The Last Single Girl (4 page)

"Put your wallet away. You're my guinea pig."

While that was really sweet, watching him struggle to get this café moving meant I couldn't imagine taking my tea for free.

"John, I can't expect you to give me tea every time I'm here."

"Trust me. With some of my practice blends you'll be thinking I should pay you."

As he turned around to put the tea tray together, I glanced for the tip jar. When I didn't find one, I leaned over the counter and slipped the five under the register's keyboard.

"Here you go. Good luck with Date Three."

"Thanks." He really was sweet. Plus, The Brew Ha Ha was exactly the type of place people liked to come in and feel at home in. It had to gain traction soon.

I set the tray on the coffee table and settled back to wait. I spent the time reviewing Date Three's profile for things to discuss.

It was almost seven when a haggard looking man attempting to corral three children rushed in. He brought the kids to the counter and let them each pick out a treat. While they did, he glanced around the café, his gaze landing on me.

He looked oddly familiar. Maybe the family who lived upstairs from me? I dismissed the idea as soon as I'd considered it. If this was the upstairs family, I'd have moved out already. The boys alone made enough noise for four families.

They settled at the far end of the café at a collection of tables. The man pulled out a bunch of games and coloring books and leaned in to give them what looked like a stern lecture.

Instead of sitting down, he turned and strode across the café. Stopping in front of me. Oh, lord. No, please.

"Sarah?" Date Three had a nice voice, was good looking, and seemed to be struggling not to look frazzled.

"Malcolm?" I was still hoping I was wrong. That the oddly familiar face wasn't from his profile pics.

But at his name, he seemed to relax.

"It's nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out and waited while I stood and shook it. "Sorry about the kids. My sitter canceled at the last minute and since we didn't swap phone numbers I wasn't really sure what to do."

I almost told him ninety percent of people under sixty had a smartphone so an email would have done it. But I could see he was really working to make this as
not
awkward as possible.

Malcolm had been very sweet in his emails. He hadn't mentioned his kids, which seemed like a huge oversight. I understood a lot of women might shy away from giving a guy with kids a chance, but wouldn't you want to know that ahead of time? But what were you going to do? I could go with it.

He set his coffee down and settled into the chair next to me, pushing it a bit so he was only halfway facing me.

"So, this is great. Nice coffee shop. I've never been here before."

"Thanks. All I did was pick it. John, the owner, is the secret behind the magic." I followed Malcolm's gaze toward his kids. "So, do you—"

"Jeffery." Malcolm half stood, pointing toward the table where his kids sat. "Put that down. You brought your own coloring books."

Jeffery looked like he was going to ignore the commandment, hugging the coloring book to his chest.

"You also have your Gameboy. That's going to have to be how you spend your time. Now hand her back her book."

The little girl next to him with a blue crayon gripped in her hand held out her free hand with a dignity you expected from a queen. Jeffery tossed the coloring book down in front of her and picked up his game.

"Sorry about that. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a babysitter."

"No problem. Kids can be a handful."

"Do you have any kids?"

Seriously? I almost told him if I'd had kids they would have been mentioned in my profile. You know, that page with all your
important
information?

"No. No kids."

"Have you been married before?"

Again. Profile page.

Come to think of it, I didn't think I picked anyone who had been divorced. I remembered thinking anyone who was divorced at my age was probably in a different place than I was. Maybe later, but it just seemed so foreign an idea at twenty-nine.

"Never married."

"Don't—" Malcolm shot out of his chair. "Matthew, what made you think hitting your brother with a coffee mug would be acceptable?"

Malcolm rushed across the room as John met him at the table, trusty towel in hand to mop up the spilled hot chocolate.

I watched as Malcolm wrapped his hand around Matthew's arm and leaned in to have a quiet—although intense looking—conversation. Matthew's lips tightened into a little pucker as his gaze shoot toward me.

John straightened, watching the byplay between father and son before glancing my way.

When the quiet conversation ended, Malcolm straightened, gave the whole table a stern look, and headed back to me.

"Sorry about that."

"Um, no problem."

"So, we were talking about you. You've never been married. You work at a museum. How do you like that?"

"A lot actually. I'm lucky to do something I love. I handle the special events at a small private museum. Very select loan and viewing programs. My job lets me handle the events start to finish. It's always exciting to get to bring an idea from start to showing."

"That's… um, interesting. So, you do things like hang stuff on the walls?"

"Well, there's more to it than that. Hanging art is an art form in itself. If they aren't set up to be viewed properly, it can make or break the show. And not doing my job makes an artist look bad."

Malcolm just looked at me like that wasn't just a new idea, but a really boring, unimportant one.

"Your profile said you worked at Carmel Financial. What do you do there?"

"I'm a corporate advisor."

"I'm not sure I know what that means." I smiled at him, giving him the open to tell me about his job or change the topic.

"Really?"

I tired not to be insulted at the way he said it. As if I was stupid for not knowing what his job did.

"I assume you work with companies to do something financial."

"There's more to it than that." Malcolm launched into what would have been an excellent training video for new corporate advisors, but horrible for anyone who couldn't have cared less about corporations, advisors, or finances.

I'd started my 401k right away and hired a good planner because I wanted to retire one day. That was as smart as I was going to get about finances. Budget tightly and hire a good planner.

I know my weaknesses. I wasn't going to let them cost me my retirement.

