CHAPTER 8 Amelia
Amelia
“It was so horrible. He made Tom the accountant seem like a prince!”
Bella chuckles from her position on the couch next to me, her gaze glued to my face, all her attention set on hearing my tale of woe.
“He can’t have been as bad as the Mumma’s boy?!”
I flashback to the night before, my big date with Julian the biomedical scientist and inwardly shudder. The evening with him had started off badly and only gotten worse.
“He took me to a lecture on science stuff,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her to stop her from laughing.
“Science-stuff? Is that the technical term?”
I poke her with my foot which is resting at her waist. The two of us are stretched out head to toe on my couch, settling in for a sleepover. Luckily for me, Bella’s husband Daniel is working the night shift in his job as a firefighter tonight, so I get to keep her all to myself.
“I don’t know what the technical terms are. It was all gibberish to me!”
“Back up and tell me everything that happened.”
Keeping my eyes closed, so I can relive every painful moment, I detail the events of my date with ‘letter B’ Julian. It had gotten off to a rocky start when he’d turned up twenty minutes late—just as I’d been planning on leaving, sure that I’d been stood up. He’d rushed into the coffee shop near where he works (not sure how he was late when we’d arranged to meet somewhere convenient only to him) and hadn’t even apologised. Then he’d given me a long look, taking in my ripped jeans paired with my favourite silver sparkly top to match my favourite silver sparkly heels and had deemed my outfit ‘inappropriate’ for the evening ahead.
“He did not say that!” Bella squeals, her cheeks flushing with indignation.
“He did.”
And it wasn’t the worst thing he’d said to me that night. After that charming introduction, he’d asked if I could get my coffee to go because we were going to be late.
“For what?” Bella interjects.
“For the science stuff.”
“Why didn’t you just leave, right after he’d insulted your sexy date outfit?”
I shrug. At the time, I’d been desperate for date number two to go better than date number one and I’d lost all perspective. Plus, he was cute. In a nerdy, could-look-hot-in-a-lab-coat kind of way.
“So, you go to the lecture…?”
“Yes, getting nothing to eat beforehand,” I emphasise. The two of us do not do well with skipping meals so I knew she’d appreciate this point. We are self-confessed ‘hangry monsters’.
“Uh oh.”
Uh oh, indeed.The lecture theatre had been only half full when we’d arrived, with many suitable seats up the back, where the cool kids hang. But was that where Julian seated us? Noooo. We were right up the front, in prime position.
“He did not!” Bella is suitably mortified, knowing exactly what happens to people who dare to sit up the front.
“He did.”
And it only got worse from there. The lecture itself was all kinds of boring, incorporating the use of many words ending in -ases and -sis, but that wasn’t even the worst part. That came when my date stood up at the end of the presentation and criticised everything that had just been presented.
“And it wasn’t in a ‘here’s some feedback, maybe you can think of doing this next time’ kind of way. It was in a rude, belligerent and arrogant kind of way. He did it to make himself feel big and the presenter feel very small.”
“I hate those kinds of people.” Bella’s blue eyes are spitting fire. “What a jerk.”
“I know, right? And he’d had the audacity, after all of that”—I swirl my hand in the air to encompass the entire mess of the date—“to think that he was entitled to a good-night kiss.”
“Shut. Up.”
A burst of giggles springs out of me at her dramatics. I love that she’s on this emotional rollercoaster right along with me.
“I will not shut up,” I grin. “But it’s fine. I speared him with my most icy look. You know the one?”
She shudders in response. She knows it well.
“And then said: lose my number. And I flounced away.”
Bella claps at this and I rise onto my elbows to give a half-bow. My performance in ending this date was worthy of the applause.
“Why do men suck?” she asks, flopping back down onto the couch to stare up at the ceiling.
“Not all men suck. Your husband, for example. He’s pretty amazing.”
She lets out a satisfied sound. “It’s true, but remember how much of a jerk he was when I met him? They never make it easy.”
When Bella had moved from her hometown of Florence to join her brother here in Melbourne, she’d been stuck living with Lucas’s very grumpy (and very sexy) roommate. And he had been a bit of a jerk to Bella at the start, but we all know now that he’d just been keeping her at a distance to mask the very real, powerful feelings he’d already been developing for my gorgeous best friend.
“I think we can safely say that you found a good man. One of the few left out there in the world, apparently.”
