Chapter Two
Kristen
“Hey,” I said, slipping into the booth that Melody had picked by the window. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Were you at work this whole time?” she asked, scanning my outfit.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Just finished.”
“You know he can’t make you work like that,” she pointed out.
I smiled at her. She was always so defensive on my behalf. Melody and I had met at the gym a couple of months ago when I’d first moved to San Diego. She was open, honest, and extroverted, and we had hit it off right away. She had smoothed the transition for me and made me feel at home in an alien state.
“He’s not making me work late,” I said. “I choose to work late.”
Melody raised her eyebrows. “Why?” she asked pointedly.
“Uh…because… I actually enjoy working,” I said.
Her expression of incredulity only deepened. “You’re a secretary,” she pointed out.
She didn’t say it with malice or judgment. It was just the way Melody was. She didn’t mince her words, and she certainly didn’t tiptoe around uncomfortable moments. Some might have found her to be brash and rude, but to me, she was a refreshing change of pace from the people I knew back home.
“Personal assistant,” I corrected.
“Big difference.”
“There is a difference,” I said.
“Spare me the speech,” Melody said. “I know the real reason you like working so much.”
“Enlighten me,” I smiled sarcastically.
“Your boss.”
The smile faltered on my face, and Melody let out a burst of laughter. “See? I told you I knew.”
“I… That’s…uh… That’s not the reason.”
“Very convincing,” she said, giving me a wink.
Thankfully, I was spared more stuttering attempts at denial when the waiter appeared between us with two menus in hand. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.
“Are you on the menu?” Melody asked, leaning in towards him like a heat-seeking missile.
I suppressed my laughter and looked at the obviously amused expression on the waiter’s face. He was skinny, tall, and good-looking, but in a nerdy sort of way. I wouldn’t have thought he’d be Melody’s type, but I’d long since learned that my friend didn’t stick to just one type. She didn’t discriminate between men, and she had been vocal about that since we had first met.
The waiter smiled. “Unfortunately not,” he said, trying to conceal his blush.
“Shame,” Melody said, completely undeterred. “Well…the night’s young.”
“I’m going to jump in here,” I said. “And give you my order.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” Melody said, looking affronted. “Does she look like a ma’am to you?”
“He’s only being polite, Melody,” I told her.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, in a voice that was decidedly seductive. “Do I look like a ma’am to you?”
The waiter smiled. “No,” he said. “You definitely don’t.”
“Good, I’m glad we got that straightened out,” she said. “I was just about to pounce on you. But you know…I might pounce regardless.”
“Salmon,” I blurted out. “I’ll have the salmon.”
Melody shot me an irritated glance, but I smiled and ignored her. “And a glass of the Merlot, please.”
“Very good, ma-uh…very good, miss,” the waiter said, with a pointed glance towards Melody. “And for you?”
She gave him a little wink. “Since you’re not on the menu, I’ll have to go with the mushroom risotto,” she said. “But just so you know, I intend to order something to go.”
The waiter walked away looking exceptionally pleased, and I rolled my eyes at Melody. “That was subtle.”
“You should know by now that subtlety is not my strong suit.”
“Apparently, neither is demureness.”
She snorted. “When did a demure woman ever get anything done in this day and age,” she said dismissively.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in a relationship?” I demanded.
“Oh…that,” Melody said, sounding annoyed. “That’s over.”
“What?” I said incredulously. “You and Fred are done?”
“As of this morning,” she nodded.
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “Things just fizzled out. Even while we were having sex this morning, I felt the chemistry disappear into thin air.”
“You told me three weeks ago that you thought he might be the one.”
“That was three weeks ago.”
I laughed. “I really should have known better.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I’ve been in California for five months now. I’ve known you for almost all of those months, and in that time, you’ve had two different boyfriends, both of which you claimed were your soul mate.”
“I believed it at the time,” Melody said defensively.
“Okay, I can understand you saying that the first time around,” I said. “But every guy you meet can’t be the one?”
“They’re not. They’re all guys who have the potential to become ‘the one,’” she explained. “I give them all the benefit of the doubt until they prove me wrong.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” I asked curiously.
“What?”
“That there is such a thing as ‘the one?’”
“Of course, I believe it,” she said with certainty. “I believe there’s a perfect match out there for every single one of us.”
I frowned. “What about men and women who’ve been married multiple times and claim to have loved all their spouses?”
“You can have more than one soul mate,” she said easily. “You just have to be lucky.”
“You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?” I teased.
“If I did, I would be married by now and living on the east coast of France.”
I laughed. “Is that the dream?”
“Oh, definitely,” she nodded. “Until then, however, I need to keep searching.”
“For your soul mate?”
“Naturally.”
“Have you ever considered the possibility that your soul mate might live in another country? Maybe he lives on the other side of the world? For all you know, he could be living in Mongolia as we speak.”
