Seven
Libby
“When was the last time you had Mozart groomed, Libby?”
“It’s been a couple of months,” I said.
“Girl, you really need to get that under control. His hair’s growing like wildfire,” Joanna said.
“When I can find some time in my schedule, I’ll put it on there,” I said.
“Time in your schedule? Work keeping you that busy?”
“Between work and trying to find a new job, yeah,” I said.
“You’re trying to find a new job? Since when!? Anderson is going to be so upset.”
“Since this past weekend.”
“What happened this past weekend?” she asked.
“My cousin’s wedding, remember?” I asked.
“And how does a wedding translate into you finally taking my advice?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I just… saw people there who had these wonderful lives and happy smiles on their faces. And I want that, you know? I want those smiles and that kind of happiness. I’m content with where I’m at, but I’m not happy I don’t think.”
“Well, it’s about time you started looking for something. Now would you come sit down? Your wine’s getting warm.”
“Give me a second. I’m cleaning up our plates of Chinese takeout.”
“I’ll do that later if you come sit down and tell me all about these new plans of yours,” she said.
I sat the dirty plates into the sink as Joanna held out her glass of wine for me. I took it from her and grinned, then sat down on the couch next to her. I missed this. I missed having these nights with her. She was the only friend I really had, so seeing her was always a treat. But even she was married with a daughter now, which meant significantly less time with her.
Which meant more time to dwell on how everyone seemed to be leaving me behind in their lives.
“So, what kinds of jobs are you applying for?” Joanna asked.
“The plan is to eventually go back and get my Master’s so I can become a social worker, but I figured with my experience in secretarial work and my Bachelor degree in Psychology I could try to fuse the two.”
“Like…?”
“I don’t know. Seeing if social services offices need secretaries? Or representatives of some sort. It would give me a shoe-in towards the job I really want. Or I could become a career counselor at one of the high schools I tutor at. I’ve got connections in there as well I could probably use.”
“Getting you down to one job that would give you what you can make for yourself now would help out with your crazy schedule. Give you a bit more time to yourself,” she said.
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of time to myself. But I don’t feel like my life is progressing forward or anything. I mean, look at you. You’re married with a baby, and happy as can be.”
“You’re not happy, Libby?”
“Like I said, I’m content. I’ve got my little apartment and I’ve got Mozart. But I’ve stalemated.”
“And the wedding helped you to see this,” Joanna said.
“More or less. I got to catch up with some family and see how their lives have changed. How people have moved on or become successful or found their significant others. They chose the path they wanted and they ran with it. Then… there’s me.”
“I had no idea you were feeling this way. Why haven’t you called me?”
“Because you have your own life. A daughter who needs you more than ever and a husband you love dearly. I don’t want to interrupt that. Besides I work for him, I didn’t want to mix business with pleasure.”
“But you’re my Libby. You mean something to me. You know you can call me anytime you need me.”
“And I appreciate it. I’m just telling you all that happened in my mind over the weekend,” I said.
“So, when do you start putting in applications to these places?”
“I did some preliminary research last night and cleaned up my resume. Once I’m in bed again tonight, I’ll apply to some places before I go to sleep.”
“You mentioned something that’s stuck with me, though.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You mentioned people finding their significant others.”
“Yeah? So?”
“It was the way you said it. Is that something you want to find?” she asked.
My mind rushed back to Graham. The way he’d kissed me and commanded my body. The way he took what he wanted and wound me up tightly before shooting me off into the sunset. I closed my eyes and sighed, then took a big gulp of my wine.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Joanna said with a grin.
“I don’t think someone like that is out there for me,” I said.
“Oh come on. Stop being such a turd about it. Have you ever thought about making a dating profile?”
“The thought’s come to my mind a time or two,” I said with a grin.
“So… why don’t you?”
“Because most of those applications and sites are filled with guys who simply want hook ups. Or even better they stand you up.”
