Chapter 17. Third Time Isn’t Always the Charm
Third Time Isn’t Always the Charm
“Here’s the plan,” Rob said. “Elijah’s been working overtime the past two weeks because his team is finishing the final edits for their movie.
He always finishes at the same time: ten P.M. on weekdays and four P.M. on the weekends.
So when he walks out of that building in five minutes”—Rob pointed to the high-rise across the street—“you’re going to casually bump into him and initiate conversation. ”
It was the week after the golfing date with Neil, and Rob had the brilliant idea to sneakily ambush the film editor.
That was why I was here, on a Saturday afternoon, staking out the building where Elijah worked from the Starbucks across the road.
My latte was long finished, because we’d been sitting at a table by the window, watching the building entrance for the past forty-five minutes, like vultures hunting for their next prey.
“How do you know all this?”
“I did my research.”
“Must I remind you that your research hasn’t been too reliable so far?” I turned to face him. “First Ben, then Neil. I mean, how did you miss that one very important fact about him in your research?”
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Rob looked sheepish. “He’s always dated women ever since I’ve known him.”
“I should have clocked it from the way he kept asking questions about you.” I tilted my head.
“You know what you need? Someone to fact-check your dossier. A second pair of eyes to confirm the information is accurate. When this is all over, you should hire me to be your fact-checker. We could probably build an actual business doing this.”
“I promise I’m usually better than this. None of this ever happened when I was helping my siblings and my cousins.”
“Hold up.” I raised my eyebrows at him, deadpan. “Are you implying that I’m the problem here?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just that…” He trailed off with a sigh. “We just haven’t been having the best luck, but you’re not the problem. If anything, those guys should be thanking their lucky stars because you’re interested in them.”
My cheeks felt warm. I shouldn’t have liked it when he said things like that, but I did.
Too damn much.
“And haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm. Point is, you’re going to accidentally run into Elijah, and that’s when you strike.”
“What if he decides to work through the night? Or took today off?”
“He won’t have taken today off because his aim is to win an Oscar before he turns forty. I’m willing to bet my firstborn child—”
I snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t have one.”
“—that Elijah has spent his entire Saturday working in that building, because there’s nothing that he wants more than getting his hands on one of those little golden statues. Remember, he loves his movies, so use that to break the ice.”
“Yes, I know, this isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I’ll be here, ready to assist at the first sign of distress from you. You won’t have anything to worry about, though. Elijah can be a bit intense when it comes to his work, but he’s a total sweetheart. Third time’s the charm,” he repeated. “Okay, here he comes.”
I glanced up to see Elijah walking out of the front door, his messenger bag slung across his body, his attention glued to the phone in his hand.
“Go.” Rob gave me an encouraging nod. “You’ve got this.”
I reluctantly stood up, not at all keen on leaving my imaginary safety bubble with him. Walking out of Starbucks, I pulled out my own phone and pretended to stare at it as I strolled in Elijah’s direction, before gently bumping his shoulder.
“Sorry, I wasn’t watching— Oh, hey.” I stopped in front of him and feigned surprise. “Elijah? From the wedding last weekend?”
He looked up from his phone, startled. His eyebrows were furrowed, like he was trying to place me or my name, before clearing up a few seconds later.
“Kim, right? Rob Carmichael’s friend? The one with chocolate on your dress?”
“That’s me,” I said, relieved that he at least remembered my name, and that made me relax a little. Good start. “Fancy running into you here! Do you live in the area?”
“I work there.” He gestured at the building behind him. “You?”
“I was just there to see a friend.” I waved a hand at the Starbucks behind me. It wasn’t exactly a lie, because I did sit down and have coffee with Rob. “Do you work on weekends?”
“Yeah. We’re under a deadline to finish edits on a movie. I would have kept working, but I usually have dinner with my parents on Saturdays.”
Okay, bonus points for being close to his family. Not that it would have mattered because I wasn’t in this for the long haul, but it was nice to at least know that.
