4. The Fashion Intervention
4
THE FASHION INTERVENTION
Gage
That was so unlike me.
Not the way I asked her—I wasn’t kidding when I told her I go after what I want. I just haven’t wanted to go on a date for a very long time.
Life is messy enough. I didn’t need to make it messier by asking out a customer. Or, really, by tracking down that customer, going to her business, and buying up half the store to ask for a date for the next damn night.
There’s just something about her though.
So, here I am, freshly showered and dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I just let my brother into my little townhome in Russian Hill when he arrived a few minutes ago. But I need a better shirt to take out Elodie. Problem is, as I check out my uninspired closet now on a Friday evening, I’m not sure I have a style at all. As I’m staring at the sea of navy, black, and gray Henleys—all bartender gear—I mutter, “What the hell do I even wear?”
As if I’ve summoned a genie or two, Eliza and Zane stride into my bedroom from the living room.
“We heard your cry,” Zane announces, towering over my little girl.
“Don’t worry, Dad. We can help,” my eleven-going-on-thirty-year-old declares as my little brother smooths a hand down his trim, purple button-down with tiny cacti illustrations on it. The dude knows how to dress snappy. “You should always come to me for fashion advice,” he offers.
Zane’s the first baseman for the San Francisco Dragons, which means he’s busy nearly every day and night during the summer. But with the season over, he and his partner are taking off soon for a long European vacation, so he’d already offered to host Eliza at his place tonight before I even asked Elodie on a date.
“Then help me out,” I say to him, eager for some fashion guidance.
Eliza sets a bossy hand on Zane’s forearm. “My dad needs something to impress Elodie, okay? This is his first date in a year. Find something that says he’s not wearing the same boring clothes he wears every night to work.”
This kid knows me too well.
Zane smiles as they reach the closet. “I’ll find something perfect for the man who bought five million chocolates from her already.” He shoots me a curious stare. “What was that about? Are you already in love?”
I scoff. Loudly. “No. This is just a date.”
“A date you must have really wanted,” Zane adds as he flicks through my shirts with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s looking for.
Yeah, well. There’s no point denying that. And I’ll never live down the five million chocolates, but hell—I wanted Elodie to know I wasn’t just some dude amused by a sex toy. I wanted her to know I meant it when I asked her out. I wanted to impress her.
For one date.
“But it can’t go anywhere. I’m too busy with expansion plans. I heard back from the landlord this afternoon. Celeste said she wants to see my marketing plans before she finalizes the deal for the place in the Marina,” I concede, but that also means I need to put something fantastic together to impress the woman, who’s picky when it comes to who she’ll do business with. These days, money isn’t always the answer. Marketing often is the trump card.
“Not worried. You know how to bring in the customers,” Zane says, then stops his clothing hunt to pat my cheek. “With that Archer charm.”
I roll my eyes. “Charm doesn’t pay the bills.”
“I think you’re charming,” Eliza pipes in. Instinctively, I run a hand over her hair, styled in two soft brown braids.
“And you’ll put that charm to good use,” Zane says. “Just look at what you’ve done with Sticks and Stones in the last few years. You’ve made it a go-to destination. Ping-Pong, pool, and shuffleboard—you can’t get bored there. Not to mention you’ve got good food and good service.”
That’s worked well for now. But you just never know. Will that be enough for Celeste to grant me the second spot? “I could add more bar games,” I say, lasering in on the hoops I need to jump through. “We don’t have room now to expand in Sticks and Stones. But there’s an outdoor space in the Marina. I could convert it for bocce ball.” I can already see it—string lights illuminating a court, picnic tables next to them.
Zane fixes me with a stern stare. “Dude. Chill. You’ve got a date tonight.”
“I should write this down though. To share with Celeste next week when we have our meeting,” I add, grabbing my phone from my pocket to dictate a note. But the instant it’s in my hand, it’s already gone.
Zane is barking into it. “Dear Reddit Forum for Hapless Men. I went on a date tonight, but she left after twenty minutes because all I talked about were bar plans. Any advice for me?” Then he shifts to a shrill masculine voice, adding, “Dude, here’s my advice. Don’t suck.”
Eliza snickers, even though I doubt she gets how horrifyingly accurate Zane probably is when it comes to Reddit posts. I huff as I wiggle my fingers at the phone. “Point taken. But give a guy a break. I don’t have much time to date,” I add, taking the device back.
Meeting Zane’s eyes, Eliza turns her hand into a puppet, making the mouth gab.
“You’ve heard him sing this I don’t have time song before too, haven’t you?” Zane asks with such affection for her and such mockery for me.
“All the time,” she says as she points at a shirt hanging in the closet. “Ooh, how about that one?”
Zane snags the midnight-blue shirt with a floral pattern on it. Wine-red artsy flowers crawl down the front next to curling vines. It doesn’t look familiar.
“Yes. This one is perfect. Good job, Eliza,” Zane says.
I stare at it like it’s an alien artifact from a time capsule. “Where did that come from?”
Eliza smiles at me sympathetically. “I told you you’re the forgetful one. You forgot we stopped at the clothing store after a game one day when you said you needed new shirts for work.”
I scratch my jaw. “That is not ringing a bell at all,” I say, and I smell a fashion intervention. I point from my brother to my daughter. “Did you two go shopping for me for my date?”
“I just got here, big bro. We didn’t have time to shop,” Zane says, then shoves the shirt at me. “Now go put this on. Let’s see how you look.”
His tone brooks no argument.
