5. Chapter 5
Daria
It’s hard to believe that in just a few days, my friend will be married and whisked away to the Bahamas for her honeymoon.
I’m excited she gets to go and do something fun for once.
Like me, Jamie didn’t have the easiest childhood, so she never had the opportunity to travel, but unlike me, she at least had a somewhat stable upbringing with her grandparents.
I never knew my grandparents. Or my dad, for that matter. The only blood-related person I’ve ever known was my biological mother. But it felt as if she loved her addiction more than me. Then when she couldn’t—wouldn’t—properly care for me, I was put in foster care at age five.
I’m not bitter about it anymore, though.
Not like I used to be. Especially since I’ve grown, learned, and changed to adapt to whatever my current surroundings are.
I’m immensely proud of how I’ve managed to become a college graduate all on my own, without the help of those who supposedly “cared” about me.
And I’ve taught myself how to save my earnings, manage money effectively, and provide for myself.
Being unable to rely on others has made me stronger, more resilient. When the tough stuff comes up, I pull up my big girl panties and power through like the boss I am.
I’ve dealt with some pretty big blows too.
Besides being basically abandoned by my parents, I lived in an abusive foster home from the ages of nine to eleven and subsequently ran away, only to get transferred to home after home after that.
I was admittedly difficult to deal with, and it seemed like no one had the patience for a child who didn’t know how to work through her trauma.
Somehow, I even had the strength to walk away from my bio mom forever when all she wanted was for me to support her in her addiction the moment I turned eighteen.
So why, when I’m faced with something as miniscule and insignificant as having to deal with Parker’s brother, Dane, on a wedding related project, do my palms grow clammy and my heart rate skyrocket?
It’s ridiculous. Totally unacceptable. And yet I’m helpless to stop my body’s irrational overreaction to the well-muscled man from my nightmares.
But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Jamie. So here I am, sitting across from the world’s worst liar in a dimly lit downtown pub, wishing we didn’t have to choose a last-minute replacement for the band that Jamie and Parker hired.
When Jamie called me at work today frantic, asking what they should do, I did what any good friend would do. I calmed her down by telling her it would all be alright and agreed to text any and every person in my contacts to see if we could scrounge up a replacement.
An old college friend recommended a local band who just so happened to be playing at this little pub tonight, so I volunteered to scope them out while Jamie and Parker made their final wedding cake selection.
Little did I know that Parker had assigned Dane to be his ears for said replacement band.
“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment,” Jamie had said when I told her I’d be checking out the band for her. “It’s just that Parker really wants to make sure Dane likes the music and approves. I think it has to do with the whole thing being on his friend Theo’s property.”
Instead of pitching a fit that I would have a plus one in the form of a wannabe body builder, I swallowed my pride and agreed to meet Dane while we both listened to this band and decided whether Jamie and Parker should hire them.
And so far, we’ve barely spoken two words to each other.
Finally, a waitress wearing a short black skirt and denim shirt tied at the waist approaches us. “Hey, there. What can I get you two to drink?”
It sounds like she’s speaking to both of us, but her focus is zeroed in on Dane, and her lips are upturned into a flirty smile as she taps her pencil against the little notepad in her hands.
“Daria?” My eyes snap to the man in front of me as my name rolls off his tongue like he’s said it a thousand times before. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
I narrow my eyes.
The girl ogling him obviously doesn’t care what I want to drink. Can’t he just give her his order first? I decide to pick my battles while it’s still early and turn to the waitress with a smile.
“I’ll have a water with lemon, please.”
She barely spares me a nod, then goes right back to staring at the man who could be my boyfriend, for all she knows. Personally, I feel like it’s rude to stare.
“I’ll have the same,” Dane says, giving her a polite smile of his own.
“Sure.” The waitress jots down our drink orders on the notepad as if she might forget them. “You guys here to see the band play tonight?” Again, her eyes lock on Dane, but now she sways toward him with her head cocked to the side.
“Yeah, we are,” Dane answers. “My brother is getting married, and we’re here to see if they’d be a good fit for the reception.”
“Aw, I love weddings,” the waitress gushes, bouncing on her toes. “Do you happen to need a…plus one? To his wedding, I mean.”
I blink and gape at the sheer brazenness of this woman. Dane shifts in his seat and clears his throat like he too wasn’t expecting such a forthright invitation.
“Um, no, actually.” Then, to my complete and utter surprise, he tilts his head toward me, as if to imply that we’re together.
My irritation peaks, and I’m about to say something when she pipes up, waving the notepad in front of her chest. “Oh, shoot, I’m sorry.” She gestures between the two of us. “I didn’t realize you two were—”
“No, please. You’re fine,” I cut her off. "We’re not—”
“Quite ready to order yet,” Dane interjects, clasping his hands on the table. “But we’ll let you know when we are. Thank you so much.”
The woman’s shoulder’s droop as she spins on her heel and makes a beeline back to the kitchen.
I kick Dane’s shin under the table, just hard enough to get his attention.
“Ouch,” he whines. “What was that for?”
“What was that for ?” I repeat with enough venom in my voice to kill a horse. “How about for insinuating that the two of us are together?”
His shoulders rise and fall like he’s taking a deep, steadying breath. “She was hitting on me. Blatantly.”
