrugged, causing my face to bounce up and down against her. “But they’re less trouble.”

  I sat up, frowning. “I can’t live like you, and be a hermit the rest of my life.”

  Patti set her mug on the coffee table, then pointed an unpolished nail at me. “I date when the mood strikes, but you’ve gone through practically every single man in Sacramento.”

  “Not true.” I straightened my spine, thinking of Matt. He was single, lived in Sacramento, and gave me goose bumps at the faintest touch on my hands. Yumzy. Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts of Matt, and twisted to face Patti dead on. “You think you have all the answers?”

  She patted my head. “I can see the obvious.”

  Batting her hand away, I scoffed. “Well, if it’s so crystal clear to you, start making my dating decisions.”

  “Huh?”

  Ha. I’d shocked Patti speechless, which was practically impossible to do. “I’m clearly dating all wrong my way, so from now on I’ll follow your brilliant advice. Sound good?”

  Patti stood, then studied me, as if considering it. “Like you’d listen to me.”

  I pushed up off the couch and crossed my arms, challenging her. “I would.”

  Patti shook her head, dismissively. “Yeah, right.”

  My forehead creased. “I said I would listen, and I will. My word is my word.”

  Patti paced the room. “If I were to put in the work for you, I’d need to know you’d follow through.”

  The nerve of Patti not to trust my word. We’d been friends since junior high! But, whatever. I raised my right hand, anyway. “I do solemnly swear—”

  “Pfft. Get real.” She waved a hand in the air, then turned her back on me. “One hottie comes along, and you’d revert.”

  I paused, trying to picture the guy, and wondering if he could be husband material. Oh, man. When had my falling in love gear shifted into overdrive? I seriously did need help.

  “See?” She gave me a pointed look. “I’m willing to help you find the right man, but I need collateral to guarantee you’ll stick to my guidelines.”

  “Fine.” I followed her into my room, and scanned around. Nothing here but the dresser I’d had growing up, the mismatched nightstand with the paint peeling off, and the Target bookshelf holding stacks of People, US, and Cosmopolitan. Would Patti seriously hold my magazines ransom?

  “Aha!” Patti raised a finger in the air and nodded her spiky head. “Your car.”

  I gasped, picturing my beloved blue VW Beetle convertible that had less than five thousand miles on it. I’d babysat through my teens, and taught aerobics classes through my twenties to save every spare penny for that car.

  Betty the Beetle was the love of my life. She never let me down, took me anywhere I wanted to go with no complaints or manipulation, and never judged me. I couldn’t risk losing Betty. Come to think of it, did I really want Patti making my romance decisions? The last guy she’d dated had chanted for an hour before they went to bed.

  Patti guffawed. “See? You were never going to listen to me. So much for your word.”

  Oh, great. I had already given my word. I’d be acting like my mom if I backed out. “Fine.” Stomping out to the living room, I picked up my purse. “Where are my keys?”

  “Huh-uh. Not good enough.” Patti grabbed hold of my arm and whipped me around. “I want the title.”

  My heart stopped and I bit my bottom lip, hoping Patti couldn’t see the fear that was surely visible all over my face. “It’s in the box on my bookshelf.”

  My entire body went numb as Patti disappeared into my room, then came back a minute later with a small pink slip.

  “Sign it over to me.” She slapped it down on the coffee table along with a pen. “If you don’t follow my advice, and I mean to a T, you can kiss Betty good-bye.”

  With my left hand clutching my chest, I took the pen in my right and poised it over the slip of paper. I paused, knowing Betty—my only true ally—would be safe in Patti’s hands. Well, as long as I did what she said.

  I’d been friends with Patti for fifteen years and I trusted her completely. She may be rough around the edges, but she had my best interests at heart. Although, she wouldn’t hesitate to keep Betty if I failed to keep my end of the deal.

  Holding my breath—and hoping this was the correct decision—I swirled big loopy letters on the bottom line, signing my beloved Betty over to Patti Hartley.

  Patti looked way too satisfied as she picked up the pink slip, folded it, and pointed it at me. “You’ve got more balls than I thought, Melanie Porter.”

  Balls? I didn’t want balls. Unless they were Brad’s, that is. Tall, broad-chested, gorgeous Brad. I wanted him back. Now, I wanted Betty back, too.

  Even more, though, I wanted to find my soul mate. He had to be out there somewhere, and I certainly wasn’t having any luck on my own. Tearing my eyes from the piece of paper clutched in Patti’s hand, I stared up at her.

  She yawned, then covered her mouth. “It’s late. We’ll discuss the dos and don’ts of your love life over breakfast.” She headed for her room, then stretched and yawned again like a satiated feline. “Make that over lunch. I need time to get the good together.”

  Helpless to do anything else, I went back to my own room, threw myself down on my bed and hugged a pillow. It smelled like Brad’s minty-scented hair gel. My nostrils burned as I remembered my plan to buy him unscented gel for his birthday. But I couldn’t buy him new gel now. He was gone, and good riddance. If a man didn’t want to stick around, better to find out now rather than later.

  Besides, that
was the last time I’d date the wrong type of guy. By this twist of fate—or, I should say, this twist of date—I’d follow the star of singledom’s advice, which will lead me to Mr. Right.

  At least, I hoped.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, I maneuvered Betty backward into a tight parking spot outside Cherie’s Café in downtown Sac. After circling the block twice in search of parking, I was running late for my lunch with Patti, and determined to squeeze Betty into this rinky dink space no matter what.

  Turning the steering wheel in the opposite direction, I shoved the car into drive and inched forward, then thrust the gearshift into reverse again. As I spun the wheel the opposite way and rolled backward, my cell phone went off.

  Chirp! Chirp!

  While the car was still rolling, I noted the number, and jerked Betty to a halt. Throwing the gearshift into park, I groaned. “Oh, great. Just what I need right now.”

  I tapped the flashing green button on my cell, then mustered up false enthusiasm for my stepmother. “Hi, Janet!”

  “Melanie, sweetheart, must you shout?” Janet’s voice was laced with disapproval.

  Attempts to please Janet were futile, but I couldn’t seem to give up trying. Quitting was my mom’s thing, not mine.

  “Sorry.” I lowered my voice, then stepped out of the car. “Is this better?”

  “Much.”

  Long pause. Janet likes to make people wait. It’s her thing. That way, everyone knows how important she is. It is not a good idea to speak during these times. It only serves to aggravate Janet, which would be made apparent by a longer pause and then some reference to the fact that she’d been speaking—even if she hadn’t been.

  “Listen, sweetheart.” Short pause. “Your father and I would like to have you over for dinner tonight. Kaitlin has something important she’d like to share with the whole family.”

  The “whole family” consisted of the four of us. Why my stepmom referred to us so formally was beyond me. And what had the magnificent Kaitlin done now? Sneezed? I, on the other hand, could be on my deathbed and would be lucky to get served a TV dinner. But such was life with a can-do-no-wrong stepsister. Fact was, they were family and Janet made Dad happy. “I teach class at six-thirty this evening, but can be at your house by quarter to eight.”