I comply, heading to the bathroom and putting on the shirt. I check out my reflection. It’s a little snug, and definitely more vibrant than the clothes I usually wear. But I know nothing about fashion. I return to the bedroom, holding out my arms for an appraisal from the lifesavers. “This looks so?—”
I’m about to say not me , when Eliza offers, “Handsome.”
“And perfect for a man trying to impress his date,” Zane puts in.
“Plus, it shows off your guns, Dad. Like you’ve been to the gun show,” Eliza adds, flexing her little biceps too.
“How do you know that saying?”
“Duh. I hang out with athletes and former athletes,” she says, gesturing to Zane, then me. “And you had guns, too, on your rookie card.”
That was ten years ago—my one season in the majors. A lifetime ago, practically. The reminder of it doesn’t sting as much as it used to, but it’ll probably always make me feel wistful. I counter that uncomfortable feeling by flexing my right arm. “Still do,” I say confidently.
Eliza spins around in a blur of girlish energy. “Let me go check.” She runs off to her room, presumably.
When she’s out of earshot, Zane pats me on the shoulder. “Listen, man. Just have a good time tonight. Everything will work out with the bar,” he says with the optimism of a man who’s been blessed with talent and luck. I’d never begrudge him for his good fortune, since that’s all I’ve ever wanted for my little brother—to watch him soar. But facts are facts—Zane’s led an injury-free life for nearly a decade in pro ball and he met his soul mate when he was just twenty-five. Luck shines bright on his side. “Tonight though? You just gotta be present,” he adds.
I blow out a long breath, absorbing his last piece of advice. It’s been a while. I never have the time to go out. I need to try to stay in the moment. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Always am.” He gestures to my shirt, giving me a thumbs-up. “This looks good. It says you’re the kind of man who asks her out by buying up her shop, yet you’re cool enough to know not to propose to her tonight.”
No clue if that’s good or bad. “And that’s the right look?” I’m still skeptical. Been burned before on the rules of dating.
“It is,” Zane confirms. “Eliza and I looked her up. She’s very fashionable and she dresses well. This is what you need to wear. One hundred percent.”
“Done.” I don’t have time to question him more, especially if I’m going to make it to the date on time. We exit my bedroom, and I grab my wallet from the living room table right as Eliza rushes out of her room, waggling her phone. “Sent you a pic of your rookie card. You can show it to her.”
Zane’s eyes pop, and with Eliza behind him, he makes a slashing gesture across his throat, then mouths don’t .
I laugh, then clap his shoulder. “I do know that.” I also know that Elodie’s easy to talk to and easy to flirt with, and that’s all I need and want for one night.
I give Zane instructions on food and bedtime as I head to the door. He turns his big right paw into a hand puppet now. “You say this like my niece hasn’t slept over before,” he remarks.
Eliza grabs her bright yellow sleepover bag from the living room floor. “Dad, I have my own room there.”
And it’s nicer and bigger than the one she has here. “I’m glad you like it,” I say, since I can’t let myself get caught up in those kinds of comparisons. My brother’s a millionaire athlete and I’m not, and that’s just the way it goes.
Before we leave, I hand Zane one of the Melt In Your Mouth boxes . “For Maddox, since I know you don’t eat sugar.”
He grabs it like an alligator snatching dinner. “I’ll make an exception.”
Eliza bats her lashes. “I eat sugar!”
I laugh, then shake my head. “You already had a bar.”
“But I have room for more,” she says hopefully.
“Don’t worry. We can share,” Zane stage whispers to her.
“Yes!”
When we all reach the stoop outside the building, Eliza drops her bag and gives me a hug. I scoop her up and hold her close, sighing contentedly. This kid is my whole entire heart and has been since she was born. “You have fun tonight, but don’t forget tomorrow afternoon we’re doing the beach cleanup by Crissy Field.”
“I know, and I have my work gloves with me so I can pick up all the plastic,” Eliza says, sets a hand on my back, and firmly guides me toward the waiting Lyft I ordered.
“You have fun too,” she calls out as I reach the sedan. “Maybe after the new bar opens, she can be your girlfriend!”
I groan. Zane laughs. I turn back to the troublemakers. “It’s one date. I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”
“Everyone has time for love,” my brother says. “You just have to make the time.”
But tonight is not about love. Love isn’t in the cards for me. It hasn’t been for a good long time. Love has a way of just not working out. But business? Family? Those are the things I can count on.
I pluck at the shirt. “Thanks for the shirt, Zane.”
“Anytime.”
As I slide into the car, my phone pings with a text from Grams.
Grams: Favor!
Gage: Sure. Hit me up.
Grams: I need you to ask your date for a gift recommendation for a friend of mine.
Figuring it’s for chocolate, I reply with a sure .
Grams: Can you ask your date for her absolute favorite toy?
I groan. She’s savage with her burns.
Gage: Well played, Grams. But I will get you next time.
Grams: Doubtful.
Then I set the phone down, but I linger on Eliza’s parting comment. Have I left a hole in her life by avoiding romance? For ten years, it’s been just Eliza and me. Since she was one and her mom died far too young. And a few times over that decade, I’ve tried again. But I flash back to the last time I was serious with a woman—a little over a year ago—and how that turned out for both my daughter and me.
A dark cloud passes over me briefly. I refuse to think of my ex tonight. I refuse to think of the distant past too.
I also vow to set aside my obsession about the future. I’m going to do something I rarely do. I’ll enjoy tonight for what it is—a moment in time. A brief respite from work and reality.
And that’s all.