Bella’s nose scrunches and she squeezes my hand in solidarity. “You know what will make you feel better?”
I scramble to think of something other than her company that will lift my spirits. “What?”
“Lilly’s cupcakes!”
She catapults herself off the couch and skips to the kitchen. “Lilly dropped some round to my place earlier, obviously to assuage the guilt she’s still feeling about Tom…and now Julian.”
“Julian wasn’t her fault,” I call from where I remain on the couch, happy to have cupcakes delivered to my lap. “That was all Amy and Lucas.”
“What were they thinking?” Bella mutters under her breath and quietly, I agree. Maybe Julian is one of those men, the good-on-paper men. Ticks all the boxes, but in reality, is a complete dud.
PING.
I bolt up from my lounging position at the text message notification, set to ring at maximum volume. Refusing to examine why I’m so keen to not miss a message, I open my app.
JAKE: You haven’t finished telling me about your date.
I grin. After leaving me hanging the night of my ‘A’ date, Jake had finally messaged back, eager to hear all about the dating mishaps with the letter ‘B’.
AMELIA: I told you it was bad.
JAKE: But how bad is bad?
AMELIA: There was science involved.
JAKE: …
AMELIA: He took me to a lecture…
JAKE: About?
AMELIA: I’m remembering photosynthesis and maybe homeostasis…
JAKE: From my memory of my year eight biology class, those two don’t really fit together.
This makes me smile. The nerd in Jake goes beyond his law degree.
AMELIA: Well, whatever it was, I didn’t want it anywhere near my date night.
JAKE: Fair.
“Who’s putting that smile on your face?”
I drop my phone like a hot potato and put my hands on my flaming cheeks. Busted.
“No one,” I lie, going for casual and ending up with squeaky.
“Ohhh, you are messaging with a ‘someone’ for sure. Is it contestant number three? ‘Letter C’ guy?”
After the debacle of date night with science guy, you’d think we’d all have given up on this dating mission, but instead, each failure seemed only to make my friends even more determined to find me someone…decent.
“No, but I am meeting him tomorrow.”
‘Letter C’ guy is actually someone Daniel knows; a carpenter, and I’m meeting him tomorrow afternoon. A daytime date, hopefully to take the pressure off.
“So, spill. Who’s got your face looking like that?” She motions to my face and I wonder what it is she’s reading there. I’m messaging with Jake; it’s not like he’s a contender to be my Mr. Right. Right?
“I’ve been messaging with Jake…” I admit, waving my hands in front of me to cool down my cheeks. “That’s all.”
Her mouth drops open, a bit of cupcake falling out. “Jake? Robby’s brother, who is like the hottest man alive?”
“Apart from your hunky firefighter husband?” I ask dryly.
“Of course, of course,” she says, making a ‘pfft’ gesture with her hands. “But Jake, he’s like a hot, nerdy guy. Those glasses…” She trails off with a faraway look and I join her in reminiscing the pleasure those glasses give to the wider female population.
“Either way,” I say, snapping us both out of our collective daydreaming, “he’s just been keeping in touch since we bumped into him at Love, Lilly’s. It seems like he’s pretty invested in seeing how our dating plan works out.”
She smirks at this. “Invested to see it fail.”
I gape at her. “What does that mean?”
“Come on, Millie. You can’t have missed how that man looked at you. I was only in the presence of the two of you for a short time and even I could see it. He watches you like you’ve been put on this earth specifically for him.”
Her words cause all sorts of butterflies, moths, insects and the like to take flight in my belly. If only it were true.
“You’re seeing things,” I argue with her. “You think I’m amazing, so you think everyone else sees me that way.”
“That’s true.” She hands me a cupcake with a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I’m making it up. I think hunky Superman has a thing for you.”
“He’s Robby’s brother,” I burst out. “His brother.” I repeat for good measure.
Bella looks unperturbed by this. “So? Robby was the worst. And he dumped you. And he has a girlfriend. In my mind, you’re free to do whatever you want. Including Jake. Especially Jake.”
Her words echo Andrea’s so closely I wonder if they’re colluding against me. Can’t they see it would be wrong to go from one brother to the next?
“Picking Jake after being with Robby isn’t wrong,” she tells me, reading my mind apparently. “It would just be a way of righting a wrong. Maybe you were with the wrong brother from the start?”
