The Dating Series

by L. P. Dover

  The parking lot of the store is empty and I’m starting to wonder if it’s even open. The lights are on but maybe whoever was supposed to close the place down forgot to shut everything off. Still, I head to the door. Once I’m under the covered walkway, I shake and wipe off the snow from my coat, wiggling a little when some flakes fall down my scarf. Shit, it’s cold.

  As I walk toward the door, it swings inward. Yes, open! I can’t remember the last time I stepped foot into a grocery store. If I need anything, I have it delivered, or my maid brings my groceries when she comes every week. When I think about not running my own errands, I know it’s frivolous, but it saves on a headache. It’s not always easy walking freely around. If it’s not the paparazzi taking your pictures, it’s the tour busses pointing you out. If one fan screams, they all come running. If one fan tries to act nonchalant while attempting to take a selfie, another notices and then they want one, and the next and the next. I appease them all because it’s in my nature to be a good guy, and I figure if I’m out and about and they ask nicely, why not? Most of my peers aren’t this way and I get it. Like tonight, I want to be the Bostonian who grew up outside of Fenway park, waiting for a foul ball or an elusive out of the park homerun. Still, to this day, I haven’t caught one, but I have thrown out the first pitch there. I don’t want to be the guy the tabloids slam every chance they get or bombard at dinner. If someone is respectful and waiting for me outside, I’m happy to oblige most of their requests.

  Inside, the store is as quiet as the empty parking lot. There’s someone working at the customer service desk and I can faintly hear a machine, possibly cleaning the floors. I keep my head down as I walk the aisles, looking for the beer section. When I finally happen upon it, I’m lost. When did so many beers become available?

  “I really need to get out more. Be more human,” I mutter to myself.

  I stop in front of the IPA’s and look over each brand and each flavor. Every few bottles, I pick one up and read the label, checking for the alcohol content. The last thing I want to do is get blitzed out of my mind and have to stagger home.

  The machine I heard earlier comes down the aisle I’m standing in. It is, in fact, cleaning the floors. I keep myself inside the open door and continue to look at the beers. Each time I think I found one I’ll like, I spot another one, and another one.

  “So many choices.”

  Is this a sign I should drink more? Or should I go with the old standby of some domestic brand. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, but tonight, I want to branch out. I think I have it narrowed down to three beers. I hold the three bottles awkwardly in my hands, while my knee keeps the cooler door ajar. I play Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe in my head while trying to decide which one is going out with me. It shouldn’t be a hard decision, but apparently it is.

  Two

  Natalie

  Of all the times for a massive snowstorm to hit Boston, it had to be on my only day off. Not to mention it’s New Year’s Eve. I blow out a breath and watch the steam billow from my lips. Tightening up my heavy winter coat, I start walking down the street.

  I’ve trudged countless miles in the snow, but nothing as crazy as tonight. It’s deep already and it’s still coming down. I have to admit though, it looks like a winter wonderland. Usually, I’d drive to Emerson’s apartment from mine, but there is no way I can get my little Honda out of the parking garage with all this snow. Luckily, Emerson and her husband live only five blocks away, so it isn’t a long haul.

  We were supposed to go bar hopping to bring in the New Year, but with the crazy winter weather, Emerson and Callum decided to have some friends over, which is fine with me. Emerson and I met in nursing school and we’ve been best friends ever since. I was her maid of honor when she married Callum a couple of years ago and now that I’m divorced, he has been trying to set me up constantly. I’m curious to see who he’s lined up for me to meet tonight. So far, none of his previous set-ups have worked out. It’s probably for the best anyway. To be honest, I’m not ready to date again. Learning to trust someone is exhausting.

  The wind whips all around me and I suck in a breath. The air is so cold against my face. I’m glad I didn’t have to dress up and wear my heels, which is why I settled on wearing the pair of skinny jeans with a black sweater I bought myself for Christmas along with a new pair of snow boots. Trying to hike through snow in heels would probably have landed me in the hospital.