But I also wasn't interested in what a planner—any planner—did every day, especially with corporations.

The only thing that broke up the lecture was his constant need to stop his kids from stealing each other's stuff, hurting one another, or destroying The Brew.

I was trying not to glaze over when a little body threw itself at Malcolm.

"Daddy, we've been here forever. You said she would be fun, but all she's done is sit there and drink her drink. I have to pee and Jeffery and Matthew said I have to go by myself, but I don't want to go in there alone. I don't know what's in there and my hot chocolate is cold and Matthew scribbled on my pony picture and I'm bored and you said we'd get ice cream after this."

"Alright, you've been really good. Go tell your brothers to pack up."

I shuddered. If this was
good,
I was afraid to see what the little terrors were like if set on destruction.

"Sarah, would you mind?"

I glanced around trying to figure out what he was asking. "Would I mind?"

"Would you mind taking Amy to the ladies room?"

I stared at him waiting for the
just joking
that never came.

"Actually, yes I would mind. I don't know your daughter and I've never brought a little girl to the bathroom before. I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with that."

Malcolm set his hands on his hips as he stood over me—also probably waiting for the
just joking
.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really." How could this date not be over yet?

"Sarah, I thought we might have been a good match, but if you can't even do this one little thing, I'm not sure you're mother material."

"I never claimed to be mother material. But then again, you never claimed to be a father. So, I guess we're even."

I stayed seated, waiting for him to make his move. Waiting for him to take the terrors and head out.

He hovered, just watching and waiting. Waiting for what? Who knows?

Finally, he shook his head. "I'm not going to lie. I'm a little disappointed in you."

Really? I'm not the one who lied by omission all over my profile.

"Malcolm, I'm going to be honest here. You don't need a wife. You need a taskmaster of a nanny. I know that's a little more expensive, but it will save you money in the eLove membership fees."

I thought he was going to follow family suit and throw a hot beverage at me.

"Come on, kids. We're outta here."

And thank goodness.

The door was barely closed before John was filling the chair next to me.

"I can't believe how long you lasted." He sipped the tea he'd brought over with him. "I was ready to ask them to leave after the third hot chocolate spill."

"I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry about?"

"I brought them here."

"Yeah, it totally sounded like you knew you were getting four-for-one when you showed up." John crossed his legs, one ankle over knee. "So, Date Three was shopping for a mommy, huh?"

"Looks that way. His kids aren't the best advertisement for the position."

"His kids are an advertisement for sterilization."

"John!"

"What? They're the worst behaved children I've had in here since I opened. And he was completely intrusive as a parent. Expecting others to entertain, admonish, and care for his children."

"I take it you're not a kid person."

"I love kids. Six nephews, three nieces. But if they ever threw a drink anywhere, let alone in public, they'd be standing up to eat for a few days. Not getting a new one." I watched his foot shake as he talked about his family, a whole new energy rushing through him. "They're smart and sweet. But just like all of us at that age, they have a little of the devil in them. It's our job as the adults in their lives to teach them what's not appropriate. And to teach it kindly with firmness."

Wow. I hadn't put a lot of thought into it, but that sounded like a pretty good plan to me.

"What about you? Kid person?"

Was I? I didn't have any siblings, so no nieces or nephews. All my friends with kids had newborns. I was pretty sure I wasn't a baby person. They were just starting to get personalities no matter what their parents said about a certain smile or the way they cooed.

Malcolm's kids definitely scared me a bit.

"I don't know." That was the most honest answer I had. "I haven't been around a lot of kids."

"You've got plenty of time to figure it out. And keep in mind they're not all like the terrors."

"Thanks, John." I finished my tea and set the mug on the tray. "I'm off. I have to realign some lights that burnt out at work."

"Sounds exciting. See you for Date Four."

I waved over my shoulder at his laugh and wondered if maybe I should have put him in charge of going through the profiles. Having a sober bartender on my team should be good for something.

SEVEN

Funny Guy looking for Fun Girl for casual dating – Yes, we all want more in our lives, but let's start slow and see where things lead.

I'D LEARNED MY LESSONS with Dates One through Three. I asked straight out about kids. I also felt around about guy friends and dating rules. Date Four said he had no kids, wanted to keep it that way for a while, and his guys always had his back.

Also, none of his other friends were on eLove. Yes. I asked.

We'd been emailing for two weeks and I was glad when he asked about meeting up. I was on the verge of pushing us to the face-to-face, but had been trying to leave that up to my top five.

Date Four, Hank, was a little different from One through Three. He was looking for someone to go out with, someone who wanted to hear some bands and see some movies. There wasn't any talk about the future. No
is this good for long-term
more
let's just wait and see.
It felt more like when you're meeting someone organically.

You don't bump into some cute guy at a party and say, "Oh, hi. Are you looking to get married in the next three-to-seven years?" If you did, that's probably something you should seek help for.

I'd considered inviting Four—I mean Hank—to a different spot to meet. Four fails in a row might be a little embarrassing. But John had been so encouraging that it didn't seem fair to deprive him of my possible humiliation.

When I got to The Brew, John was training a mostly-blond girl behind the counter. He pointed out different coffee and tea blends, showing her how to measure out the right amount for each serving size. After a moment, he introduced us like he was entertaining in his living room instead of running a business.

"Abby, this is Sarah. She's our dater."

Great. