“Where is Jodi’s phone number?” I yelled at Trevor from the office. I’d planned on leaving right after he got back, but it got busy again, so I stayed to help him out. He didn’t appreciate my free coffee special, but he didn’t complain about all the tips he’d made because of it.
His slender frame leaned against the doorway of the office, but he didn’t come inside so he could keep an eye on the counter.
“She couldn’t help it that her kid was sick, Cord,” he explained sympathetically, arms crossed over his chest.
One of the chair’s wheel screeched as I pushed away from the desk. “What kind of prick do you think I am? She’s not in trouble. That woman who was here when you got back …”
“Dana …” he offered.
“Yeah, Dana. She’s Jodi’s sister.”
“And?” His tone was one of an adult speaking to a child.
“And I want to find out about her.”
He grimaced. “That’s so fucking lame, man. Calling her sister? Really?”
Trevor was seventeen, what could he possibly know? I’d been doing just fine with women since long before he was even born.
I closed the top drawer of the desk, after not finding anything in there anyway. “There’s nothing wrong with calling Jodi to ask her a few things, and quit saying fuck.”
When his head shook, the funny little bun on top of it swayed. “Maybe not, but you could just talk to Reuben instead. Dana’s friends with him and Becca, too, I think. She comes in with Becca sometimes when Jodi’s working.”
How in the hell did everyone in my life know this woman except me?
How had I never met her before?
He leaned back and waved at someone. “Thanks for coming in to help me today, but I’ll be fine until Mia gets here in a little while. Dad’s out front.”
I smarted off. “Does he know her too?”
He smacked the doorframe. “I don’t know, Cord. I don’t get what the big deal is. You go out with lots of women. Just pissed you missed one?” If it wasn’t for his face pinching like he knew he might have gone too far, I would have put him in a headlock and fucked up his bun.
Well, that and he wasn’t completely wrong.
But none of the women I’d dated in the past had her eyes. That laugh. All that red hair. Her lips—son of a bitch, those lips.
The things I’d like to do to them.
The things I’d like them to do to me.
Mercy.
“She just caught my attention. That’s all.” The chair rolled against the filing cabinet as I stood. “How did you guys do on the test?” I walked to the front of the shop with him.
“I don’t know. We didn’t really get to talk, and she finished first and left. She sent me a text saying she’d be here in about an hour. I hope she did well, but tests really freak her out.” It was obvious the feelings he had for his high school girlfriend ran deeper than any I’d ever had as an adult.
“There you are,” bitched Nolan. “Don’t you answer your phone?”
I pulled it out of my back pocket seeing that I had a few missed calls, mostly from him and my mother. It was already after three.
“Are we watching the fight at my place, yours, or the bar?”
I’d forgotten all about it, and I didn’t really care either way. I answered, “I’ve got beer.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Perfect. You and Mia want to come by Cord’s and watch it with us later?” Nolan asked his son.
Trevor had always spent half his time at Nolan’s, but now that he had Mia, he wasn’t spending much time with anyone else.
“Nah, we’re both working tomorrow, too. We’ll probably just watch a movie at her place,” he answered and wrung out a cloth.
“Fine. Be home by one.” He lowered his voice, and I could predict what was coming. “And Trev, do your old man a favor—“
“I know, Dad. Wear a condom. Even if we are having sex—and I’m not saying we are because it’s not your business—I’m not as dumb as you,” he teased.
“This kid,” Nolan grumbled to me like I didn’t already know.
“Are you coming over to watch Page whoop some ass or not?” I asked Reuben over the phone before Nolan and I ordered food.
“Nah, I’m still packing. Movers are coming on Monday. Where in the fuck did I get all of this shit?” He was complaining, but I knew how excited he was.
“You never throw anything away. You probably have your first porno mag and the gym sock you blew the load into.”
“That’s not a joke. I still have that Hustler.”
I slapped the counter. “Dammit. I wanted you to come over so I could ask you about Dana.”
“Dana?” he countered. “What do you want to know about her?”
“Well, she came into the coffee shop and I…”
He cut me off. “Oh, no. No. No. No. She’s Becca’s best friend, and she’s off limits.”
Off limits. That certainly didn’t help to pale her allure.
If he wasn’t coming over, at least I could dig for a few things while I had him on the phone. “Why? Is she seeing someone?”
“Cord. No. Just no.”
I switched the phone to the other ear and pointed to the number six on the Chinese menu that Nolan was holding up in front of me. “Don’t tell me no, man. If she’s with someone fine. If she’s not, I want her number.”