  That’s the last place I want to be since it’s where I work. Being an ER nurse is an adventure and I love it, but I’m glad to get away for a night. After my divorce, I took on extra shifts to keep me busy. I can only blame myself for not having a social life. I can stop the extra shifts any time I want to, but I’ve gotten so used to working them. Since Alec was the one who stepped out on me, I was granted half of everything, but I settled for our penthouse instead. I didn’t want anything of his, but our home was right by the hospital. I’m able to walk to work every day, which I love being able to do.

  Unfortunately, I’m a twenty-eight-year-old divorcee and I have to live with that title. I’m embarrassed to admit it when my patients ask if I’m married. I feel stupid every single time. I met Alec when I first started working at the hospital and he was just out of medical school. The man was smart and funny which is what attracted me to him, but sadly, he wasn’t smart enough to keep his dick in his pants. I caught him and another nurse playing doctor in one of the empty patient rooms. After that, Alec had the sense to transfer to a different hospital. There is no way I could work near him after what he did.

  All of that happened a year ago, but now it’s the beginning of a new year. Thank God for that. I think I’ve been asked about a million times what my resolutions are. The answer’s simple—make better choices. Easier said than done, I know, especially when it comes to chocolate and working too much. I need to make better choices in general, in all aspects of life. However, I think I’m going to hold off on that until after New Year’s Day. It’s the first New Year’s I’ve ever had off work. I want to make the best of it and drink to my heart’s content and eat whatever I want. I even packed a bag of clothes so I could stay over at Emerson’s. The last thing I want to do is walk home in the middle of the night in frigid temperatures.

  My phone rings and I fumble to get it out of my coat pocket. I look to see who it is, and Emerson’s name is on the screen.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “Hey, girl. You on your way?”

  The snow feels like it’s getting deeper. “Yep. My legs are getting a workout. I hate to see what it’s going to be like when I try to walk home tomorrow morning.” It usually only takes me about ten minutes to walk to her apartment building, but I’ve only made it past one block, and it’s been over ten minutes.

  Emerson giggles. “Callum and I will walk with you. I, for one, will need the exercise. You wouldn’t believe how much food I have here. We’re going to be pigging out all night.”

  My stomach growls. “Can’t wait. I’ll probably eat more than I drink.”

  “You and me both. I’ll start my diet in a couple of days.”

  I pick up the pace and make it past the second block. “Same. Although I’m not going to call it a diet. I’ve decided my only resolution this year is to make better choices.”

  She snickers. “Hopefully, I can help you with that. Callum has a guy from work coming over tonight to meet you. Since you don’t like any of his friends, we figured it was time to change it up.”

  I shake my head and laugh. “When are you two going to give it up?”

  “When you find happiness again,” she retorts. “Callum works with some nice guys at the station. I could see you getting it on with a police officer. Just think of what you could do with those handcuffs.”

  “Oh my God, Em. You need help, you know that?” I’ve never dated a police officer before, but it could be pretty interesting. I have to give her credit. Emerson’s a good friend.

  “That I do,” she agrees, “but you lov
e me. Oh, and speaking of loving me, do you mind doing me a huge favor?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “We need more beer, Callum didn’t get enough the other day, but I do have our wine. Do you mind picking some up since you pass the store on your way here?”

  I see the store up ahead, and luckily, it’s open. “No problem. I’m almost there. Do you know what you want?”

  She sighs. “No clue. You know I don’t drink that crap. I’m a wine and vodka girl.” So am I.

  “All right, I’ll see what I can find,” I say, “but tell Callum if the beer sucks it’s his fault he didn’t get enough.”

  “Will do.” She giggles again. “Be careful out there and I’ll see you when you get here.”

  We hang up and I trudge the rest of the way through the snow to the store. I open the door and it’s vacant, but the heat feels amazing against my face. I’m too frozen to push my hood back so I keep it on my head. There’s a young guy at the customer service desk and he nods at me as I walk past him. Everyone else was smart enough to stay inside during a snowstorm. I walk over to the beer aisle and there’s a worker buffing the floors and another man standing by the beer, looking at the different brands. He’s just as bundled up as I am.

