Betting on the Brainiac: a Sweet Romantic Comedy

8. Chapter Eight

Who does that?

Who thinks “I would like to help this girl I barely know with her hot-car problem?”

Oliver Locke, that’s who.

Probably Ruby too, I think as she walks into the kitchen from work. I can always tell when she’s been at the library because she carries a bright canvas tote bag over her shoulder instead of her purse.

When Ruby set up Sami with our neighbor, Josh, this past spring, she won Sami’s reserved parking space. This is a big deal anywhere in Austin, but especially in a condo development like ours, where we’re all friendly until we’re battling for one of the unassigned parking spaces at the end of the night.

But it didn’t matter anyway, because Josh gave Sami his other designated spot. That’s fine by Ruby. I’m the only one who still has to hike in from the boonies when the good spots fill up.

“Get me anything good?” I ask as she steps through our sliding door that leads in from our small back patio area. It’s surrounded by a low fence and looks out on the parking lot. Directly at Ruby’s silver Civic, taunting me from its designated space.

“Not today,” Ruby says. “I’m waiting on the new Mimi Matthews book for you. But I got the new Susan Orlean for me, plus one about cadavers for Ava that a patron said was good.”

“I can wait for a Mimi book,” I say. “So Oliver.”

She rests her tote bag on the table where I’m eating half a cantaloupe with a spoon. “What about him? Everything working out okay?”

“Yeah. I barely notice he’s there. Works out fine. But is he . . .” I pause, trying to find the right word. “Does he do nice things for you for no reason?”

Her eyebrows go up. “Like what? Buy me flowers nice? Or bring over an extra Coke if he knows I’m at Charlie’s?”

“I mentioned my car seats were too hot yesterday, and today he brought me a sunshade for my windshield. Is that normal?”

“Why would you think that’s weird?”

“Because I’m still suspicious you’re up to something?”

She pulls out a chair and plucks an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. “Bestie, all I know about this is that I didn’t know you needed a sunshade. If I did, it’s the kind of thing I would have done for you, and I don’t even want to date you.”

“So he’s just being a nice guy.”

She nods as she takes a bite of her apple. “Very Oliver,” she says when she’s done chewing. “I told you, you guys don’t fit. I’ll find you someone that will make your head spin. Now excuse me while I go change for dinner with Niles.”

“Wait. I want to get something nice for Oliver. What should I give him?”

“As a thank you?”

“Yes.” But also so we’ll feel even. I hate the feeling of anyone holding something over me, whether it’s money or a favor I owe. “What kind of stuff does he like?”

She shrugs. “Just pay attention to him like he did to you, and you’ll be able to figure something out.”

My phone buzzes, and I glance down. Text from my dad.

“But Oliver and I only see each other in the parking lot.”

“It was enough for him to see right away what you needed. Can’t be that hard,” she says.

My dad texts again, and once again, I ignore it. “But you know him. You’ve hung out, right?”

“He’s hung out with Charlie and me, yeah. But I don’t know him well enough to tell you his favorites beyond the brand of beer he buys or something. Now let me go get ready.”

“You look cute. Just wear that.”

She’s got on a Kelly-green dress with Swiss dots and a pair of Mary Jane heels Sami’s grandmother found for Ruby while she was thrifting. I eye them, jealous that we don’t wear the same shoe size, but at QQQ5’7, I have almost half a foot on Ruby.

“He said to dress up, so I need to change.”

“Dress up,” I repeat. Sami comes in from the hallway, earbuds in, her forehead wrinkled. I know that look; she’s dissecting a song. I tap my ears to signal Sami to take them out.

“What’s up?” she asks, removing one of them.

“Niles is taking Ruby out for dinner. He told her to dress nice.”

Sami taps her phone, pulls out the other earbud, and looks at Ruby. “Where is Niles taking you?”

Ruby’s face flickers between looking guilty and stifling a smile. “He made reservations at Spenser’s.”

Sami and I exchange lightning-quick looks.

“Spenser’s is super nice,” Sami says. “Is it a special occasion? Did we forget your anniversary or something?”

