Chapter Seven Amanda
Chapter Seven
Amanda
A manda had not expected to line up this many dates so quickly. She’d posted her profile to a dating app three nights ago and already she had six matches. Plus, she had lined up four in-person dates from those six matches in an attempt to keep her promise to Nola. The summer of romance menu was shaping up to look like the following:
Gerry, 35: Looking for that missing piece who makes my life whole.
Stone, 29: Chill guy looking for an even more chill girl to chill with.
Maxwell, 34: My Labrador needs a mom, and I’m looking for a MILF.
Raad, 39: If you love game nights, I’m down to play.
She wasn’t feeling entirely hopeful having read each of their bios, but honestly, this was the best of the batch. Plus, they were all decently attractive, even though she didn’t find herself feeling any butterflies when she looked at their pictures. And none of them went to her high school or were super recognizable from around town, so that was the most important part.
Either way, Amanda was trying to be open-minded to the fact that she knew a simple dating profile wasn’t going to be enough to actually get to know who someone really was, so she was willing to at least meet these four men and see if there was anything there.
Her cell phone lit up and her cousin Nola’s name appeared across the screen with a text message notification. I’m so excited to hear how your first date goes!
Amanda slid the phone into the pocket of her messenger bag as she reached her other hand for the local bookstore’s door handle. Rosie had opened Fact or Fiction years and years ago, and it was still one of her favorite places to hang out now that Rosie had expanded it to have a small café section with comfy couches, hot coffee, and premade sandwiches and pastries. Before the expansion, it had struggled for quite a few years there, and Rosie had been very worried she was going to lose it entirely, but she’d really turned it around after meeting Evan and getting some of her confidence back.
“Amanda!” Rosie called out to her and offered a hearty wave from where she was standing behind the counter, checking a customer out at the cash register.
Amanda waved back but didn’t walk over to her—not wanting to interrupt her friend while she was working. Instead, she made her way to her favorite couch against the back wall and sank into the cushion as she placed her bag down next to her. She dug inside and pulled out a faux leather-bound journal that she’d gotten as a gift a few Christmases ago from her mother that she’d never actually used yet.
Her mother and Nola’s mother were sisters, but that was mostly where their connection ended. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she and Nola had stayed very close their entire lives, but their mothers had drifted apart and were now more like strangers. Nola’s parents were travelers in their retirement, always off on a different cruise or adventure, so they were rarely back in Heart Lake for more than a few weeks at a time. Amanda’s mother, however, had fallen on hard times after divorcing Amanda’s father, and her mother’s way of emotionally coping was to glue herself to her job instead.
Amanda was quite certain at this point that her mother had no plans to ever retire, and, given that she worked concierge at a local hotel, it was probably not very attainable. It meant that Amanda rarely saw her, either, unless she stopped by the hotel, which she sometimes did with the girls for high tea on Sunday afternoons.
Amanda pulled the plastic off the journal and shoved it into her bag, then found a pen in one of its pockets and flipped the journal open to the first page.
Tonight, I’m meeting Gerry, and I haven’t been on a date in…
She paused what she was writing and tried to calculate back to the last time she’d gone out with someone. There’d been that one impromptu coffee with the tourist she’d met on the lake a few summers back, but that was barely a date, and she had never called him back. Before that, she’d had a long-distance relationship with a man she’d met online who lived on the West Coast and who she never actually met in person. People could judge all they wanted, but that had actually been perfect for her in a lot of ways. It had met her need for attention and validation and connection but kept the option of anything physical completely off the table. Eventually, though, he’d met someone in person that he’d developed a stronger connection with—meaning: could actually have sex with—and that relationship fizzled.
Let’s just say, it’s been a long time , she wrote.
She kept scribbling for a bit, trying her best to manifest what tonight might look like on her date. That was actually advice from Marvel— manifest what you want from tonight and then it will happen . Why she still listened to the elderly hippy, she didn’t know. But that woman was the heart and soul of this town, and it was impossible not to acknowledge that her advice and wisdom was often right on the money, even if it was often a little—or a lot—odd.