  Taking a deep breath, I glance over all the different beers. I try to look at the selection in front of the man, but I don’t want to invade his space so I stick to what’s in front of me. Callum likes different types of beer and not the usual Budweiser or Corona. That’s what makes this so difficult. He always picks out unusual flavors. One time, he had a fixation on a peanut butter and jelly beer. I tried it and it really did have a peanut butter taste.

  “All right, let’s see,” I say quietly, perusing all the different specialty beers. The man beside me tenses as if he’s standing beside a lunatic talking to herself. Oh wait, I was. I’m pretty sure it’s not the craziest thing he’ll be witnessing tonight.

  Closing my eyes, I reach out and grab two packs of beer. Callum’s just going to have to deal with what I get. I open my eyes and look at what I picked. One is an apple cider beer and the other is an IPA.

  I turn to the man and clear my throat. I can’t see his face because it’s hidden by the hood of his coat. “I am so sorry to bother you, but have you by any chance tried any of these? I just want to know if they’re good or not.”

  He freezes and steps slowly away from the beer as if I scared him. He doesn’t move or reply, which is strange and makes me regret asking him in the first place. Now, all I want to do is get away from him. But everything changes when his face comes into view.

  My eyes go wide and my breath hitches in my lungs. A set of familiar brown eyes meet mine and it’s as if everything around me disappears. “Oh my God,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath. My arms go weak and I can feel the beers slipping from my grasp, but the man in front of me saves them.

  He sets the packs of beer on the floor and stares right into my eyes. “I thought I was imagining things when I heard your voice.”

  My heart skips a beat. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. Brennan McLean. I knew him as my high school boyfriend, but the world knows him as a superstar. I never thought I’d see him again, certainly not after he rose to fame. Letting him go all those years ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But, he needed to follow his dreams, and they all came true for him.

  “What . . . what are you doing here?” I stutter. “I figured you’d be in New York City or somewhere like that for New Year’s.” He lowers the hoodie and now I get a good look at his face. He hasn’t changed a bit. All the memories from our past come flooding back.

  “My flight got canceled,” he says, his voice low.

  The intense way he looks at me makes me tremble. “Did you visit your parents?”

  He nods and his lips pull back into a smile. “Yeah. They don’t want me to leave.”

  That makes me grin. “I bet not. They probably don’t get to see you much. I’ve been keeping up with your career and reading up on you. You’re always on the road.”

  He snorts. “Don’t believe everything you read. There’s a lot of shit said about me.”

  The tabloids love following him around, and I’ve seen all the pictures of him with all sorts of famous women. “Is it everything you always wanted?” I ask.

  He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slow. “Yes and no. What about you? Did you get everything you always wanted? In high school you wanted to be a nurse.”

  I nod. “Looks like we both followed our dreams. I work at the hospital now. I was lucky enough to get the night off.”

  Picking up the two packs of beer from the floor, he tucks one under his arm and holds the other so he can grab another pack off the shelf. “And how are you celebrating this New Year’s?” he wonders.

  He looks at me curiously and I smile. “I’m going to a party at my friend’s apartment. Her husband forgot to stock up on enough beer, so they asked me to stop here.”

  Brennan glances down at the beer I picked out. “Oh, and to answer your question, I’ve had the apple cider beer before. It’s pretty good.”

  We walk up to the guy at the service desk and the poor boy’s mouth flops open. “Holy shit, you’re Brennan McLean,” he gasps. Brennan’s face is known around the world. The guy pulls out his phone and looks sheepishly at Brennan. “Do you mind if I get a selfie? My friends aren’t going to believe this.” Brennan smiled and obliged.

  I try to pay for my beer, but Brennan pushes my card away. The cashier bags it all up and hands it to Brennan, still staring at him as if he’s a god. Once we’re outside, I stare at Brennan and he acts as if none of that happened.

  “It has to be weird having strangers fawn over you all the time,” I say.

  Brennan’s smile fades. “It is. Took me a while to get used to it. I can’t go anywhere without someone recognizing me.”

  “The price of fame,” I state.

  He shrugs. “Yeah.” Silence fills the air, but there’s so much I want to ask him. He nods toward the sidewalk. “Which way you headed?”

  I point to the high-rise just a couple blocks away. “There.”

  Brennan’s eyes widen. “I’m going there too. I’ll walk with you.” He walks slowly through the snow and I’m glad. I’ll probably never see him again after tonight and I don’t want it to end. Our arms brush against each other as we head toward the building. “How’s life treated you, Nat? I’ve wondered how you’ve gotten along these past few years.”

  His words make my heart flutter. No one has called me Nat since him. “Well,” I begin, “there’s not much to tell. I graduated nursing school and got married, only for us to get divorced two years later.”

  I look over at Brennan and he shakes his head. “Damn fool. What’d he do?”

  I shrug. “He cheated on me with another nurse. I’m just glad it’s over. We’ve been divorced a year now.”

  Brennan bumps me in the shoulder. “He’s an idiot.”

  “What about you? I saw pictures of you and Rayna Reynolds together.” The woman is gorgeous and one of the highest paid female actresses in the business. I bet she has men lined up to be with her.

  He groans. “It’s nothing but publicity. I was supposed to be at her party tonight.”

  A part of me is happy he couldn’t make it. Not like it matters anyway. Brennan and I might have a past, but I’m not like the women he wants now. I’m not rich or model beautiful like those women in Hollywood.

  We arrive at our destination and walk inside. I stop in the lobby to take off my coat, but it’s also my way of stalling. Brennan sets the beer down and takes off his coat as well.

  “Who are you visiting that lives here?” I wonder.

  Brennan shrugs. “Don’t know the guy actually. Jordan invited me. You remember him, right?”

  “I do,” I answer. I had no clue Brennan still kept in touch with him. I haven’t seen Jordan since we graduated.

  He sighs. “Jordan said it would be chill. G
uess we’ll see.”

  “If it’s not, you can always come with me to mine.” The words slip out and I can’t believe I said them. There’s no way he’ll want to hang out with me and my friends.

  Brennan smiles. “We’ll see.”

  And that right there is my answer. I drape my coat over my arm as we walk toward the elevators. Once inside, I press my floor and he presses his, which is the floor above Emerson’s. The ride up goes quick and the doors open. I turn to face Brennan and he hands me the two packs of beer.

  “It was good seeing you, Brennan. I’m truly happy for you.”

  He nods and his smile fades. “It was good seeing you too.” The doors start to close, and he steps in the way. “Do you mind if I get your number?”

  “Sure.” Again, my heart does that flip-flopping thing again, but I know it’s silly. The last thing I need to do is get my hopes up. I hand Brennan my phone and he hands me his. I plug in my phone number on his and he does the same with mine. Deep down, I know nothing will come of it. Our worlds are too different. I’m in Boston and he’s all over the world.

  Brennan smiles again when I hand him his phone. “Have fun at your party tonight,” he says, stepping back into the elevator. “Don’t get into any trouble.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, you know it. Lots of wine and a blind date. Good times. Have fun at yours.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but the doors shut. There’s an overwhelming sense of sadness that creeps its way into my heart. He’s gone and I know I’ll never see him again.

  Three

  Brennan

  The elevator doors closed before I had a chance to tell Nat I fully intend to call her. Well, not call, but definitely text. I can say so much more in a text than I can a phone call, although the intent of the messages aren’t always clear. Like, if I tell Rayna I can’t wait—for whatever it is she’s doing or planning—I mean it in a sarcastic way. I loathe spending time with her and hate that we share the same publicists. Whoever created the superstar fake relationship angle should be fired and hung from the gallows. It serves no purpose, other than making one party look like a cheating asshole if they were to dare try and spark up a conversation with a member of the opposite sex.