While You Were Reading

by Ali Berg

  ‘No, no. Martha was just leaving. Feel free to swing by my place in about half an hour or so, if you want to hang. Or, whatever.’ Bea sprinted to the bathroom mirror and began smearing concealer underneath her eyes.

  ‘Okay, yeah, cool. I can come round then.’

  ‘Great. Fantastic. Anyway, I better run,’ Bea said, now powdering her cheeks with blush.

  ‘See you soon then.’

  ‘Catch ya.’

  Bea hung up the phone and exhaled. ‘You loser, Bea,’ she said in her terrible British accent.

  ‘Speed dating? For books?’

  ‘Doesn’t it sound fun?’

  Bea sat on the couch in her living room, one leg curled underneath her while her other bare foot grazed against the cream jute rug. Zach sat beside her. He had arrived at her house promptly, as promised, and they had spent the last hour watching reruns of The Office on her couch, and scoffing down caramel popcorn. Everything seemed nice. Maybe she had simply imagined him rejecting her. Maybe he really did want to take things slow. Zach was looking at her curiously as he tried to take in her surprise new venture.

  ‘What’s not to like? I mean, look at us! We’re the perfect example of finding the great literary and literal leads in your life through books.’ She caught herself. Was that too much?

  She couldn’t help but wish Cassandra could be here to enjoy this new idea with her. She would be all ‘Is six books too many? It’s like forcing me to choose my favourite child!’ and ‘Can it be The Great Gatsby themed?’ Bea had texted Cassandra immediately after her light-bulb moment with Dino, but of course, she was met with an echoing silence.

  And for all his bookish wisdom, Zach just didn’t seem to be getting it. ‘And you’re doing this with Dino? You two seem pretty close,’ he said, relaxing back against a forest green decorative pillow.

  ‘He’s been a good friend. Well, one of my only friends, really. In Melbourne, that is.’

  ‘What about me?’ Zach gave her one of his rich, sunshine-beaming smiles and placed his hand on her leg.

  ‘I was hoping we were a little more than friends?’ Bea inched just the slightest bit closer to him. Zach matched Bea’s cautious insistence, leaning towards her, his hand travelling up her thigh.

  ‘Yoo-hoo! Anybody here?’

  Lizzie. Bea was both utterly delighted and utterly exhausted by her sister’s non-stop enthusiasm for Melbourne life and for how to live it properly. All week she hadn’t stopped telling Bea how to dress, what to cook, how to speak. Bea knew Lizzie was coming from a good place, but she was tired of being told what to do all the time.

  ‘You’re back so soon,’ Bea muttered to her sister, who was dressed to the nines in a billowy red chiffon dress. She shuffled away from Zach. She was not one for overt displays of public affection. Especially not when her family was involved.

  ‘And you have company,’ Lizzie said, hand on heart. ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’ She extended her hand towards Zach, which he half-shook and then, looking bewildered, kissed.

  ‘I’m Lizzie Babbage, you may recognise me from—’

  ‘The Bachelor, Season Two? Oh, I know. I can’t believe Jake chose that devil Courtney over you!’ Zach guffawed.

  ‘Tell me about it. But it turned out for the best. I now have a wonderful husband and twin daughters and Jake has, well, a divorce, bad publicity and an intervention order.’ Lizzie shrugged, almost successfully masking any hint of spite in her voice.

  ‘You watch The Bachelor? You’re full of surprises, Zach,’ Bea whispered to him.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he winked.

  ‘Well, I won’t keep you two lovebirds,’ Lizzie trilled, ‘but I just wanted to let you know that the Facebook event for Next Chapter is live and I’ve been in touch with my Bachie gals.’ She turned to Zach conspiratorially. ‘I’m hoping they’ll bring a bit of buzz to the evening!’

  ‘Gosh, you move quick, Liz. I would have loved to have had a chance to see the event first though,’ Bea said, clasping her hands tightly around her knees.

  ‘Trust me, Bea. It all looks fabulous. And, like they say, you gotta be in it to win it. No time to mess around!’ She subconsciously touched the giant rock on her left finger. ‘Thank God I’m in Melbourne. There’s far too much to organise and I can’t do it all the way from Mount Eliza!’

  ‘You know, I’ve really got most of it under control, Liz.’

  ‘Sure, sure, darling,’ Lizzie cooed as she sauntered away to Bea’s bedroom.

  Looks like I’ll be the one on the couch tonight. Bea tried to feel grateful for her sister’s energy and help.

  ‘It’s next Thursday, by the way,’ Bea said shyly when they were alone again.

  Zach picked up his glass of red wine and gulped what was left of it down. ‘What is?’

  ‘The book event. If you’re free and feel like coming?’ Bea said, looking away. ‘You could bring an Atwood, perhaps? You mention her in one of your notes.’

  ‘Nothing screams “it’s time to party!” like a totalitarian world and sexual servitude,’ Zach laughed.

  ‘There’s no pressure though, only come if, you know, you’re not busy already.’

  Zach fell back against the couch pillows and propped his hands behind his head, a half-smile dancing on his lips. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Maybe I can even work out some promotion deal with the boss?’ he said. And then he kissed her.

  When Zach kissed Bea it was like she was hooked on a great series and craving the next instalment to arrive in stores – she already wanted to kiss him again and again and again. But before she knew it, he was standing by the front door, his hand caressing her face, saying goodbye.

  ‘I’m worried he’s just not attracted to me,’ Bea whined as she grabbed a clump of toilet paper. ‘One second he’s all over me, the next he’s half way out the door. I mean, what sort of guy wants to take things slow, if you get what I mean?’ She peered under the divider and gazed longingly at Martha’s leopard-print lace-ups. Her co-worker even managed to make sneakers look uber chic.

  ‘Honey, that gender stereotype is so 2007,’ Martha replied. ‘Did it occur to you that he’s being honest when he says he wants to take this slow? And that doesn’t make him any less of a man, or you, any less of an attractive woman. Oh bother! Love, you don’t happen to have a tampon handy?’

  Bea rustled around in her handbag, found one and passed it under the stall to Martha. She was right, of course. Bea was being close-minded, weighing Zach down with societal expectations. Why did she always assume the worst?

  ‘Ugh, I hate dating! So many unknowns. So many insecurities! I like to think I am a totally sane, put-together person until some guy comes along and I immediately feel like a total whack job! Maybe I should just pull the pin while I still have my dignity intact?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ The toilet flushed. ‘Wasn’t it Austen who once wrote something along the lines of “my feelings won’t be repressed”? Don’t be afraid to get hurt. It’s the only way to know you’ve truly lived.’

  ‘I guess he did seem excited for my book speed dating event. Well … eventually, anyway.’

  ‘See! He sounds great. And keen. Don’t let this tall, dark and handsome book-loving guy pass you by,’ Martha said before letting the cubicle door close with a muted thump behind her.

  Long after Martha had left, Bea stayed in the cubicle. She pulled out her copy of Meeting Oliver Bennett and inhaled a few paragraphs. Then she traced her finger along the outline of Zach’s annotations. Words like “elixir”, “freedom” and “ecstasy” floated up off the page. In a moment of frustration, she grabbed the pen she had jammed into her messy bun and scribbled her own thought along the already clogged margin: What the hell do you want with me?! Then she slammed the book shut, flushed, washed her hands and, begrudgingly, made her way back to her desk.

  Bea wound a final strand of hair around her curling wand and appraised her reflection in the mirror, her head tilted at an awkward angle. She
was fresh-faced, save for a stain of red gloss on her lips and a discreet winged eyeliner. She shook out her hair and slid on a pair of sparkly silver sneakers – Martha’s suggestion. Tonight was the night, her break-out moment! A chance to see if there was more to her than coordinating social media copy for the latest cordless electric toothbrush. To see if she could be brave enough to be the leading lady in her own story.

  Bea had pulled out the big guns for the event, haggling down the price of champagne, and ordering some super-sophisticated, and more importantly, super-discounted flower arrangements. She’d even managed to talk The Little Brunswick Street Bookstore into offering discount coupons for guests on their next purchase. Lizzie had only been slightly controlling – ahem – helpful, too. The only problem was, her sister refused to believe that this was a totally platonic dating experience so she had ordered four large bouquets of heart-shaped balloons (which she at least offered to pay for) and organised sponsorship from Hello Cupid Dating. Bea had tried desperately to talk her out of it, but there was no getting through to her. Lizzie insisted that this ‘wasn’t her first rodeo’ and that her intuition was never off when it came to matters of the heart. She was on a mission, and no matter how many times Bea un-cc’d her sister from emails, Lizzie managed to claw her way back in. So, Bea had relented and hoped to God that her sister would at least keep herself in check on the night.