I arch an eyebrow and scoff. “Like you’re not used to it. Either way, it doesn’t give you a right to use me to save yourself.”
“I would never use you.” Dane’s hardened voice sends chills over my arms as he glares at me. “But you’re right; I shouldn’t have made it look like we’re together.” He shrugs. “It just bothered me. We could’ve been a couple as far as she knew.”
I don’t bother to say that I had that very same thought. Nor do I have the chance since the woman herself strides up with two drinks in her hands. As soon as she sets them down, I get my revenge on Dane.
“Just so you know, we,” I say, pointing between me and Dane, “are not together. He’s just really good at avoidance. But I have his number if you want it, so....” I trail off as I dig my phone out of my purse.
“Oh, uh, no.” She waves her hands in front of her and backs away, eyeing both of us like we’re nuts.
“That’s not necessary. Um. I’ll just get my notepad and be right back to take your order.
” With that, she takes off at double the speed she did the first time, and I have to fight to hold back my smile.
“Proud of yourself?” Dane leans forward, bringing his clean spring rain scent with him.
“Yes, actually.” I pluck the lemon from the side of my drink like a trophy I earned and squeeze the juice into my water.
“I’m proud of you too.”
I look up just as I take a sip of my water and almost spit it right back out. “Come again?”
A slow, smug grin stretches across his face. “I said I’m proud of you. It takes a brave woman to admit that she kept the number of some random guy she met over a year ago in her phone.” His white teeth flash in victory. “Makes the guy think she was planning to contact him after all.”
Hot irritation bubbles up inside me, and my fingers tighten around my glass. I don’t want to do this with him. Promised myself I wouldn’t.
And yet, I can’t let a comment like that slide.
“Look, Dane. Or Charles, or whatever your stupid name is.” I lower my voice, hoping the sounds of the band setting up on the stage to our right drown out what I’m about to say next. “I get that you have no shortage of women fawning over you. I mean, sure, I saw the appeal once.”
Against my will, my eyes take a purposeful detour down Dane’s broad shoulders to where his soft, cotton t-shirt pulls taut across his chest. When his muscles twitch, I clear my throat.
“But that moment has passed. In fact, when I didn’t hear back from you, I tossed your number in the trash.” He flinches, sparking a small sense of triumph within me. “I was bluffing about still having it in my phone.”
Dane stares at me for a few heartbeats, almost like he’s trying to process what I’ve said. Sure, it was a total lie, but he doesn’t have to know that. There’s no way I’m admitting that what he said is only partially the truth.
The real, unfiltered raw version is that…I kept his number because I couldn’t bring myself to delete it. Even after he never responded to me. For whatever reason, I foolishly hoped we’d somehow meet again, and I’d find out that our lack of contact was all just some big misunderstanding.
Then when I saw him at Jamie and Parker’s engagement party and found out he gave me a fake name, all that hope fizzled out like the candles on Jamie and Parker’s cake. Now I know the man I texted never intended to respond.
Only players use multiple names with multiple women. And that’s exactly what Dane must be. I suspected it from the start but gave him a chance anyway.
Never. Again.
Dane ducks his hands under the table, and it looks as if he’s running them down his thighs in a repetitive motion. “After you didn’t hear back from me?”
I roll my eyes, already over this conversation. “Do we have to do this now? We’re here for Parker and Jamie. I have no desire to discuss…whatever didn’t happen between us.” I grab a menu and pretend like I’m trying to decide what to order.
Truthfully, it’s hard to focus on anything while Dane’s brow furrows and his hands keep doing that thigh rubbing thing. Without warning, Dane pushes my menu down with his finger and leans toward me.
“What do you mean you didn’t hear back from me ? I gave you my number. I was waiting for a text from you. It never came.”
A derisive laugh leaks out before I can stop it. “Seriously? That’s how you’re gonna play this right now?”
His forehead lines seem to multiply as his mouth drops open. “Can you stop saying that? I’m not playing anything.”
“You are, though. You’re playing dumb. But since you want me to spell it out for you, let me give you the rundown, K?” I lay the menu flat and fold my hands over top of it, sending him the fakest sweet smile I can muster.
“You gave me your number and some line about how you hoped I’d call. I texted you two days later, and you ghosted me. There. Now that it’s all settled, can we please just order some food and get this over with?”
My stomach sours at even the thought of food right now. I feel like such a loser, having to repeat how he so clearly ignored me. Maybe it would be better if I just stuck with a water and ordered dessert to go.
“Daria.” There it is again. My name, spoken in his voice with that unique inflection I’m positive only he could give it. “I never received a text from you.”
And back to the lying. “Why are you doing this right now?” I blink back the weird burning sensation behind my eyes. “This is a pointless conversation.”
“I’m doing this because you’ve got the wrong impression about me.”
“You left me on read , Dane.” My voice rises with my irritation, which seems to shut him up. But I don’t feel any better. I rub a hand over my mouth and look away, hating how he always seems to bring out the worst in me.
“I’m telling you, Daria,” he says again, in a lower, deeper, more velvety voice this time. “I never got your text.”
And with that stunning revelation, I excuse myself from the table and book it to the restroom as fast as my feet will take me.