“You’ve got such a cool job. It must be so fun to work with movies all day long.”
A smile formed on his lips. “It’s the best job in the world.”
“I’d be interested in hearing about your work sometime.” I fluttered my eyelashes a little. “I’ve always been so fascinated with how movies are made.”
“Sure.” His eyes lit up with excitement. “I’m always down to talk about movies. I’ve got half an hour before I need to go. Do you want to grab a quick cup of coffee and chat?”
“I’d love to.”
Rob was still inside, sitting where we previously were, but his shoulders were hunched, and his cap was pulled low over his head, so Elijah didn’t seem to realize as we walked past.
I ordered my second latte, then joined him at a small table near the back.
“How long have you been a film editor?”
“More than half my life.” His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he was reminiscing about the past. “I started fresh out of high school, worked as a gofer for an indie movie director while studying part-time, then slowly moved up to where I am now. I’ve been lucky to have collaborated with some of the best directors and actors in the industry. ”
“That’s amazing. You must have seen thousands of movies, working in that industry for as long as you have. Do you have a favorite?”
“The Exorcist. I think that should be everyone’s favorite movie.”
“I’ve never seen The Exorcist before.”
There was a long, painful pause following my announcement. Elijah was staring at me with a mixture of disbelief, judgment, and disgust.
“Did you really say you’ve never seen The Exorcist?” He enunciated the last few words slowly, as if he was explaining quantum physics to a group of three-year-olds. “Are you being serious right now?”
“I am. I’ve never seen it.”
He looked scandalized. “How has anyone never seen the greatest movie of all time?”
“Horror movies aren’t really my thing.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “Tried it once, discovered I’m not a fan of the nightmares it gave me for the next few weeks.”
“At least tell me you’ve heard the theme music.” He hummed a song I’d never heard before. “‘Tubular Bells’? By Mike Oldfield? It’s a classic tune.”
When I shook my head, the baffled look on his face turned feral, as if my ignorance of his beloved movie had somehow unleashed the dormant monster inside his psyche, who had been waiting for the right moment to strike at a poor, random soul who had innocently commented on a movie genre they weren’t a fan of.
Me. I was the poor, random soul.
“You know horror movies aren’t real, right?
You can’t be afraid of something that doesn’t actually exist. And The Exorcist isn’t just ‘a horror movie.’ It’s a masterpiece.
Did you know it was nominated for ten Oscars?
Ten! It’s a powerful, spellbinding tale of possession.
It transcends movies. They just don’t make films like that anymore these days. ”
Oh Lord.
I listened as politely as I could, as Elijah launched into a long explanation of how the movie was the top-grossing R-rated horror film for almost half a century, while I mentally drew a thick red line to cross out his name from the list of potential suitors.
I had nothing against people who liked horror movies, but Elijah seemed a little too … intense.
“Horror is, by far, the best genre out there. Way better than thriller, sci-fi, action, or drama, and definitely better than romance. It’s a delicate balance to achieve, because it must be chilling and thought-provoking at the same time.
It must be unsettling enough to evoke dread and fear, but it must also have memorable plots and characters, instead of just relying on shock value.
And the best ones? They will do all that and make you question your own reality. ”
“Fascinating.” I glanced at my watch. “Didn’t you say you only have half an hour?”
“I can spare a few more minutes.” He whipped out his phone and opened YouTube. “I’m always excited to share my love of the genre. Let me show you my favorite scene from the movie. It’s when the main character, Regan, vomits on—”
“I think I might’ve forgotten to lock my car.” I stood up so quickly, my chair nearly rammed into the person sitting behind me. “I have to go.”
“Wait, it’s only a short video, it won’t take too much of your time.”
“It was nice meeting you, Elijah.”
But he seemed to have made it his personal mission to convince me to join the other side.
“At least let me show you one clip. Trust me, this movie changed my life, because it made me want to do what I’m doing now.
” He caught my right wrist, trying to force me back into my seat.
