Chapter Twelve
Weston
You’d think I would’ve learned after my last speed dating disaster. But apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment. Or maybe Parker’s right about me.
Maybe I really am desperate.
My mind spins as I step into yet another singles mixer, my eyes flickering around the faces filling the bar.
It’s not a speed dating or super organized event.
It’s just a singles’ night at the Cricket.
I usually avoid coming to things like this by myself, because it means I could end up sitting all alone the entire night…
But I needed to get out tonight.
Parker is busy doing something with Amy; I don’t know the details. All I know is that the two of them are driving me crazy. Everyone who comes within ten feet of them knows they’re into each other. However, they’re completely blind to it.
It’s just plain annoying.
“Good evening.” A woman’s voice greets me. She’s wearing the bar’s logo on her shirt. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Um.” I hesitate as I scan the tables around the room. There’s not a single familiar face, and while that doesn’t bother me, it doesn’t exactly make me feel better about the evening, either. “I guess I’ll just have a water.”
“A water?” She appears surprised. “Are you sure?”
I nod my head, and then make my way to the nearest empty table, which requires me to weave around multiple laughing circles of people. They all look like they’re having the time of their lives, and not a single one of them turns a head in my direction.
This is why I don’t like coming to these mixers by myself.
I slide onto a bar stool that faces the crowd and wait for the lady to bring me my water.
Part of me considers bailing as soon as I settle in, but alas, I make myself sit here.
After all, what else do I have to do for the evening?
Parker is busy, and our other friends are coupled up, uninterested in coming out to bars like this one.
My mind flashes to Brittany, and I frown at the thought. It’s been a couple of weeks since she moved into her new apartment, and Parker hasn’t mentioned her at all—other than that she’s getting settled in and is happy with the place.
I wonder if she replaced the picture.
I kind of chuckle to myself, then stop, contemplating whether she thought my housewarming gift was too much.
Is there a chance it offended her? I inwardly cringe at the thought.
I tried to make the card as tasteful as I could, but at the same time, I also sneakily placed it on her counter so Parker wouldn’t see it.
Would he be mad?
Probably.
“Hey.” A voice cuts into my thoughts, and I snap my eyes from the table I’m staring at. My gaze meets a pair of hazel eyes, and I can’t deny the gold in them is attractive. Are they icy blue eyes? No. But I don’t judge. “Drinking water?”
I raise my brows, not having realized my water was set in front of my face. “Oh, yeah. I just wasn’t sure how long I was going to stay.”
The woman tucks some of her blonde hair behind her ear, and I notice she’s wearing a nice black dress. “I don’t blame you. I got a water, too. I probably should’ve gone with wine, but I wasn’t sure how long I was going to stay either.”
I laugh, gesturing to the tall chair beside me. “Feel free to take a seat with me. We can totally people-watch together.”
“Ah, how did you know my favorite hobby?” She giggles and then climbs awkwardly into the chair adjacent to mine.
She sets her glass of water down on the counter.
“This is my first mixer. I was terrified to come.” She spins her glass around in her hands, her bright pink nails a contrast to her choice of dress color.
“I’m Weston,” I finally say, pulling my gaze from her fingers and back to her eyes. “What’s your name? If you said it, I must’ve missed it.”
“I don’t think I said it,” she says shyly, her eyes dropping to her drink. “I’m Louisa.” Her blonde hair falls past her shoulders, and while it’s not quite as light as Brittany’s, it’s still pretty.
Wait … why am I comparing Louisa to Brittany?
I stop my thought right in its tracks, confusion filling my chest. I mean, yeah, I think Brittany is gorgeous, and I could easily obsess over her—but she’s off-limits. And besides, she’s moved on with her life and is back to having nothing to do with us.
“What do you do for work?” Louisa asks, her bright red lips turning slightly upward.
“I work as a senior software engineer.” I wait for her to have some sort of response, but I get nothing. Usually, women are a little more impressed—at least by the word senior. I swallow the knot in my throat that’s starting to form. “What do you do for work?”
“I’m a pediatric surgeon at the regional hospital.”
Oh dang. No wonder I’m not impressive to her.
“That’s really awesome,” I say, nearly choking on air as I pick up my water to take a sip. “I bet that’s really rewarding work.”
“Oh yeah, it is,” she says, still spinning her glass in her hands. “It’s also pretty demanding. I moved here almost a year ago, and this is my first night out. I don’t think I’m gonna have a lot of time to date.”
“Because you’re busy saving lives,” I point out. “That basically makes you superhuman.”
She laughs, her eyes lighting up as they meet mine. “Oh yeah, definitely. I’ll take that. You build software though, that’s pretty cool, too.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s remotely in the same league, but I’ll take it.
Thank you.” The playback of her own words has her grinning, and I feel a burst of pride in my chest. There’s something about making someone feel good that makes me feel good—even if I’m not sure there’s any chemistry between us.
You have to give her a chance, I inwardly chide myself. I’ve been too caught up in thoughts of Brittany when I should be focused on literally anyone else.
Brittany’s the one woman I can’t have, so I need to get her out of my brain.
And replace her with Louisa?
Something about that feels all wrong, but I let it go and do my best to focus on the conversation.
“So, are you from New York City?” she asks, leaning her elbow against the table. I can’t tell if she’s bored or if she’s just not a high-energy person. I mean, surgeons probably shouldn’t be bouncing off the wall with energy…
“I’m actually from California,” I tell her, without specifying where in California. It doesn’t matter usually. Everyone assumes whatever they’re going to about the Golden State anyway.
“I’m from Nevada.” She gives me a smile, resting her cheek against her hand. “I guess we’re kind of neighbors. What brought you to New York?”
“School,” I tell her, and then go into the story of how I came here, how I met Parker, and how I got my start at the company with him. She listens intently the entire time, and while I enjoy the way she’s paying attention…
I just don’t feel anything about the conversation.
There’s no butterflies.
I return the question, and she breaks into an elaborate story about college and medical school, her residency in Pennsylvania, and then finally landing her dream job there in the city. It’s impressive, and I nod along to be respectful, but I can’t deny the fact that I start to feel a little bored.
And that makes me feel awful.
“I’m surprised you haven’t found someone yet,” Louisa comments, picking up her near-empty water glass to drink the final contents. “You seem like a really awesome person.”
“Thank you, I have to say the same for you.” As I say the words though, they don’t feel like they’re as authentic as they should be.
What is wrong with me? Louisa is an awesome woman. She’s a total catch.
“I think I should probably go wander around and chat with everyone,” she says suddenly, and I can’t help but wonder if she can read the expression on my face. The thought is embarrassing, and I quickly slide off the stool.
“For sure, I probably should do the same.” I reach for my mostly-full water, sliding it toward me so I can carry it. However, as soon as I connect with the glass, the condensation on the outside causes it to slip.
And I fumble it. Bad.
Water sprays everywhere, and Louisa startles as the majority of it pours down the front of her black dress. My jaw drops, and some sort of incoherent apology falls from my lips. I reach for the napkin on the table and try to hold it out for her.
“It’s fine,” she says, clearing her throat and shaking her head at me. “I, um, I’ll just go find my friend. I’ve got it, thanks.” With that, she spins on her heels and walks away from me, leaving me standing there like an idiot.
I’m starting to think this is just how things go for me.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I make my way to the exit, knowing good and well the evening is over for me. There’s nothing worse than ruining someone’s night. With a sigh, I slip through the crowd of people to the door, my chest feeling heavy.
Why can’t I find someone?
I reach for my cell phone as I step out into the chilly February air. I glance around the street, which is full of happy people. Well, mostly happy people. I’m not sure if anyone is really outwardly happy in New York City. I dial Parker’s number, knowing that he’s probably with Amy, but still.
“You must not have had a successful night,” Parker answers, an amused tone in his voice. “There’s no way you stayed for only thirty minutes and had any sort of success.”
“It was a complete disaster. The only good thing about tonight is that I only have to walk a block back to my apartment.”
“Maybe next time will be better,” Parker hums, clearly preoccupied. “You can tell me all about it at work tomorrow. I’ll see you then. I’m exhausted.”
“Uh…” Before I can say anything else, he hangs up the phone. I shake my head at the audacity, but honestly, it’s not surprising. I know Parker is dealing with his own feelings for Amy, and he’s just not the kind of guy who will drop his guard all that easily.
I slip through the front door of my apartment building and head for my mailbox. There’s rarely anything other than junk, but it’s the first of the month…
So I’m sure there’ll be a bill or two.
Shoving my key in my box, I turn it and then breathe out when there’s only one envelope in there. I retrieve it, furrowing my brow as I see the pink gel pen writing on the outside. Surprised, I rip it open, not even bothering to look at who it’s from. I’m met with a pink card…
With a groundhog on it.
Weston,
Thank you for the housewarming gift. You’ll be glad to know I replaced the creepy bear. But I didn’t buy new artwork, I painted it.
It turns out your gift card did more than redecorate my wall. It kind of gave me something back.
So … thank you for that. Truly.
Also, I was in a hurry and this was the first card I could find, so…
Happy Groundhog’s Day! I hope he comes out to stay. I’m over the cold.
Best,
Brittany
P.S. Is this weird? I don’t have your phone number, but was able to find your address.
A wide grin spreads across my face as I shut the card and place it carefully back into the envelope. As it turns out…
This is an amazing night.