by Vivi Holt
“No it’s not. And you know what I mean – we’re both getting to that age where it looks like we might never meet the one.”
Her love life was one thing Molly didn’t want to think about. What did mooning around the house achieve? Absolutely nothing. She’d gone through a stage where she went out every night to meet men, even signed up for one of those online dating apps and swiped herself into a frustrated mess every day for months. But sometime in the past year, she’d decided to let it go. What did it matter if she spent her life single?
Was it what she wanted? No. She’d always longed for love and a family of her own, and even got close once – Andrew, her ex-fiancé. But now almost everyone she knew was already married, or divorced and in a long-term relationship, and she still hadn’t found anyone she’d want to settle down with. She thought she had, but it turned out he didn’t feel the same way. Did that say something about her? Were her expectations too high? Or was she just not the kind of woman a man would want to spend their whole life with?
“I guess I didn’t imagine my life would turn out the way it has,” Vicky groaned.
“You say that as though it’s over.”
“No, not over – but the odds aren’t good. Hard to imagine that I’ll meet someone now who could sweep me off my feet. Any guy I meet that’s remotely interesting is already married, usually with kids.” Vicky laughed to soften the blow of her words.
Molly nodded. She knew how much it pained Vicky to still be single.
“But I think anything’s possible when it comes to love,” Vicky added.
“You really are a romantic,” replied Molly with a giggle. “And I’m sure you’ll find someone amazing, fall hopelessly in love and get married. But my career and family are enough for me. I’m blessed with so much – I travel, meet people, see the world and I have a family who loves me and a job I’m good at. My life is full. I mean, would I love to find someone to share it all with? Yes, of course. But if that doesn’t happen, I’m perfectly content.”
“I’m happy for you. But I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Well, it’s true.” Molly nodded for emphasis.
“Good to know.”
“Just for curiosity’s sake, why don’t you believe me?”
Vicky giggled. “I was wondering if you’d bite on that. Because you’re living behind a set of giant concrete emotional walls. Ever since Andrew left, you haven’t let anyone else get close enough to even ask you out.”
Molly’s brow furrowed. “Yes I have. It’s just that no one’s been interested.”
“What about that guy at the gym with the blonde curls?”
Molly snorted.
“And the café guy, Dan – he flirted with you daily for months, but you never gave him an opening.”
Molly’s eyes rolled. “Fine, I take your point. What do you suggest?”
“How about we go out tonight, and if you meet a guy you could stand to spend some time with, give him your number? Take a chance. Don’t say no to him right away – let him get close enough to get to know you a little. And if you go out with him and still like him, then commit to get to know him better. That’s all I’m asking. And I’m only saying all of this because I love you, you know that.”
Molly took a deep breath. “I know you do. Okay, fine, if I meet someone decent, I won’t say no. Not immediately.” She glanced around the room and saw Daisy still lying with her head on her paws, wide brown eyes following Molly’s every movement. Molly sighed and patted the arm of her chair. “Come here, girl. I forgive you.”
Daisy ran to her side, tail wagging furiously, and burrowed nose first into her lap. Molly stroked her head with a laugh.
Vicky frowned. “I’m not sure I forgive her just yet. Though it is hard to hold a grudge against a face like that.”
Daisy trotted over to Vicky and licked her cheek.
Vicky gasped and jumped to her feet, then patted the dog’s back with a grimace. “That is disgusting … but sweet. I guess I forgive you too. Just please stop destroying our apartment.”
After Molly got back from taking Daisy for a walk, she found Vicky picking up individual goose feathers and stuffing them into a trash bag. At the rate she was going, it looked as though it might take her a year. Molly had already cleaned up as many as she could find before her walk, but it seemed there was no end to them, as though more magically appeared every time they turned their backs.
“So what are we going to do tonight?” asked Molly as she tickled Daisy beneath her shaggy chin, then released the leash. Daisy ran to her water bowl in the kitchen and lapped greedily.
“We could go out to eat.”
Molly’s nose wrinkled. “We always do that.”
“So something different? Like … getting a tattoo?”
Molly laughed, her eyes wide – Vicky always knew how to surprise her. “Not that different.”
Her friend grinned. “Okay, how about bowling? I haven’t done it since I was a kid – it might be fun.”
“Bowling, huh? Okay, but I have to warn you I’m terrible at it, always have been. I’ve even been known to inflict serious injury.”
Vicky’s forehead creased. “What kind of injury? Is it safe to go bowling with you?”
“Well, Dad got a badly bruised toe – it really wasn’t my fault, he was in the way. And then Amanda’s nose … you know what, let’s not talk about it. It’s all in the past. I’m sure I’m completely coordinated and a fantastic bowler by now. I mean, that was years ago and everybody gets better with age, don’t they?” She grabbed Vicky’s arm, looped hers through it and began to drag her friend toward the door.
“Um … no, not really,” Vicky protested. “Can we eat something first?”
“We’ll eat there – they have food at those places, right?”
“But the mess …”
“It’ll still be here when we get home.”
3
Molly picked up a glob of cheesy fries and pushed it into her mouth with a satisfied grin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d indulged this way – or why she’d abstained. They were so good. “Mmmm …” She smiled at Vicky.
Vicky had one eyebrow raised. “I’ve never seen you eat with your fingers like that. I think I may have unleashed a beast …”
Molly licked each finger, smacking her lips as she went. “Yum.”
Vicky laughed. “Okay, well – we’ve had pizza, hot dogs and cheese fries. Next you’ll be asking for ice cream and chocolate cake …”
“You bet. That is a great idea.”
“Are you pre-menstrual?”
Molly burst out laughing. “Why did you ask that?”
“The way you’re eating. You’re usually so picky and well-mannered.”
“Not today. You’ve shown me the light.” She pushed her glasses up.
“I don’t know if I can really take all the credit, I think the sugar-high you’re on from that enormous slushy probably has something to do with it.” Vicky’s eyes narrowed and she rubbed her stomach gingerly. “And I’m not sure that hot dog was entirely fresh.”
“I’m not just talking about the food – I’m referring to our discussion earlier. I guess I don’t let myself dwell too much on finding someone to share my life with … but you’re probably right. The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not very likely now, is it? So why bother watching my figure, or using manners when I eat? If I’m going to die old and alone, I can be as disgusting as I want.”
Vicky took a long slow breath and reached for her bowling ball as it popped out of the return machine. “You can stop talking now. You’re depressing me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think of you that way, I’m just talking about myself. You’re so sweet and quirky – I know you’ll find someone. But me …”
“Did I tell you about my date last night?” asked Vicky. She hurled the ball down the alley – bouncing it right into the gutter. She faced Molly with a frown, sat beside her and reached for a cheesy fry.
“No, you didn’t. How’d it go?”
“It was a disaster.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Who was it again – that scientist guy from FindYourDate.com?”
She nodded, her nose wrinkling. “Yes. Suffice it to say, I developed a great relationship with the back of his iPhone.” She rolled her green eyes.
Molly groaned. “Oh no. Maybe the next one will be the one.” She looked at her feet, shifting them around on the polished wood. “This floor is really slippery. I know these shoes are rentals, but they don’t have much traction.”
“They’re the same ones everyone wears – I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Vicky leaned over to examine her own shoes and made a face. “Seriously, I think everyone in the entire world has worn these exact shoes. I’m probably going to contract bubonic plague or something.”
Molly laughed. “I don’t think that exists anymore.”
“But if it does, it’ll be in these shoes.”
Molly glanced around the bowling alley and rubbed her full stomach. “I don’t think I could eat another bite … wait, is that …?”
“Who?” asked Vicky, her eyes narrowing.
“In the next lane over … is that the fireman who carried me out of the building?” It was! Her stomach did a flip and her cheeks flamed as she recognized him. He hadn’t spotted her, but she wouldn’t forget that face in a hurry. She scooted down in her seat and raised a hand to shield her face.
Vicky studied the two men bowling beside them. “I think you’re right. What do you want to do?”
“Shhh.” Molly waved her hand. “Don’t let him see you.”
Vicky put her hand on her hip. “This is ridiculous. You can’t really hide – he’s only a few feet away.”
Molly took a slow breath. “You’re right. And why should I hide? He’s the one who was rude, not me.”
“Actually …”
Molly scowled. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours! Of course!” Vicky’s smile was cartoonish. “Hey, he’s even cuter than I remembered.”
“Hmph! I don’t care how cute he is. He’s completely arrogant.”
“Oooh, sounds like my type.” Vicky smiled. “So come on – it’s your turn to bowl. Don’t let the mean nasty ol’ firefighter scare you.” She chuckled and sat beside Molly, pulling a Red Vine from the packet on the table and chewing it absently.
Molly stood with a frown, pushing her shoulders back. Vicky was right – they’d come to bowl and have fun, and she wasn’t going to let a self-important jerk like … well, she didn’t know his name, but regardless, she wasn’t going to let him interfere with her evening. She picked up her bowling ball, stepped forward and raised it in the air, her eyes fixed on the pins at the end of the alley. She shimmied her feet back and forth, frowning at the slickness of the floor.
She sensed the fireman’s eyes on her and her head began to spin. Did he recognize her? Never mind, she’d show him by pulling off her first-ever perfect strike. She could feel it bubbling up within her, the ability to send the ball gracefully and accurately down the alley and into the pins. She visualized it in her mind’s eye – it’d be amazing. She’d be amazing. He’d be so impressed, he’d completely regret how he’d treated her and view her with newfound respect. She smiled slightly, stepped forward.
“Hey, Miss Georgia Times!”
Her eyes widened, her hand flew upward, the ball sailed high and her feet slipped out from under her. She fell flat on her back, her legs up in the air and her hair billowing out around her head like a blooming flower. She coughed as the force of her landing knocked the wind from her lungs. Her bowling ball crashed onto the floorboards, the sound echoing through the cavernous room. She stared up at the ceiling as pain radiated through the back of her head where it had hit the hard floor.
Just then, her view of the ceiling was blocked by an annoyingly handsome face and a heart-thumping smile. “Are you okay?”
She felt the back of her head with one hand, her eyes narrowing. “I think so. Ugh – that hurt.”
He offered her his hand, pulled her gently to her feet, then helped her to a chair.
Vicky fussed around her. “Wow – Molly, are you injured?”
She glanced at the man, who had that glint in his eyes again, the one that told her he was laughing at her on the inside. She frowned. “I’m fine. Thank you … sir.”
He chuckled. “Sir? You don’t recognize me?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I do. You’re the jerk who carried me out of my office – and made me miss my deadline.”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “The way I see it, I saved your life. That’s a little more important than your deadline.”
She couldn’t fault him for that. Perhaps she had been in the wrong, a little. “Well … thank you.” She rubbed the back of her head.
He smiled, his cheeks dimpling, and her heart skipped a beat. “You’re welcome. So can I ask your name, Miss Georgia Times?”
She stuck out her hand. “Molly Beluga.”
He shook it slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Beluga?”
“Yes, sir. And you are?”
“Uh … Tim.”
She chuckled, smiling prettily. “Is that your full name, Uh Tim?” Why was she flirting with him? She couldn’t stand him! He was full of himself, and rude, and…
“Tim … Holden.”
“Holden?” Her stomach twisted into a knot. “Of the Atlanta Chronicle Holdens?”
“Uh … yes and no …”
Molly scowled, then forced a cynical smile. “So pleased to meet you, Tim. At least now I know how I got scooped.”
“So I guess we should hate each other, then,” said Tim with a smile. “Though if you were scooped, it had nothing to do with me. I don’t work for the Chron.” He was still coming to terms with the woman he’d carried from the Times Building being Molly Beluga.
He recognized her now, though he hadn’t seen a photograph of her since they were teenagers. Back then she was gangly with oversized glasses and a plethora of acne. She still wore glasses – smaller, more fashionable ones – but the zits had given way to a peaches-and-cream complexion that had no need for makeup. Her long dark hair fell around her face in soft curls, and her slim legs were offset by a curvy figure which he was acutely aware of in that moment.
“We should despise each other. Definitely.” But she didn’t sound convinced, and her cheeks flushed pink as she said it.
He glanced up to see Molly’s friend in deep conversation with Callum by the snack bar. He frowned – it didn’t look like Callum was coming back to finish their game anytime soon. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked Molly. He had to say something – the way she was looking at him made his heart skip. She was dressed more casually than she had been at the office – jeans and a pale blue T-shirt – and the way the jeans hugged her curves suited her.
“That would be great, thanks. I’ve eaten my weight in pizza and I could really do with a Sprite.”
He offered her a mock salute and stood.
“Do you think it’s against the rules for us to talk like this?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Oh, for sure. We’re being very bad.” He grinned mischievously and headed for the snack bar, where he ordered them both drinks and beckoned Callum over. “Are you gonna finish our game?”
“Yep. Just getting to know … Vicky here.” Callum grinned. “She’s nice. And I thought you might like some space with your friend over there.”
“My ‘friend,’ as you put it, is the woman I carried from the Times Building today.”
Callum’s eyes widened. He glanced past Tim to take another look. “Wow. She’s beautiful. You didn’t mention that.”
Tim’s lips pursed. “Yeah. And her name is Molly Beluga.”
“Should that mean something to me?”
Tim chuckled. “Only that she’s the daughter of my father’s most hated nemesis. Not to mention that our grandfathers despised each other for years – still d
o. You know my family owns the Chronicle?”
Callum nodded.
“Well, our grandfathers were best friends and worked together on the Chron back in the 1950s. When my grandfather took it over, hers left and started the Georgia Times, and since then both papers have done everything they could to undermine each other, scoop stories, steal sources, poach staff … let’s just say, our families hate each other and have for a very long time.”
Callum shook his head. “Well, that’s a dang shame. Because I saw the way you were looking at her and I haven’t seen you connect with someone like that since I’ve known you. She might just be the one – you know, for our bet? Do you think you two could be the bridge that makes the families come together?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Tim frowned. “No. And I don’t think we have a connection. She hates me, and with good reason –everyone was laughing at her today because of me.”
Callum grimaced. “I’ll admit, it’s not a great start, but you could get past that. Look at it this way – you two have a lot more in common than you realized. I’ll give you some space – why don’t you have a conversation with her and see where it goes?”
The server placed the drinks on the bar beside Tim and left with a nod. He picked them up and studied Molly across the room. “Fine. I’ll talk with her. But don’t go anywhere – if she attacks me, jump in and lend a hand.” He headed back to where Molly stood, Callum’s chuckles echoing behind him.
She was studying each bowling ball on the rack, picking them up and putting them back, her brow furrowed as though her choice would change the course of history. He set the drinks down, sat, crossed his legs and reached for his glass. “You gonna bowl?” he asked, trying hard to suppress a smile as the memory of her last attempt flashed before his eyes.
She frowned at him. “Yes. I’m really not so bad at it – you just startled me is all.”
Tim chuckled. “It was my fault, huh? Let’s see you do better, then. And this time I promise to keep quiet.”
