Chapter Three
Lauren
I TAP MY nails along the pink case of my phone, watching TV while checking the time every thirty freaking seconds. My date is five minutes late, and every minute that ticks by tells me this is a horrible idea.
And I think I’m being stood up.
Which bothers me and doesn’t at the same time. This guy doesn’t know me, so I can’t take it personally (but I do.) Because what if Jenny showed him my picture and that was enough of a turn off? I’m not bad looking, but I’m nothing spectacular.
Vader and Sasha lay by my feet, both chewing on various dried cow parts. I take my attention back to the TV, watching Ariel swim through the ocean, longing for a man she can’t have. I love when the Disney Channel plays the classics on the weekend. Though, it’s not like I don’t own every single one of them on DVD.
Ten minutes later, I stand up to change. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the couch and sigh. I went all out tonight. Attempted to curl my hair, heavy eye makeup that even included my eyebrows. According to the millions of beauty pins I went through on Pinterest, that’s a must. It took three tries, but I was able to contour my face.
I’m wearing my best pushup bra, giving my average-sized breasts the biggest boost possible. Over that went a pink dress that showed off my cleavage and hugged my curves. I have on my favorite charm bracelet (all the charms came from childhood vacations to Disney world) and Cinderella earrings. Yeah. I like Disney. A lot.
I’m dressed to the nines with nowhere to go. What a waste of time. I make it into my bedroom when the dogs bark. Is my date finally here? I quickly fluff my hair and pad my way through the living room, standing in the tiny foyer, if you can even call it that.
A car is in front of my house, but no one has gotten out yet. I spy through the living room window. The guy—Luke is his name—looks like he’s on the phone. A few more minutes tick by before he kills the engine and gets out.
Twenty minutes late.
It might be stupid, but I’m insulted. Yeah, this is a blind date but have some freaking respect. And yeah, I’m taking it personally again. Dammit. I hurry into the kitchen, grab a handful of dog treats, and toss them as far as I can when the doorbell rings. I step into tall heels, grab my purse, and slip on my coat, then sneak onto the porch.
“Hi,” I say, closing the door before Vader can rush out. He’s protective like that. “Sorry, it’s just easier to keep the dogs inside.”
Luke, who is tall, dark, and handsome like Jenny promised, smiles. “Sounds like it.”
I hold out my hand. “I’m Lauren, nice to meet you.”
Luke takes a second to look me over before shaking my hand. Does that mean I met his approval?
“Luke. Shall we get going?”
“Yeah,” I say and snap my mouth shut. I will not comment on how late he is … I will not comment on how late he is. “Where are we going?”
“La Cantina,” he says and walks ahead of me to his black BMW. “My buddy’s working the bar tonight and can get us free margaritas.”
“Sounds fun,” I say. I’ve never heard of that restaurant, but I do like Mexican food. And watermelon margaritas. Though if I get one, I need to drink it slow. Tequila and I don’t mix. Or maybe we do mix, and mix too well? It doesn’t take much to get me shit-faced and blacked out when it comes to drinking tequila. Been there, done that in college.
I get in the car and settle onto the leather seat. It smells new, and everything is impeccably clean. Luke plops into the driver’s side and starts the car. Rap music blasts from the speakers. We make it down two blocks before he turns the volume to a level where we can speak.
“So, your sister-in-law tells me you’re a vet?”
I mentally roll my eyes. Why do people always think I’m a veterinarian? Do they not know what a tech is?
“I’m a vet tech. Very much like an animal nurse.”
“Ah, so you want to be a vet then.”
I do, but am able to pull apart the subtle insult in his statement. Do all nurses want to be doctors? Nope. Do all techs want to be vets? You bet your ass not.
“Yes. I just applied to vet school. I’m waiting on the reply now.”
“I’m a lawyer,” he says without me having to ask. “And I just got in at the Harrison firm. You’ve heard of them, I’m sure.”
“Uh, probably. Do they have a commercial with a cheesy yet catchy song?” I ask and turn to him, smiling.
“No,” he says, void of any humor. “The Harrison firm doesn’t need commercials.” I raise my eyebrows and nod. He tells me about his hot-shot firm the rest of the way, talking himself up the entire time.
Maybe he’s nervous and trying to impress me … or maybe this guy is just an asshole and that’s why his girlfriend left him.