  Thankfully, Dino had continued to be supportive and, more importantly, involved. He had spent the week madly decorating coffee cups with an array of quotes from some of Bea’s favourite authors. And, at Bea’s insistence, had patiently rearranged the tables, only to put them back exactly where they had been to begin with due to space constraints (the café was called The Nook for a reason). Not to mention the pièce de résistance – the bespoke poem he had prepared to open the festivities, which would be a surprise for Bea as well. All Bea had to concern herself with now was not falling apart at the seams or letting her visceral fear of failure, which had dogged her for days, get the better of her.

  The doorbell buzzed. Zach.

  Since he was last at her house a week ago, Zach had seemed to be overcompensating for his initial scepticism about the event with messages of encouragement and a large, totally embarrassing bouquet of tulips that had arrived at her work the previous afternoon. It was sweet, really. And it was certainly working. Bea felt a flutter deep within as she grabbed her bag and flew down the stairs to greet him.

  ‘Hey there, little bookworm,’ he said, giving her that smile of his that seemed to light up his whole face and which was impossible not to return.

  Bea folded herself into his arms and kissed him with fervour.

  ‘Ready?’

  She nodded and tugged at the corner of his blue-green shirt, demanding one last kiss before settling into his car.

  They were barely inside The Nook when Lizzie, who had driven down from Mount Eliza early to welcome her fellow Bachelor contestants, came barrelling towards them. She was dressed in a hot pink bodycon dress and nine-inch stilettos. A small bejewelled earpiece, complete with mini microphone, poked out between her luscious locks.

  ‘Finally! You’re here!’ she exclaimed, grabbing Bea tightly by the shoulders. ‘The florist is running thirty minutes late, all three of my Bachie gal pals have pulled out at the last minute – apparently Channel Ten is throwing some big blowout at Crown that they just had to attend – you’re making me sleep on the couch for the night, and the cupcakes are a disaster. A disaster! It’s been a total communication meltdown. Look!’ she shrieked and dragged Bea over to the counter where Dino stood, shining glassware, with a barely concealed smirk on his face. She thrust open the first of four large, white boxes. Bea peered into the box.

  ‘They must have misread the brief. I told you we wouldn’t get good service if you just won them from some stupid competition! What the hell are we going to do?’ cried Lizzie, clutching onto Bea for dear life.

  ‘Misread the brief ’ was an understatement. Plastered on every cupcake were two bulging pink breasts, complete with liquorice nipples, and the word ‘BOOBS’ in black icing.

  Zach placed his hand on Bea’s lower back. He took one look at the cupcakes and burst out laughing.

  Lizzie and Bea were not amused.

  ‘Why not try and make the most of an iffy situation?’ Dino said calmly.

  ‘What?’ Bea and Lizzie barked in unison.

  ‘Make it a fundraiser. Pop a jar out and collect donations for—’ he paused, thinking. ‘The Breast Cancer Foundation.’

  Bea exhaled and let her shoulders drop, visibly relaxing.

  Lizzie, only somewhat placated, placed her fingers to her earpiece and chirped away a host of new instructions to God knows who. ‘Do you copy?’ she yelled as she stormed off.

  ‘You’re the tits, mate,’ Zach said, putting his fist out for Dino to bump.

  ‘I’m not really into puns,’ Dino replied, leaving him hanging.

  Bea rolled her eyes and put her hand in her bag, flicking her thumb over the pages of her copy of Pachinko – her other hot date for the evening. Looking to Dino and then to Zach, who were holding firm eye contact with each other, Bea suddenly felt ill at ease.

  ‘The poem, how’s it looking?’ she said to Dino.

  Dino placed the final champagne glass down next to its buddies on the counter. ‘Let’s just say, it’s no Dickinson.’

  Would anything go smoothly tonight?

