Match Me (5 page)

“I was referring to your totem animals. And tarot cards. And all that other woo-woo stuff you believe in.”

I grabbed another handful of eyeballs. “What’s so wrong about believing in a little magic?”

“There is no such thing as magic.” She shifted her bag to her other hand. “No such thing as karma. Destiny. All of that goofy crap.”

“It’s not goofy to me.”

“Weren’t you convinced that Chase was your destiny?” She leaned closer. “That you two were meant to be? That, even though he broke up with you over a year ago, the ‘Universe’ would somehow find a way to bring you back together?”

I bit my lip. Now would not be a good time to tell her that I’d thought maybe Bjorn had been brought to me, courtesy of the Universe. Wouldn’t help my sanity plea in the slightest, come to think of it.

I changed the subject. “I told you she was there with Paul, right?”

Jill nodded. “Surprise, surprise.”

It had surprised me. The last time I’d seen them was the grocery store and Paul had been decidedly unfriendly toward Jenna. When I stepped out of the bathroom at The Irish Lass and saw Paul at a table, I’d come to a screeching halt. When Jenna joined him a few minutes later, I almost fell out of my chair. He’d waved and offered a half-smile and then turned his attention to his beautiful, venomous date. I wondered if I should tell him that, like Angela, Jenna was pretty bad news, too.

“I was surprised,” I said, walking toward the cash register. A little kid bought a dinosaur eraser and I waited while he counted out forty-three pennies.

“Why?” Jill asked. “He’s not dating anyone.”

“I know. She just doesn’t seem like his type.” It was a lame thing to say, considering I had no idea what Paul’s type was. But it certainly seemed to answer my question from the previous day. I was not on Paul’s list.

“Hmm.” She smiled. “Speaking of types, we need to talk about your next date.”

My shoulders slumped. “Why?”

I’d convinced her that first night to just set up one. The one with the turtle killer. Part of me was kind of hoping she’d forget about the other. School was starting in a couple of weeks and she was busy buying textbooks and getting a head start on reading.

She held up two fingers. “Because you promised two. And you’ve only gone on one.”

“None of the other guys looked interesting,” I said.

“Bull. None of the other guys looked like Chase.” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. I knew you would say that.”

“You did?”

“Yep. Which is why I went ahead and just scheduled one for you.”

“Jill!”

“Tonight. Here in town.” She checked her watch. “Your shift ends at five, right? Ten minutes. I have you meeting Rob at Champs at 7:00. Plenty of time to shower and change.”

“No.”

She laughed. “No what? You promised, remember? I thought it was bad karma to break a promise. Especially to your best friend.”

There weren’t many days where I felt like punching my best friend. But today was one of them. I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth.

“I don’t like you.”

“I know.” She hugged me. “You love me, though.”

TWELVE

Marcus asked me to work a half hour longer so I barely had time to shower and change before my mystery date. Jill tried to tell me about him as I finished up my shift but I held up my hand.

“No. I don’t want to know anything.”

“How are you going to know who to look for?” she asked.

“He’s seen my picture, right?”

She nodded. Since she hadn’t left, I’d put her to work, red-lining tags with sale prices and putting them in the clearance section.

“And since I—I mean, you—are apparently the only honest one on dating sites, I’ll look exactly like my picture on the web site. He can find me.”

“OK.” She paused. “But just in case, he has dark–”

“Shh. I don’t want to know.”

I parked my car and walked toward the restaurant, smoothing the creases in my jeans. I tugged at the waistband a little, trying to adjust it. It was the first time I’d worn them all summer and they felt snug and I wondered if I was gaining weight. And if I was, should I blame it on all the drama in my life or the fact that I suddenly couldn’t go more than an hour without eating a piece of chocolate? Maybe consuming chocolate created new brain cells. I made a mental note to look it up later.

The restaurant was packed. Dozens of people stood in the bar, watching the Twins game on the restaurant’s four big-screen TVs. Most of the tables were full, too. There were a few familiar faces but everyone was engrossed in the game. I tried to find an empty part of the room to focus my gaze on, to try to avoid bringing attention to myself.