As she was writing, her cell phone began ringing in her bag. She retrieved it quickly and noted that it was from an unknown phone number but decided to answer it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Riverswood?” A female voice on the other end of the line sounded on the verge of panic. “Amanda, is that you?”
“Mrs. Crawford?” Amanda seemed to recognize the voice as one of Clayton’s current clients, whom they were remodeling an entire master bedroom and bathroom for. “Is everything okay?”
“Nothing is okay!” the woman screeched, then let out a pained cry. “I’m sorry. I’m all out of sorts today. We went to Chicago for the weekend, and when we came home, we found that a pipe in the master bathroom had burst and completely flooded the downstairs hall bathroom and living room. We have to literally go stay in a hotel because the place is unlivable!”
Amanda gasped. “Oh my gosh, how horrible! Mrs. Crawford, I’m so sorry. Has the leak been fixed?”
“It has,” she confirmed. “Everything is finally in working order from a plumbing standpoint, but not aesthetically. The drywall is all brown and melty looking, and the furniture is water stained and smelly. It will have to be entirely gutted and redone.”
“I completely understand,” she replied. “Clayton will be back in town in early July, and we can get started on that immediately for you. I’ll make sure it’s a top priority for the firm.”
“That is forever from now!” Mrs. Crawford sounded back on the verge of a panic attack. “I can’t wait that long. And you’re the one who fixed the designs from our first job anyway. I don’t need Clayton or his vision for this. I just want to work directly with you, Amanda.”
She could feel her ego basking in the warmth of that compliment. “Mrs. Crawford, I am so appreciative of that, but I have strict instructions to wait on any new projects until my boss is back. I’m—”
“I’ll pay double your hourly consulting fee,” Mrs. Crawford cut her off. “And I won’t say a thing to the firm if you don’t want me to. Hell, if this goes well, open your own firm, and I’ll fund the start-up. I only want to work with you, Amanda, and I’m willing to invest in you if that’s what it takes.”
Double her hourly fee and a potential future investor? Amanda was speechless. It felt like all of her dreams were being dangled in front of her. There was no way Mrs. Crawford actually meant any of this—Amanda recognized the pleas of a desperate woman as something not to hang her hope on.
“Amanda? Are you still there?” Mrs. Crawford’s voice brought her out of her shock. “Is that a yes?”
“Uh…” Amanda swallowed hard as she tried to weigh the pros and the cons—the biggest con being that Clayton would be furious if he found out, and it would violate the noncompete contract she’d signed with him when she started. She was unsure if Clayton was the type who’d actually follow through on suing her over that contract because noncompetes were pretty hard to enforce. But legally, he could if he wanted to, and even if he didn’t, she didn’t want to create a lot of bad blood between them. He was the only other designer in town, and he could either be her biggest competitor or her biggest asset.
And she couldn’t afford the former.
“Yes, I’m still here,” she finally responded. “And I’d love to do it. I’ll meet you at your house later this afternoon. Does three o’clock work?”
“Perfect,” Mrs. Crawford confirmed. “Thank you so much, Amanda. You are an absolute answer from heaven.”
“You’re welcome,” Amanda replied before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.
She slid the phone back in her bag just as Rosie walked over and dropped down on the couch next to her.
“It’s been back-to-back busy today with customers,” Rosie voiced with a happy sigh. “Thank fricking God, because Becca wants to join Pentwater Pliés Ballet School, and the tuition is six hundred dollars a quarter—that’s for two forty-five-minute classes each week. Children’s extracurriculars are the world’s most expensive racket, I swear to God.”
Amanda offered her a wry grin. “Sorry to hear that, but you know Madame Hoar is the best in this area. If Becca wants to become a ballerina, Pentwater Pliés is the way to go.”
“I know.” Rosie let out a whine. “I’m going to let her do it, but I just have to come to terms with the price tag.”
Amanda shrugged, fiddling with the pen in her hand as she reread her manifestation journal entry.