  Bea left Dino to his half-hearted small talk with Zach about football – which she was almost certain Dino did not watch – and went to survey the rest of the room. The flowers had finally arrived and Lizzie was fussing over them. Bunches of white, long-stemmed roses lined two rows of tables. Bea had wanted sunflowers, her favourite; a flower that shouted warmth and happiness without a shred of cliché typical of the very flowers that now clogged the café. She didn’t want there to be anything typical about this event, but it seemed somebody had intercepted the order.

  ‘Liz, did you call the florist without asking me?’ Bea whispered into Lizzie’s ear, picking at her nails.

  ‘Yes, I thought I told you. Sunflowers are way too rustic. They would’ve clashed with the romantic theme of the evening.’ Lizzie glanced around the room, distracted.

  ‘The theme of the night is not romance, Lizzie!’ Bea snapped.

  ‘Jesus, Bea. Way to thank me for doing you a favour,’ Lizzie snapped.

  Funny that your ‘favours’ always seem to be the opposite of what I want, Bea pondered to herself before pushing away the rest of her toxic thoughts.

  Bea was nervous. Butterflies-in-her-throat, need-to-devour-weight-in-chocolate and not-even-the-words-of- Liane-Moriarty-would-put-a-smile-on-her-dial nervous. It was twenty-three minutes past the event’s official start time and still nobody had arrived. Bea had fluffed the flowers, tucked and untucked chairs to neaten the place up and consumed one – okay, two – glasses of wine, in an attempt to assuage her mounting panic, but she was officially on the brink. Lizzie was a mess too. She had been madly shouting into her sparkly headset for the last half an hour, calling on every favour and media influencer she could get her dainty, manicured hands on. Zach was no help; he stayed in the corner devouring the baked bosomy goodness with just a hint too much excitement.

  And then there was Dino. Feet up on the table, notebook in hand and Agatha Christie standing to attention by his chair after scoffing down half a cupcake before Dino could stop her. Instead of helping, he sat flipping through the pages of his Moleskine, his pen moving from his mouth to the page, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Well, I guess he doesn’t, thought Bea, suddenly consumed with every negative emotion known to man. It’s not like his whole sense of self rests on not looking like a fool tonight.

  Enough was enough. Bea re-lit the last of the tea lights and stormed over to the far-too-complacent barista.

  ‘Comfortable?’ she asked as she stopped in front of him, arms crossed, foot tapping.

  ‘Huh?’ Din
o popped his pen behind his right ear and squinted up at Bea. ‘You right there?’

  ‘No, I’m not right here! The event is a bust! Not a single person has shown up, Lizzie is on the cusp of a social media meltdown and the fruit platter I ordered has no grapes. This is worse than Fyre Festival! Why did you talk me into doing this?’

  ‘Bea, calm down.’ Dino dropped his feet to the floor and pulled her onto the seat next to him. He placed a glass of water in her hands and instructed her to take three deep breaths. ‘It’s the first event. It’s bound to take a while to create hype. Plus, haven’t you heard the expression “fashionably late”? It’s not even eight-thirty.’

  Bea drank some water, putting the empty glass down on the wooden table with a jarring thump. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. And I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.’ She sighed. ‘I just so wanted this to work. I needed this to work.’ She forced a small smile and picked up Agatha Christie, hugging her tightly against her chest.

  ‘Just give it time.’

  ‘You know, I really am grateful.’ Bea nuzzled her face into the dog’s fur. ‘You’ve been so nice to me since I got to Melbourne.’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Okay, maybe you haven’t been so nice. But you’ve been present, and consistent. And you’ve let me just about move into your coffee shop. And I think I’m this close to convincing you to give me Agatha.’

  ‘Dream on, Babbage.’ Dino ruffled the curly fur atop Agatha Christie’s head.

  They sat there for a while, the poodle forming a warm wedge between them.

  ‘Hey, I thought Sunday would be here? She isn’t joining us tonight?’

  Dino shrugged. ‘Nah. She had a friend’s gig to go to.’

  It looked as though Dino was about to say something else, but he was cut off by a commotion erupting from the back of the café. She watched as Zach power-walked briskly towards her. He was gesturing wildly with his eyebrows. Bea raised her own eyebrows in a question.

  ‘You’ve got one!’ Zach hissed, gliding in next to Bea, not so subtly cutting between her and Dino. ‘Somebody’s here!’