La Cantina is on the outskirts of town, bordering the line between where I feel safe and where I’d never dare go alone at night. Or during the day. It’s just a part of town I’d avoid unless I had a sword-wielding Prince Charming at my side. And by sword I mean guns, because I’m pretty sure this is where the high school kids come to buy drugs.
We wait for a table in the busy restaurant, then get seated near the bar. Luke leaves me to talk to his bartender friend, and after ten minutes, I look around and see him talking it up with a pretty blonde behind the counter. So that’s his “buddy.” Interesting.
He comes back with two drinks in hand. I take a sip of mine and recoil. It’s so strong.
“So, Lauren,” he starts. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun?”
I dip a chip into salsa and look at Luke. Fun. My definition of fun probably isn’t his. “I like to read and watch TV. I’m a sucker for fantasy shows. And I foster dogs, so I spend a lot of time training them. I love anything Disney and have been getting into online computer games a bit lately. One of my friends raves about League of Legends.”
He keeps looking at me, and I realize he’s waiting for me to continue and tell him something he can agree is “fun.” But that’s what I like to do. I like to hang out at home with a good book or a good show. I like to cuddle with my dogs and pretend I’m going to go off on an adventure where I battle villains and meet Prince Charming.
“Do you work out or anything?”
I nod. “I jog with the dogs. I’m not really a fan of running. I mostly do it in case I find a wardrobe or something that takes me to a magical land. I want to be ready for an epic battle.”
Luke looks at me like I’m a circus freak. He’s never heard of Narnia? He’s the circus freak.
“What about you?” I say and eat the chip I’ve been holding.
“I hang with friends. Work out. Play video games on the weekend when I’m not playing football with the guys.”
I mentally sigh. He doesn’t need to go on to explain. He’s basic; one of those people who likes mainstream stuff just to be mainstream, and anyone who doesn’t blindly float down the river of social norms is labeled, and not in a good way. People like him still apply the middle school caste system, and he’s a jock and I’m a nerd.
Well, fuck you, Luke, and your high-paying job and good looks. I sit back and smile, covering up how crappy I’m feeling inside. If he doesn’t like me, his loss … blah, blah, blah, I know. But still … no one likes to be given that look.
We make awkward small talk until our food comes, and then he starts telling me about a case he’s working on. He knows his client is guilty of discriminating against pregnant women, and “can see why.” And now I just can’t with him.
“But that’s illegal,” I say. “And you’re supposed to uphold the law, right?”
He waves his hand in the air. “That’s what cops do.” He leans in. “And, honey, I make hell of a lot more than a damn cop.”
I almost choke on my taco. So he’s saying he doesn’t have to uphold the law as long as he gets paid, right? Wow. This guy is a winner. I have no idea why his long-term relationship ended. I roll my eyes, not even attempting to hide it.
“Hiring a pregnant lady cost my client’s company. Filling her position during leave takes away too. And when they have one, they tend to have more. Having a baby makes women all wack-a-do crazy with hormones and shit.”
I scoop up the last of my rice and beans, using my fork to push it onto my chip. I finish chewing, swallow, and take a big sip of my margarita. Then I grab my purse and coat.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say. I get up and walk right out the door. I call Katie as I walk, and get her voicemail. She’s probably out with her friends and can’t hear her phone right now, and most likely isn’t in the position to drive anyway.
I step onto the covered patio, getting an instant chill. Misty rain is falling around me, and the air is thick with the threat of a storm. I put my coat on and call Jenny. She doesn’t answer either. She’s probably working and won’t be off until later. I try my brother next; still no answer. I sigh. I could call my mom, but I don’t want to make her drive all this way. Julie is another option, but it’s late and she has her kids.
I need to get away from Luke before I throw a drink in his face or stab him with my fork. He makes my skin crawl, and the thought of getting in the car alone with him is quite frightening. I look around the dimly lit street. There is a bar not far from here, definitely within walking distance.
It’s called The Roadhouse and ninety percent of the parking lot is filled with motorcycles, despite the chilly air and the threat of heavy rain. If anything, I can go in, order a drink, and wait for one of my family members to answer. Jenny owes me; after all, she set this disaster of a date up. It’s getting late, so she should be off soon, and I’m not that far from the hospital for her to come pick me up. I try Katie one more time then push off the side of the building, walking toward the glow of the neon sign.