Chapter 2
Joshua
Chris threw a dart at the board, hitting pretty close to the bull’s eye. He rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to be going first,” he crowed.
I ignored the taunt and lined up at the throw line. Holding the dart lightly, I aimed. Chris coughed just as I let go of the barrel, but it didn’t faze me. My dart stuck closer to the center and I nodded with satisfaction. A couple of blondes at a table nearby raised their colorful martinis in a salute. I nodded at them, too. Not a smile—I didn’t want it interpreted the wrong way.
I held my next dart, lining up my throw.
Chris fake coughed again. I rolled my eyes and tossed the dart anyway. Not the best shot, but not the worst, either.
“That’s fuckin’ poor sportsmanship,” I said, whacking Chris lightly on the back of the head.
“That’s what makes this game so damn fun,” he replied with a smile, whacking me back. “Uh oh, speaking of games…”
The two blondes from the nearby table had gotten up and were walking over toward us. They looked like sex personified—all luscious curves and red lips and fuck-me heels.
I looked at Chris, feeling panicked. I didn’t need this tonight. Or any night. I had Allison.
“This is all you, man,” Chris said. “They’re not interested in me.”
“But I’m not interested in them,” I said. “Don’t you dare leave me here, man.”
Chris held up his empty pint glass. “I’ll get us another round. You deal with Hot Thing One and Hot Thing Two.”
As the women maneuvered over to me, bending and twisting to dodge occupied chairs and tables, all I could do was compare them to Allison and mentally list the ways that they fell short. Their breasts were all wrong. Too high, too large. Allison’s breasts were one hundred percent natural and the perfect handfuls. Their make-up looked like it was trying to make them fit into one ideal of beauty—my old ideal, if I was being honest with myself. Allison’s make-up accentuated the good parts of her that were already there—her sexy smattering of freckles, her deep blue eyes. Their dresses left little to the imagination, which would be fun if I were still that guy.
But I wasn’t that guy anymore. I was Allison’s guy.
“Hey, handsome,” one of the women said. Her voice was low and throaty, a bedroom voice.
I was struck again by what Jeremy had said at dinner with Allison and Jess—that they were classy, and money couldn’t buy class. He was exactly right.
“We come as a set,” the other said. “What do you think about getting out of here—”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I’m seeing someone who more than meets my needs. But go order yourselves another round. It’s on me.”
They pouted prettily, and Bedroom Voice said, “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be right over there.”
I nodded, but I didn’t smile, and I turned back to the darts. I’d kill Chris for abandoning me.
Chris came back with our beers, giving me that shit-eating grin. “Did you just turn down all of that?”
“Yeah.” I lined my darts up along the edge of the table.
“So Allison’s it for you, then?”
“Yeah, she is.”
He didn’t look at me, instead lining up his own darts. “That’s awesome, man. Does she know?”
I took a swig of beer. “I think so.”
He stared off into space for a minute, then grabbed a dart and lined up at the throw line. “Is it everything you’d hoped?”
I waited until he was just about to let go of his dart and then shouted, “Yes!”
His throw went wild. “You made my dart land off the island, you bastard,” he said.
I laughed and handed him his next dart. “I won’t do it again. Just seemed fair, though, after all of your coughing.”
“What? I can’t help it if I’m coming down with something.”
“Yeah,” I laughed, “you’re coming down with a losing streak.”
The idea of losing made me think of Jamie, and how much he’d seemed to be losing control lately. “Hey, Chris,” I said.
“Yeah?”
He lined up and took his next shot.
“Have you noticed anything strange about Jamie lately?”
He exhaled loudly, threw his dart, and hit the bull’s eye. “You mean, how he’s been a jealous asshole ever since Allison became VP?”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, that obvious.”
“Do you think I did the right thing in promoting her? She deserves it, but maybe I should’ve gone about it differently.”
“Yes, Allison sure as hell deserved the promotion. She’s a marketing and idea wizard. She’s brought this amazing energy to the company—I know you’ve seen it, too.”
Yes, I’d seen it. I nodded that he should go on.