“Come on. Can’t you just go out with someone else?”
I didn’t see the problem. It wasn’t like I was some dick who was awful to women. He added, “At least until after the wedding.”
That’s right. The wedding. Even if he didn’t give me her number, our paths would be crossing again.
I reasoned, “I’m not that bad, Reub.”
“Yeah, well you don’t really date women for very long either. You never take the time to get to know them. Hello, Bridget from my office, case in point. No offense man, but if you see her, then it doesn’t work out—and considering you’ve been playing this catch and release game for over a decade—it won’t. What happens if it gets awkward before the wedding? It will stress Becca the fuck out, and she already has enough going on. Seriously. Not her. Not now.”
I saw his point, but I didn’t like it.
Besides, Bridget was a poor example. She was a nice woman, but we had nothing in common. She was constantly taking selfies. Also, she had this huge-ass purse that drove me nuts for some reason. Who needs that much shit just to go to dinner? I never guessed she’d be so upset when I broke things off after a few dates, but I didn’t see the point in stringing someone along when I knew she wasn’t right for me—or me for her, for that matter.
“What if I do want to get to know her?”
Nolan was finished ordering and took a seat next to me at the bar in my basement. While he drank his beer, he listened to every word as we talked on speakerphone.
Reuben answered my question with his own. “How did you even meet her? I’ve been trying to keep you too separated.”
Motherfucker. That stung. “You what? Why would you do that?”
“Because. Look at her. She’s gorgeous, and you’re you. I knew this was going to happen.” He groaned on the other end of the line.
“Well, I met her at the Bean Bag. I can’t believe you think I’m that bad. I’m good to women. You act like I’m some dickhead.” I nodded as I gave him my argument, and Nolan quietly humored me, nodding too.
“Yeah, well you go through them like breath mints. Beautiful ones. Successful ones. Sweet ones. Funny ones. I just can’t risk it. She can’t be another Bridget who I have to deal with when you move along. You’re not a bad dude—you know I don’t think that—but have you ever thought that you’re just not going to find this perfect woman? That you’re looking for something that just isn’t out there?”
Bullshit. She was out there. “What if I found her?”
He outright laughed at me, and Nolan joined him. “What? You talked to her for three minutes at the coffee shop? Now she—of all the women in the world—is the one you’ve been looking for? Come on, Cord.”
Why did he always have to be so damn … right? I supposed that’s what made him such a good attorney. The odds weren’t in my favor.
“Well, I don’t know, but I’d like to at least find out.”
After a few long seconds, which I would guess he spent pacing like he usually did when we argued, he sighed and relented. “You know what? If she’s that perfect, if she’s the elusive unicorn you’ve been chasing all these years, then she’ll still be around after we get married. It’s only a few months. You’re both in the wedding, and there’s nothing I can do about that. You’ll have to be around each other anyway. But just talk to her, get to know her a little. Then, when the wedding is over, if you still want to see her, ask her out then. Just give it some time, man. For me.”
Reub didn’t ask me for much. Hell, he didn’t even ask us to help him move, having chosen to hire movers so that he wouldn’t inconvenience us. He’d been my friend for over twenty-five years. We were business partners on top of that. The three of us were as close as brothers. Maybe closer. If it wasn’t important to him, then he wouldn’t have been so insistent about it.
All he wanted was for me to wait until after the wedding, so I guessed I could do it. Considering how out of my mind I’d acted that morning with her, it might even be better that way.
“Okay, fine,” I conceded. “But Reub, same goes for Nolan, right? If he wanted to get her number, would you give it to him?” I asked, hoping it would lighten the mood.
Nolan perked up waiting for his answer.
“Nolan with Dana?” Reuben chuckled. “You’ve seen her right? He wouldn’t have a chance.”
Nolan bristled, like Nolan often did when we gave him shit. “Fuck you guys,” he fired off almost automatically, then recovered. “Is Dana the one with the red hair?” The look on his face told me he’d seen her before, too.
“Yeah, that’s her,” Reuben answered.
Nolan spoke toward the phone and held his beer like he was about to take a long drink. “You’re right. She’s out of my league.”
A laugh came through the speaker of my cell. “Don’t worry, man. She’s out of Cord’s league, too. He just doesn’t realize it yet.”
The competitive side of me was dying to come back with some asshole comment, but I’d made my mind up. If it would lighten my friend’s load, I wouldn’t make a move until after their wedding.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the pay-per-view was starting up.