“Bonita?” a soft voice asked from behind me.

I spun around. “Excuse me?”

A dark-haired Hispanic man stood inches away from me, a bouquet of red roses in his hands. He held them out to me.

“Los flores de bonita para mi nina bonita,” he said.

I’d taken French in high school. “What?”

“Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl,” the man said. His eyes roved over me. “You are just as lovely in person as on the computer.”

So this was Rob.

“Roberto,” he said, extending his hand. I reached out to shake and he brought my hand to his lips.

“I’m Bonnie,” I said, pulling my hand away before he could slobber on it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” His brown eyes burned into me and I squirmed. “I have reserved a table for us.”

I’d been to Champs more times than I could count and I knew one thing: they did not take reservations.

“Follow me.” He reached for my hand and led me to a back corner. That was fine with me. Less chance I’d run into anyone I knew.

The table was covered with a white lace tablecloth. Another bouquet of red roses sat in a vase in the center of the table. A collection of tea light candles surrounded the vase, flickering.

“Did you do this?” I asked, looking at the other tables. All bare wood. No flowers. And definitely no candles.

“Of course.” He smiled and his teeth glowed white in the candlelight. “A little ambiance, no?”

He pulled my chair out and I sank into it.

“And now,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I wish to give you a gift.”

“A gift?” I asked, my eyes wide with shock. “But you already gave me flowers and we just met…”

“I insist,” Roberto said. He produced a slim white box. “Something beautiful for a beautiful woman.”

I opened it. A gold bracelet with a single charm. A red rose.

I snapped it shut and thrust it back at him. “I can’t accept this. I don’t even know you.”

“It is tradition,” he said. He reached across the table and grabbed my hands. His thumbs stroked my fingers. “A gift of courtship.”

“OK. Wait a minute.” I yanked my hands away and pinched my eyes closed. “Courtship?”

“But, of course.” I opened my eyes and Roberto was staring at me, a perplexed expression on his face.

“We’re on a blind date,” I said. “A first date. Possibly our one and only date. You don’t just hand out gold bracelets to every woman you meet, do you?”

He frowned at me. “Every woman? What do you mean?”

“From the web site. The dating web site.”

“I do not understand.”

“Match Me? The site you were on?”

He shook his head, genuinely confused. “Dating? No. It is a match-making site. Courtship. Matrimony. I have chosen you, mi amor.”

I leaped to my feet. “Matrimony? Like, marriage?”

He nodded.

“Oh my God.” I shook my head. “OK. No. You misunderstood. It is a
dating
site. Dating. Match me—like, find me a date. Not a…a wife!”

“So, you do not wish to marry me?”

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “I do not wish to marry you. I don’t wish to marry anyone.”

“Now, that’s not true,” a woman’s voice said from behind me.

I froze.

“Because last week, I’m pretty sure you wanted to marry my husband.”

THIRTEEN

Had it really been a week since Chase and Angela’s wedding? Apparently, yes, because a furious newlywed was standing in front of me, her hands perched on her hips.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to still show your face in public,” Angela snarled.

I backed up.

“Who are you?” Roberto asked as he sprang from the table. “How dare you speak to my betrothed that way?”

Angela stared at him. “Your what?”

“My bride-to-be,” he said proudly. “We are to marry.”

“Oh my God.” I shook my head. “Stop it. Just stop.” I turned to Angela. “Look, I’m sorry about last week. I…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She smirked. “Oh yes, you did. You thought you’d show up and cry and try to ruin my wedding. Well, it didn’t work. We still got married. And everyone knows you were there. Crying while your ex married someone else. Me.” She looked me up and down. “This isn’t over, Bonnie. This is just beginning.” 

She turned and flounced toward the bar.

“Bonita?” Roberto’s voice was filled with confusion. “Did you do this? Do you…do you love another man?”

I shook my head. “No, no.” But then inspiration struck. “I mean yes. Yes I do.”

He nodded, his eyes downcast. “I see. Then we cannot marry.”