“So, don’t flay me for talking shit about your brother, but he needs to step up his game if he wants to succeed. He hasn’t given anyone a single usable idea since he’s been there.”
“I think he knows that.” I lined up to take my shot at the dart board. The barrel was smooth between my thumb and forefinger. When I let it loose, Chris didn’t make a sound, but I missed the shot. “Fuck. I think I’m too hard on him.”
Chris’s next shot won the match. As loser, I had to buy a round, so I ordered us some whiskey. When I got back to our table, a man and woman, obviously out on a first date from the hesitant way they were looking and acting with each other, gathered the darts to use the board. She obviously knew what she was doing and how to throw; he obviously did not. I watched them, curious how it would play out. Would he allow her to teach him, or would he get all macho and pretend he knew what he was doing?
Chris clinked my glass with his. “To women.”
“To women.”
He took a long drink. “You know,” he said, his voice low and mumbling, “I can’t believe a dick like you met the perfect girl.”
“Ha. Thanks, friend.”
“You know I don’t mean it like that.” He loosened his tie. “I just always thought I’d be the one to settle down. I thought it would be with Maria, you know.”
I sat back. He’d never talked about his ex-girlfriend, even when they were dating. Maybe he’d thought I was too immature to understand, since I was still collecting women like cars. When Chris and Maria broke up, he sort of shut down for a while. He’d play darts with me every couple of weeks, but he didn’t even laugh for months.
“How long were you two together?” I asked.
“Two years.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. I should’ve known something was up, though. She never wanted to talk about the future. She seemed more concerned with whether I was paying enough attention to her. Whether I was taking her out as much as her friends’ boyfriends were taking them out. Where we were going, whether we’d be seen there. She’d put photos of us up on social media, saying where we’d gone and what we’d had to eat. I was a fucking status update to her, not a boyfriend.”
I’d dated that type, too, although mine were never long-term. I was more of an end-goal, not a hope for the future. I could remember being tagged in status updates like I was some kind of prize or bucket list item. I’d never cared, though, because I had been using those women just like they’d been using me.
Chris rubbed his face, dragging his palm over the stubble. Then he took another long, careful drink. “At the time,” he continued, “I didn’t know any of that. I just thought I loved her. Problem is, I don’t see myself loving anyone like that ever again.”
He finished his whiskey and we watched the couple playing darts. The man deserved props—he was letting his date show him how to hold the arrow and how to let it go. It was hard to give in like that sometimes, but for the right woman, that loss of control and admitting you don’t know everything—it could be worth it. It was worth it, with Allison. Sometimes I felt like I was floundering, totally out of control. She brought that out in me, but she grounded me at the same time.
I wanted that for everyone. Especially Chris.
“I think you should keep trying,” I told him. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’ve been with me since before Scintilla, before all this shit with Jamie. And you deserve to find the right girl.”
Chris stared into his empty glass. I thought of getting another round, but he looked too miserable. This guy needed coffee and Prozac or some shit like that, not more depressants.
“I wouldn’t even know where to look,” he said. “None of the women that go to the places I go are my type.”
“Maybe you should try going to different places.”
We were quiet for a minute, watching the dart players. They’d finished their match, and the woman pushed the man into a chair and climbed into his lap. Oh, the rewards of being humble and teachable were great, I thought, watching her thread her fingers through his hair. I was starting to miss Allison something fierce.
But Chris was watching them, too, and he was looking lonely and miserable.
“Hey,” I said, snapping my fingers. “There’s this great dating app you could try. Ever heard of Scintilla?”
Chris snorted and flicked the outside of his empty glass. “Yeah. You’re just trying to get more people to download the app.”
“Have you seen the numbers? I don’t need more people to download it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen the numbers. I fuckin’ compile those reports for you, don’t I?”
“So think about it, dumbass,” I said. “It helped me find ‘The One.’ Maybe it’ll help you, too.”
Chris would probably never admit it, but he looked sort of thoughtful. He looked like I imagined I had looked when I first watched that Scintilla commercial and decided to give my own company a try.