“The fight is on. We’ll talk to you later. Call me tomorrow if you need a hand.”
Nolan added, “Yeah, same here. Call us, you dickhead.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll let you know. Later,” he said and disconnected the call.
Nolan and I watched the fight, but my head wasn’t really into it. It wasn’t even five minutes before a second-round TKO, and then it was over. Just like that.
I didn’t know anything about this Dana woman, other than I was crazy attracted to her. So crazy I’d already pictured having sex with her six times that day.
Guys do that, don’t be too alarmed. I’d actually kept it to a minimum.
About an hour after Nolan took an Uber home, I cleaned up the take-out boxes and hauled the trash bag upstairs. When I walked back through the kitchen, my calendar caught my eye. Most—if not all—of the events associated with Reuben and Becca’s wedding were scribbled on it.
I flipped through it to the next month, which was only a week away. At the end of May, I had written possible bachelor party, which Reuben was still fighting us on. Another page flipped, and there was the rehearsal, wedding, and reception at the beginning of June.
If everything went smoothly, I’d ask her out the night of their reception.
However, the possibility of her having a date to the wedding hit in full force.
I mean come on; she was a ten. She’d have a date. It was only about six or seven weeks. I could hold out just fine, especially with how busy I was going to be, but what if she met someone between now and then?
Hell, what if she’d already met him?
I had no fucking information, and it was a major problem. No way to manage any of the variables. No way to mitigate my chances of success or failure.
Typically, I’d be out on a Saturday night. Possibly meeting a woman. Possibly entertaining one. You know, staying out of trouble.
Not that night.
That Saturday, I was all alone, kind of drunk, and I had only one thing on my mind. Find out whatever I could about Dana … Fuck. I didn’t even know her last name.
I set up shop in my kitchen with my laptop and decided to look at it like a challenge—The Dana Challenge. I’d do research, same as I did when I considered a new business.
Just like with everything, knowledge was power.
I needed to know, and it wasn’t that hard thanks to Facebook. Good old Facebook.
I never was one to post or interact much on social media, but it did have its benefits. Like when I was looking into a new employee. If I was buying an established business or needed to contact an old acquaintance or college friend, then it was a helpful tool. Plus, it made it easy to spy on Trevor.
Also, if it weren’t for Facebook, where would my mother post all the recipes she used to lure me into visiting her and Craig?
So I logged in and went right to it. Reuben Leahy. I scrolled through his wall until I came to Becca Freese. I went to her page and found she’d already sent me a friend request that I’d, up until then, not noticed.
Accept. Perfect. Instant access.
It didn’t take long before I saw her face—Dana Rogers’ face—in one of Becca’s pictures. Birthdays. Girls’ night out selfies. I went so far as going back a few years on Becca’s timeline, learning how much she loved my Royals and traveling. How her father passed away right before she graduated college.
Being on Becca’s wall, digging through her life to find out more about her friend, suddenly didn’t feel so great. Although, I was certain Reub was getting a great woman.
Finally, I clicked on Dana’s name to go to her profile. There wasn’t that much that was public, except posts about early admissions and other things to do with the college where she worked.
Good for her. She was smart enough to keep curious men like me from creeping on her.
I finished another beer, then pulled the last one from the shelf in the refrigerator and switched to my phone.
Cord, you could just message her and introduce yourself. It’s not like you don’t have a few common threads.
Fully aware that I’d only just that night told Reub I’d leave her alone until after the wedding, I opened a new private message. I didn’t even send her a friend request, for some reason that felt too juvenile, and I’d already behaved like a stupid teenager once that day.
Dana,
I’d like to introduce myself like I should have this morning at the Bean Bag. Sorry, if I seemed preoccupied and possibly rude to you.
It’s actually funny to think we’ve never bumped into each other since your sister works at the shop. On top of that, our close friends are getting married.
Small world.
Anyway, it was nice to meet you. Since the second I saw you I’ve thought of nothing else except your sexy red lips, ripping The Trench Coat off you, and fucking your brains out.
Maybe next time.
Sincerely, Cord Taylor
Of course, I didn’t send the message like that. I wasn’t as bad as Reuben thought I was—even when I was drunk. I ended with nice to meet you and quit there. Thankfully, I looked at the time before I hit send and decided to wait until the next day, at an appropriate hour. I didn’t want to give the impression that I had nothing better to do on a Saturday night than send messages to strangers on Facebook.
Then again, unsettling as it was, there I sat on my recliner, doing just that.