“But if you weed through all of them to find the ones that aren’t, you could find your forever man, Libby. But it takes work, just like building a career does.”
“I don’t know…”
“Have you had a bad experience with one or something?” she asked.
My mind fled back to Graham again. How easy it flowed between the two of us and how he’d made me smile. How his handsome demeanor and his cool, easy way of going with the flow had been in stark contrast to my constant anxiety-ridden state. I knew I’d probably never see him again unless I told Logan our little secret when he got back from his honeymoon, but he made me feel like I could get out there. Try something new. Hopefully avoid some more Tony’s in the process. I smiled at the memory as I took another sip of my wine, then shook my head as Joanna grinned at me.
“Then give me your phone. We’re setting you up a dating profile.”
I handed her my phone and she created an account for me. I decided not to tell her about Graham for now. It was nice, keeping him my little secret. I watched Joanna type away on the application she’d downloaded onto my phone, then she scooted closer to me as pictures of men flooded my screen.
“It’s like most apps,” Joanna said.
“Mates dot com?” I asked.
“Yep. It’s a U.K.-based dating app, but they’re branching into the U.S. at lightning speed. Haven’t you seen the commercials on television?”
“I don’t watch much television,” I said. “It’s mostly Netflix over here.”
“Well, it’s a good site. I’m sure you’ll find someone here. But it’s set up like most dating apps are nowadays. You swipe left if you don’t like them, right if you do. Swiping right puts them in your messages so you can talk to them, and swiping left blocks you from them so they don’t have a chance to swipe on you and message you.”
“What if I swipe right on them and they swipe left on me?” I asked.
“Then their name grays out if it’s in your messages. Not the best system, but it works. And it gives you a chance to reach out to them before they judge you on what you look like.”
“You saying I’m not pretty?” I asked with a grin.
“I’m saying I know you’re self-conscious about how you look. This app doesn’t require both of you to agree on it before you can contact him, so it gives you an extra shot to show them the Libby I know to exist. You’re hot as hell, Libby. You’ve got curves most women try to get surgically.”
“I don’t know why,” I said, murmuring.
“But having that extra security blanket might help you to get bolder when it comes to your dating life.”
“You just want to scroll through guys with me, don’t you?” I asked.
“Oh, hell yeah I do.”
Joanna and I sat on the couch, swiping through guys as we sipped on our wine. Joanna kept pointing out details she liked. The color of a guy’s eyes or how big his arms were. How kind his smile seemed or how chiseled his stomach was. But I wasn’t looking for that. Not really. I was more concerned about what they enjoyed. The things they liked doing. It didn’t make sense for me to try and talk with a guy who enjoyed sailing and parachuting when I was a homebody who read books, binged television shows, and ate Chinese takeout more than I cooked in.
“What about him?” Joanna asked. “He’s pretty cute.”
I almost spat out my wine once I figured out who I was looking at.
I swiped right immediately and clicked on my messages. His picture was there, with that beautiful smile and those piercing blue eyes. I tapped his picture and his profile popped up, and I started flipping through his pictures. There were more of him. Pictures of him smiling in a bathing suit with his rippling abs. Pictures of him on a luxurious airplane ride in a tailored suit
Pictures of him hunched over a book reading as his arms bulged from his button-down shirt.
“Oh shit. He’s a reader like you, too. Message him, Libby. Message him now.”
It was Graham.
I was staring at Graham.
I flipped back to my messages as a smile crawled across my face. I felt Joanna get off the couch and head towards the kitchen. The glugging of wine could be heard as she filled her glass back up, then she came and sat back down beside me before peering over my shoulder.
“Did you send him something? What did you say?” she asked.
“I asked him what book he was reading in the picture. I can’t tell which one it is.”
“That’s it?” she asked. “No cute little pick up line or something to make you stand out?”
“I don’t think I’ll need it with him,” I said with a grin.
“Have you seen those pictures of his house we just flipped through?”