“Exactly.” I was limp with relief. I handed him the box with the bracelet inside. “We probably shouldn’t even eat dinner. You know? Since all I’ll be thinking about is the man I love.”

“Yes.” He stooped down and retrieved a basket from under the table. Slowly, he gathered the items on the table, blowing out the candles and folding the lace tablecloth before stowing them in the basket.

He finished and turned to face me.

“So, uh, good luck with the wife hunt,” I said.

“Yes. I will continue looking.” He shook his head sadly. “I am sorry it is not meant to be. For you and me. We would have made beautiful babies.”

He looked so forlorn, I felt sorry for him. “Don’t worry,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “The perfect woman is out there, waiting for you. I just know it.”

He left and I sat down at the bare table, unsure of what to do. Angela was in the main part of the restaurant. There was a pretty good chance Chase was there, too.

I couldn’t face him. Not now. I didn’t know what I’d do. What I’d say. Maybe I could just sit at my little table tucked in the back of the restaurant and wait them out. I grabbed my phone from my purse and checked the time. It was just before eight. The bar closed at two. A little more than six hours to go. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“Hey, Bonnie.”

My eyes flew open.

Paul smiled at me. “How’s it going?”

“OK.”

“You here by yourself?”

I hesitated. How did I explain what had just happened?

“Sort of,” I averred.

He leaned in, a puzzled expression on his face. “That usually isn’t a question you answer with a maybe. You either are or you aren’t.”

“I was here with someone. But they left.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” He waited.

“You?” I asked.

He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “A little welcome home party for Chase and Angela.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I saw her.”

He winced. “How did that go?”

“Not well.”

“Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can I do anything?”

“Do you know a way to make me invisible?”

He laughed. “I wish.” He thought for a minute. “Can’t do that but I do know someone in the kitchen.”

“They have wizards in the kitchen?”

“Nooo. But there’s a kitchen exit. And you can leave that way. If you want.”

I leaped to my feet. “Want. Please.”

I followed him past the restrooms, to the employee entrance. He peered through the door and motioned to someone inside.

A tiny brunette stepped out of the kitchen. She wore a white coat and one of those cute little chef hats.

“Hey, Meg.”

The chef smiled at Paul. “Hey, you. How are you?”

“Good, good.” Paul glanced at me and then back at Meg. “Say, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can we borrow your exit?”

“My what?”

“Employee exit. The kitchen.”

Meg settled her gaze on me and I saw recognition flash in her eyes. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” She pushed open the kitchen door and motioned us inside.

Paul and I followed her, weaving our way between counters and fryers and long, metal grills covered in burgers. My stomach growled. I still needed dinner.

Meg led us to the back door. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Paul said. “I owe you.”

“No problem.” She looked up at him. “And I’ll cash in. Drinks tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Absolutely.”

“So, thanks,” I said when she’d closed the door.

“No problem.” He walked with me as I headed to my car. “This will blow over, you know. May not seem like it now, but it will.”

I doubted it, but didn’t say it, I just kept walking toward my car.

“And just so you know. Chase. He isn’t mad or anything.”

I stopped. “No?”

Paul shook his head. “Nah. I mean, if you think about it, it’s kind of flattering. Having an ex-girlfriend show up at your wedding and all.”

I snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think anyone else sees it that way.”

“Not Angela, that’s for sure.” He grinned. “But something else will piss her off. Soon. She’ll have something new to be worked up over. You’ll drop on her list.”

I pulled my keys from by purse. “So I just need to lay low until that happens, I guess.”

“No. You shouldn’t.”

“Paul, I’m the laughingstock of the entire town.”

“No. You aren’t.”

“How can you even say that?” Even my best friend thought I was crazy.

“Because I know.” He leaned against the side of my car. “Girls are all dreamy-eyed, talking about how they wish they had someone they loved like that. Guys are all wishing that some girl would love them enough to take a stand.”

“But I ruined their wedding.”

He rolled his eyes. “You stood in the doorway and cried a little. You didn’t ruin anything. They still got married.”