I don’t remember them celebrating an anniversary before, most likely because I’m not sure they even know what it is. They sort of fell into dating when we were in college, drifting into it without a hard start.

Ruby bites her bottom lip for a couple of seconds before she says, “He said he has a surprise for me.”

“Ruby! Could this be a proposal?” Sami’s voice sounds excited, but I’d bet anything, inside she’s saying the same thing I am. Please no, please no, please no.

Niles is so not the guy for Ruby for the same reasons you don’t mix mayonnaise in with anything you want to taste good: it only drowns out the flavor. But my job is to be excited for her if this is what she wants, right? I fix my face to project enthusiasm.

“I think so.” Ruby’s smile is nervous, and my heart squeezes. She’s not sure we’ll be happy for her.

“Oh my gosh, Ruby!” I say, hoping it doesn’t sound loud—the kind of loud people always get when they’re faking. I really, really wish I could be sincere. “I didn’t know you guys were talking about this seriously! Are you dying?”

“Yeah, kind of. What do you think I should wear?”

“To the closet,” I say, already on my feet. Sami is right on my heels.

We spend the next fifteen minutes pulling clothes from Ruby’s closet—which is cramped because she hasn’t found time to switch rooms with Ava.

We narrow it down to three possibilities.

“Model this one first,” I tell Ruby. “Booty will be popping, but it’s ladylike and the color is perfect.” It’s turquoise, and Ruby has strong Victoria Justice vibes, so she can get away with saturated colors. It’s sleeveless and ties around the waist in a chic knot. The darts in the back are what make the booty magic happen. That, and Ruby’s actual perky bum.

She takes the dress and slips into the bathroom. Once the door is safely shut, I look at Sami and whisper, “Are we okay with this?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Let’s talk about it while she’s at dinner.”

When she walks out, I know before we even add the accessories that this is the dress. She checks her reflection in the closet mirror, smiles, and does a quarter turn to check the booty angle.

“Right as usual,” she says.

“Louder for the people in the back,” I say.

“Nah, don’t have to tell me twice,” Sami says. “I know you’re a fashion genius.”

Given my family business, I’d have to go out of my way not to be.

I squish Ruby in a hug and give her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek.

“This is such a momentous night! Coral lipstick. Order the good wine. I know Ava will be maid of honor, but let me plan the bachelorette party.”

Sami jumps up to make it a group hug. “Definitely coral lipstick, definitely don’t let Madi plan the bachelorette party, and I would be pretty happy with no satin, but I’ll wear whatever you want me to.”

Ruby squeals. “I can’t believe this, besties.” Neither can we. “Now let me go so I can get ready.”

We release her and leave her room, Sami throwing heart hands before she pulls Ruby’s door shut behind us. Then she grabs my arm and hustles me back to the kitchen.

“Ow.” I pull away and rub my bicep. “You’re too little to be that strong.”

“Quiet, Iron Woman. Are we supposed to do something?”

I plop onto a kitchen chair. “If you’re sure your friend is about to marry the absolute wrong guy, do you try to talk her out of it? Or do you keep your mouth shut so you’re there to pick up the pieces eventually?”

Sami gives a deep sigh. “You know who would know?”

“Ruby.”

She points, like That.

“We could be wrong,” I say.

“We’re not wrong.”

I slump. “You’re right. He’s not the one.”

Sami’s eyes go out of focus, and she starts tapping her fingers against her thigh. I wait almost a full minute before I interrupt.

“Samuel Sami Sam? Are you writing a song?”

She blinks and looks at me before muttering, “You say I let our love die, but when did you ever try to find the things that make me tick.” She walks out, fingers still tapping.

Yeah, she’s in lyrics mode. I guess it’s up to me to make a judgment call.

I’ll send Ruby off with a smile, then text Ava and tell her to come home from work and to bring Joey over too. A proposal is big. But a wedding is huge, and if anyone will know whether we should keep it from getting to that point, it’s Ruby’s childhood best friend and her favorite brother.