“Or if you’re free tomorrow night, come by the studio.
I have the fiftieth anniversary ultimate collector’s edition, and I’d be more than happy to show you the entire movie. ”
I yanked my hand away, but he was stronger. My next instinct was to throw my latte in his face, or maybe kick him in the nuts, but before I could do any of it, there was a gentle squeeze on my shoulder.
Rob was standing next to me, but his attention was on Elijah. His usually warm hazel eyes were now cold, and there was a tick in his jaw as he gave the other man a curt nod. “Let her hand go. You’re hurting her.”
Suddenly Elijah and his death grip on my hand was the least of my concerns, because all I could focus on was the way Rob was standing so close next to me, and how his low, authoritative voice was stirring something up in my belly.
It seemed to shake Elijah out of whatever trance he was in, because his eyes grew larger, and he quickly dropped my wrist as if I’d been licked by fire and he had to save himself from being burned.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I got carried away.”
Rob’s glare stayed on him for a few more beats, before he turned his attention to me. “We should go. Ellie called, said something about a wine tasting emergency at her store.”
“Of course. Thanks for a great chat, Elijah. See you around.”
I grabbed my bag and sprinted out of the place to my freedom.
The minute we walked out of Starbucks, Rob took my wrist, the one Elijah had been clutching, and examined it. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” His warm hand holding mine felt wonderful. “He didn’t hurt me.”
“That was out of line.” Rob looked angry. “He shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for him.” I halfheartedly pulled my hand away. “But I’m seriously wondering if I should even keep on trying. You kept telling me that they’re all good guys, and they are, but they’re also not what I’m looking for.”
“I know.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry the afternoon didn’t go well. But we’ve still got a very good chance of finding someone at the next three weddings.”
“Should I even go?” But I knew I had to, because I didn’t have a better option. Plus, he’d done so much for me, and I already promised that I’d be there for him.
And, maybe, maybe, if I really wanted to be honest with myself, I was kind of enjoying spending time with him at those weddings.
More than those guys I was supposed to be wooing.
“You should. We’ll find your perfect man, I promise.” He cleared his throat. “What’s up for the rest of your Saturday night?”
“Something quiet. Some Japanese takeout and maybe a movie or two.”
“Oh.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m making some pizza tonight, if you want to come over. I figured after what you’d just gone through, I owe you a nice dinner.”
“You? You can make pizza?”
“From scratch. Made the dough myself and everything.”
“You don’t have any plans?” I raised my eyebrows. “It’s Saturday night.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because you seem like the type who would have exciting plans for their Saturday nights, instead of staying in and making pizza.”
“Are you saying pizza isn’t exciting?” He flashed his dimples at me.
“I don’t know what kind of person you think I’m supposed to be, but yes, I often stay in on Saturday nights and make pizzas.
Tacos, sometimes. My lasagna’s gotten rave reviews, too.
From my mom mostly, but she’s quite particular with her food, so I think you can trust her opinion. Also, define ‘exciting plans.’”
“I don’t know. Parties? Clubs? Dates with gorgeous people? Fancy dinner with friends?”
“That’s what I’m trying to suggest. Dinner with a friend, although it won’t be too fancy. It’ll be homemade pizza. You can choose what toppings you want, though, so I guess that’s pretty fancy, right? I’ll even throw in a pint of ice cream, and we can call it a party.”
He watched me, waiting for my reply, while the cogs in my brain belatedly kicked themselves into gear, and a wild thought crossed my mind.
Is he asking me on a date?
“Are you asking me on a date?”
The grin he sent my way lit up his entire face, and for a minute I couldn’t seem to remember my own name.
“Call it what you want. It can be two friends spending time with each other, or it can also be me apologizing because of the horrible afternoon I’ve put you through.”
Of course. Why on Earth did I think this could be considered a date? He was still hung up on his ex, after all.
“So? Is that a yes on the pizza?”
Logically, I knew I should say no.
“Sure. Pizza is always a good idea.”