“What makes you think those are of his house?” I asked.
“Why the hell else would he have them up there? What guy puts random pictures of a house that’s not his on his dating profile?”
“To make women think it’s his house when really he lives in a shack on the side of the road?” I asked.
“But that suit. I know my suits. That’s a tailored Armani suit. This man, whoever he is? He’s loaded. Go back. Let me see his face again.”
“Joanna-”
“Just… go back, Libby.”
I flipped back to the main picture on his profile and Joanna gasped. She ripped my phone from my hand as her wine sloshed around in her glass, threatening to spill over onto her lap.
“What in the world?” I asked. “What is wrong with you?”
“You have no idea who that is, do you?” Joanna asked.
“It says his name is Graham,” I said. “Says here it’s the owner and CEO of his own company.”
“You really need to get out more,” she said breathlessly. “Sweetheart, that’s Graham Alexander.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
Joanna looked at me as if I’d swallowed a bug.
“That name doesn’t ring a bell at all?” she asked.
“Is it supposed to?”
“You pass the damn building every day when you go to the law firm,” she said. “Galex Technologies? That massive black building with the tinted windows and the valet parking?”
“Wait… what?” I asked.
“Galex? G. Alex? Graham Alexander? Sweetheart, the man you just messaged is Graham Alexander. The creator and CEO of the biggest technological security company in the world.”
I felt my stomach drop to my toes as my phone lit up in my hand. I looked down at my messages, watching Graham’s name blink at me. The pieces started falling into place with our conversations at the wedding. What he did for a living. How he mentioned he worked too hard and didn’t have time for a traditional relationship. How wonderful he had looked in that very expensive tuxedo.
I felt my face paling as Joanna looked over my shoulder.
“Did he respond? Shit, Libby. He responded. Click the message! What did he say?”
I opened up the message as my hands began to tremble.
And we meet again. Libby, it is wonderful to see your face pop up on my phone. The book I’m reading is one of my guilty pleasure books, Gone Girl. Ever read it?
I scanned the message over and over again as a bright smile crossed my cheeks.
“‘And we meet again’? Libby, what in the world does that mean? Do you know this man? And if so, then you have some serious stories to tell. He’s talking to you like he knows you.”
“I know he is,” I said with a grin.
Then, I sent him a message back.
I have read it. Even went to see the movie. Though I’m one of those people who will always devoutly believe the book is better than the movie.
“Okay, I want all the details. What have I missed, what have you left out, and how do you know the nation’s richest technological billionaire?” Joanna asked.
“If I tell you, you have to keep it to yourself, okay? It’s not… like me to do things like this. I’m still sort of wrapping my mind around it myself,” I said.
“Does this have anything to do with the revelation from this past weekend? How you want to move forward in your life and branch out?”
“Sort of, yes,” I said with a grin.
“Well, then I’m messaging the husband, telling him I’m crashing here, then we’re opening up the second bottle of wine I brought.”
“There’s another one?” I asked.
“Yep. Give me your glass. You're good with me crashing on your couch, right?”
“You know I am.”
“Good. Now give me that empty wine glass. It’s practically begging to be filled again.”
I grinned as my phone lit up in my hand again.
“What did billionaire handsome man say?” Joanna asked.
“He said, ‘I subscribe to that theory as well, but I don’t get out to watch a lot of movies anyway.’”
“Tell him you’ll gladly make a movie with him,” she said.
“Joanna!”
“What!? He’s hot! I’d consider it,” she said as she poured me another glass of wine.
I typed another message back to him before I closed the dating app.
“Wait, what happened? Where did our entertainment for the night go?” Joanna asked.
“Just be patient,” I said with a grin.
Then, my text message tone rang out into the room.
“No… you didn’t,” she said.
“Maybe I did,” I said as I took my glass from her.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Libby?” she asked.
“Do you want to know the story of this past weekend or not?” I asked.
“Oh, I want to know all of it. And leave out none of the details.”