Rosie paused and surveyed Amanda for a moment. “What’s wrong? What are you doing? Your face looks like you’ve got a secret.”
“It’s not a secret.” Amanda found herself defensive immediately. “I’m just… I’m in flux.”
Her friend frowned. “In flux? What does that mean?”
“I just got offered a design job,” Amanda admitted. “And it’s not with Clayton.”
Rosie sat up on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees. “Does he know that? Because Clayton can be kind of strict, and you know that.”
“I do know that,” she confirmed. “But he’s out of town, and she needs this done immediately—like today. She was panicking, and I couldn’t say no! But he also told me very explicitly not to take any new jobs, and Mrs. Crawford said she didn’t even want to do it with his firm. She wants to do it directly with me.”
“Mrs. Amal Crawford?” Rosie questioned, her eyes widening. “She’s literally the richest person in town. Also the most eccentric, if you don’t count Marvel.”
Amanda nodded. “Working on her house is literally a dream. She lets you take complete creative control. I can’t pass up a project like that… especially when she’s saying that if all goes well, she’d fund me starting my own design firm.”
“What?!” Rosie nearly jumped up off the couch, but she’d always been an overly expressive person. “You’ve wanted your own firm for years!”
“I know!” Amanda’s tone was hushed, and she looked around to make sure that no one was listening in on their conversation. “But I still have two more years on my contract with Clayton, and I signed a noncompete.”
Rosie waved her hand like that was irrelevant. “Those are so easy to get out of these days. They are really just shitty to begin with. All noncompetes do is keep small businesses down and populate monopolies.”
Amanda wasn’t about to get into a political discussion with her because Rosie also worked at the newspaper part time and had a lot of strong opinions about the world. Which was great, but not helpful to her in the emotional paradox she was storming through right now.
“I told her I’d take it,” Amanda added. “I’m meeting her today to get started.”
Rosie grinned and snapped her fingers on both hands. “Look at you getting it, girl. You’re out there doing your thing, and you’re going to make a name for yourself. Do you want to remodel Fact or Fiction? We could probably use it sometime soon.”
She shook her head and waved Rosie off. “Don’t get so ahead of yourself. We have no idea how this is going to go—or how Clayton is going to react. Plus, I appreciate the pity job, but Fact or Fiction is pretty perfect as it is right now.”
Her friend laughed and proudly looked around the room. “You’re right. This place is like a library meets someone’s grandparents’ living room. Just the right amount of cozy.”
Amanda couldn’t think of a better description. “Hence why half the town spends their afternoons here.”
“Still, I think you’re going to kill that job,” Rosie replied, her voice softer and supportive now. “Mrs. Crawford is absolutely going to want to get into business with you. Wait! Don’t you have a date tonight?”
Amanda nodded. “Gerry, but that’s not until six o’clock, so I should be able to do both.”
“I mean, you can ,” Rosie agreed, but the tilt of her eyebrows looked skeptical. “But should you? You tend to get kind of messy on jobsites. First dates are about making an impression.”
“I’m not going to get messy,” Amanda assured her. “But even if I did, isn’t dating supposed to be about getting to know me for who I am? I don’t want to pretend to be something different and then get in a bind later.”
“It’s not pretending to put your best foot forward,” Rosie countered. “It’s just hedging your bets. Getting them not to overlook you before getting to know you.”
“And you did that with Evan?” Amanda asked.
“Well, no,” Rosie admitted. “He kind of saw me at my worst and we went from there. Okay, maybe that advice is actually hogwash. Just show up to the date unshowered and in a pair of overalls.”
Amanda laughed and shook her head. “Overalls might be a step too far, even for me.”
The friends chatted a little longer before Amanda looked at the clock and realized she had to head out if she wanted to make it to her new jobsite on time. She tried not to think about the fact that she was going to be meeting Gerry, 35 a few hours after that.
After all, this was the summer of romance, and tonight was only a first pit stop on the way to forever. At least, that’s what she was trying to convince herself of.