I bite into my vanilla cupcake with buttercream frosting with gusto, hoping to end this conversation. Because as much as I wonder, in my quiet times, whether it should have been Jake all along, I can’t help the guilt I feel about Robby. Even though he’d treated me poorly for the entire relationship and I’m pretty sure he cheated on me (several times) he doesn’t deserve to have me jump to his big brother. Does he?
“It doesn’t matter.” I shove the rest of my cupcake into my mouth and chew vigorously. “I’m going out with Hank the carpenter. And I’ve got a good feeling that maybe third time’s the charm.”
Bella wipes the icing from her lips while giving me a speculative look. “OK, I’m letting you get away with avoiding the topic. This time.” She shoots me a glare. “Now tell me, where are you and the good carpenter going tomorrow? Somewhere more exciting than the lecture hall at Melbourne Uni, I hope.”
I scroll through my messages, re-reading the one Hank had sent earlier today.
“We’re meeting at an escape room. That sounds like fun, yes?”
She gives what can only be read as a doubtful look, and I secretly agree.
An escape room doesn’t sound like fun at all
*****
Always trust your instincts.
This thought is bouncing through my brain ten minutes after the door to the escape room locked behind me and Hank. Forcing us to work together to find our way out.
So far, this date has been no better than the first two. Hank the carpenter had turned up on time (one point for him) but had also turned up drunk (minus one hundred points for him). At first, it was hard to tell what exactly was off with him, but then the door closed and we were given our mission—to “help save the Prime Minister who’d been kidnapped”—and he started freaking out. Like this is all real.
“We have to save him,” Hank yells in my face, the pupils in his blue eyes dilated almost completely, making them a scary shade of black. “The fate of the country rests with us.”
I hold back my laughter because really, it’s kind of funny that he thinks he’s capable of saving anyone right now. I give him a solemn nod. There’s zero point trying to convince him this is all make-believe, given how ‘out of it’ he is.
“You’re right,” I say, rubbing his arm to calm him down. “So, we need to be focussed.”
Hank’s very unfocussed eyes lock with mine and I see pure panic in there. This is going to be a long afternoon.
“I guess we should look at the ransom note the kidnappers left behind?” I say to get the ball rolling; the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get away from whatever Hank has going on.
“We’re running out of time!”
My date looks like he’s about to lose it and I scramble to figure a way out of this mess. As far as I can tell, we have two hours to get out of here—to ‘save the Prime Minister’—and no one to step in to help us. We’re on our own.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” I guide Hank to the plush armchair in the corner of our room, gently pushing him into it. “Conserve your energy while I try to decipher the first clue.”
He looks at me, his bloodshot eyes blinking frantically, and then before I can blink back, he’s asleep.
Why is this happening to me?
“Hank?” I shake him. Hard. “Wake up!”
Nothing. My would-be partner in this escape plan is now passed out cold and it’s up to me and me alone to get us out of here (and to save the Prime Minister, of course).
“You can do this,” I give myself a little pep talk, reading the first clue. Which is a lot of numbers and a few symbols on a page. It’s something I obviously need to de-code, but I have no idea where to start.
“Hank!” I try one more time to wake him, a snore the only response I get. “Grrr.”
With no other ideas and also because I’m not hating having an excuse to call him, I dial the number of the smartest person I know (and it’s not Julian the scientist!).
“Amelia?” Jake’s shocked voice over the phone brings me a level of comfort I tuck away to examine at a later date.
“Jake,” I reply, my voice breathless with the weight of emotion I’m feeling at just hearing his voice. “I need your help.”
“Of course.” His reply is immediate and sure. As reliable as he is. “What do you need?”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I contemplate what to tell him. “I’m on my date with Hank the carpenter.” I stop when I hear a growl from his end. At least I think it’s a growl. “Do you have a dog on your lap?”
“What?” he asks, confused. “No.”
“Oh.”
“So, you’re calling me from your date. Do you need me to come get you? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” I hasten to reassure him. The concern in his voice is like a weighted blanket for my growing anxiety. “It’s just that I’m in this escape room with Hank.”
“Pfft, Hank,” he mutters and I smile.
“And, well, you see…”
“Spit it out, Amelia.” He’s grumpy now.
“He fell asleep.”
Silence.
“Jake?”
“He fell asleep?”
“Um, yes?”