Melody laughed. “I guess I better gear up for a world soul mate hunting tour.”
I shook my head at her. “You are crazy.”
“And, you are a pessimist,” she said accusingly. “Seriously, what is wrong with believing in true love?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t grow up to see true love as realistic,” I admitted.
“How tragic,” Melody said, looking at me as though I were a lost puppy.
“It’s not tragic,” I laughed. “It’s just how I was raised, I guess.”
“Let me guess; your parents had a bad marriage?”
I hesitated. I never really liked talking about my childhood or my adolescence. They were parts of my life that I wanted to leave behind. It wasn’t because they were too painful. It was because they weighed me down. The burden of my mother’s past was stiff around my shoulders, and there had been moments growing up when I’d felt suffocated. Getting out of Michigan was the best decision of my life, and a part of me wished that I’d had the courage to do it sooner.
I thought of that pivotal moment when I’d made the decision to leave Michigan. I had been staring at the old photograph I had stolen from my father’s memory box when I was seven. I had looked at it so often over the years that it was frayed and worn at the edges, but it still had power over me. Somehow, I knew it was time for me to do something about all the questions that had been collecting in my mind since I was old enough to ask the right ones.
“Uh no,” I said, after a short pause. “My parents weren’t even married in the first place. My father was around only sporadically, and after I turned twelve…he disappeared from my life for good.”
“Geez,” Melody said, whistling under her breath. “That must have been—”
“It is what it is,” I interrupted, clearing my throat to stop myself from getting too emotional. “The point is I saw my mother spend the first few years of my childhood being madly in love, and then suddenly, her love story didn’t turn out to be the magical fairytale she had envisioned for herself.”
“Can’t say that I blame her,” Melody said. “Especially if the man I loved abandoned me and my kid.”
“Oh, she was to blame, too,” I said before I could stop myself.
“What?”
I shrugged. “I just mean that she was not the victim. Trust me.”
Melody raised her eyebrows. “I feel like there’s more to that story.”
“Not really,” I said. “My mother moved on, and in time, she realized that it was stupid to have thought of my father as the only man for her. She got on with her life, and so did I.”
“You never missed not having him around?”
“He was only playing at being a father,” I said, without much emotion. “He wasn’t really my father.”
She sighed. “It all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Your cynical outlook on life and love,” she said dramatically. “You’re a scarred child.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m really not.”
“You’re from a broken home,” Melody continued like she hadn’t heard me speak.
I laughed. “Oh boy.”
“You’ve closed your heart to love.”
“I haven’t done any such thing,” I said. “I’m just not prepared to believe that every single guy I meet may potentially be the love of my life. Some men come into your life for short bursts and others may stick around a little longer, that’s all.”
“And, what category do you think your boss fits into?” Melody asked slyly.
I pursed my lips. “He’s my boss,” I pointed out. “Nothing can happen there.”
“Why not?”
Because he doesn’t know my secret, I thought to myself, and if he did, he’d probably want nothing to do with me. I didn’t say that, however. I liked Melody, but there were some things I would be taking to my grave.
“Did you miss the part where I said he is my boss?” I reiterated.
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve slept with two of my bosses.”
“Melody!”
“The only reason I didn’t sleep with my third boss was because she was a woman, and unfortunately, I’m totally straight.”
I laughed. “You could write a book about your conquests.”
“And, you could write a book on how to effectively change the subject,” Melody said. “You have to admit; you find him attractive, don’t you?”
“He’s a handsome man,” I admitted. “Yes, of course, I find him attractive.”
“But?”
“But I don’t like mixing business and pleasure.”
She sighed. “You’re such a fuddy-duddy,” she complained. “Fine then, your boss is off limits and off your radar. But there are other men in this city, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I smiled.
“Then why aren’t you getting proactive about meeting some of them?” Melody demanded. “The right guy isn’t just going to fall into your lap, you know?”
“It would be so convenient if he did, though,” I sighed.
“I could set you up?”
“No,” I said immediately. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“I’m extremely awkward on first dates,” I said lamely. “And also…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not willing to have sex on the first date,” I said.
“How very old-fashioned of you,” she teased.
“If I do meet someone, I want to wait until I’m comfortable enough to sleep with him.”
“Urgh… How long is that going to be?”
I paused. “Um…a couple of months?”
“Fuck,” Melody said, looking at me as though I had just revealed that I was an alien. “That long?”
“Sex means something to me.”
“Evidently.”
I smiled, wondering how she would react if I told her that I was still a virgin. She would probably go into conniptions right here in the restaurant. It was almost worth doing just so that I could see her reaction. I stayed silent and let her regale me with the choicest titbits of her many sexual escapades, but the whole time, I found myself thinking of Jake Middleton.