“Where on Earth are you finding these guys?” he groans. “How is he asleep?”
I’m as baffled as he is. “He may be drunk? And now I need help to get out of this room, or else I’ll be stuck in here with sleeping beauty for the next two hours before anyone comes to rescue us.”
“That is quite the situation,” his dry voice makes me giggle. “What can I do to help?”
I turn the phone and press the button for video call, instantly relieved when I see his face fill my screen. His handsome face, with his glasses on.
“I need you to escape with me.”
His green eyes pierce through my iPhone screen and I wish I could read his mind. He must think these dating shenanigans are ridiculous. Because…they are.
“O-K...” He draws out the two letters, making them into an entire sentence. “But only on the condition that you stop going out with these losers.”
I turn the phone to where Hank is snoring in his green chair, a line of drool running out of his mouth.
“Deal.”
“Then let’s begin. What’s our mission?”
I’m laughing while I outline our current ‘situation’. The kidnapping of the Prime Minister and the first clue being in some sort of hieroglyphics.
“Show me,” he demands after I’ve described the ransom note to him.
I angle the camera on my phone so he can best read the clue and am astonished when he solves it in under three minutes. The man is a genius.
“The next clue is under the bed,” he declares while I stare at him in amazement.
“How do you know that?” I ask, kneeling down to look under the mattress.
“It was a simple code. Every number is a letter and the symbols are punctuation.”
I look at the note again, mentally rearranging the numbers for letters. Incredible.
“I’d have been stuck on that one all afternoon,” I mumble, putting the phone on the bed and pulling myself further under the mattress. “And the Prime Minister would never have been saved.”
“Have you got the next clue?” Jake asks this as I emerge triumphant…and slightly dishevelled.
“Bingo!”
I show him the next clue and wait for him to solve it. And sure enough, he does, guiding me from one room to the next, finding a new clue in each location.
“Have you been here before?” I ask, suspicious after he’d successfully directed me to the last clue. The one that should get me out of here. Freedom at last.
“Nope,” he answers. “But I love a good detective show. A good murder mystery. It turns out I’ve been training for this day for years now.”
The playful tone in his voice has my stomach clenching. His playfulness has me melting.
“So, are you ready for this?” I keep my tone dead serious. “Are you ready to complete the mission and save our fearless leader?”
Jake’s face lights with laughter and I only just refrain from taking a screenshot. To have for later. And forever.
“Let’s do it.”
Together we unjumbled the last clue and he watches as I enter the final code into the lock-pad next to the door. We both hold our breath as I press in the last two numbers, yelling with equal levels of excitement when the door turns green and opens.
“Congratulations,” an automated robotic voice comes over a loudspeaker. I jump at the sound of it. “You’ve rescued the Prime Minister and your mission is now complete.”
I keep a firm hold of the open door with one hand, scared it will accidentally shut and I’ll have to start all over again. “Thank you, Jake. I literally could not have done this without you.”
He grins back at me, flashing his dimple, making my knees tremble. “It was my pleasure. And look, it turns out we’re a great team.”
My smile slips from my face at these words. Not because they’re not true. But because they are.
“What are you going to do about Sleepy McSleeperson over there?” Jake’s voice is serious now, the mirth from a moment ago all but disappeared.
I glance to the room where Hank is still asleep and turn away.
“He’s not my problem.”
“Good for you.” Jake’s soft response gives me the courage to walk out of the room, letting the door close behind me. When Hank wakes up and finds himself alone, I hope he doesn’t freak out too much.
OK, maybe he can freak out, just a little.
“Where to now?”
I turn the phone from video back to just audio, reluctantly giving up the pleasure of looking at Jake’s face. “I’m heading home,” I answer his question. “To sleep away the horror of yet another date gone wrong.”
He’s silent on the other end and once again I wish I knew what he was thinking.
“It wasn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon…” he trails off, leaving an opening for me.
“No, spending the afternoon saving the leader of our nation definitely wasn’t a terrible use of my time.”
He laughs, a deep, rich sound I want to bathe in.
“Well, feel free to call should you ever find yourself on another such mission. Or if you just want to chat.”
Again, he leaves an opening for me. One I should shut down, given his status as my ex-boyfriend’s older brother.
“I like the sound of that,” I tell him before hanging up. Because I like the sound of it altogether too much.
And it’s becoming a problem.
A very big problem indeed.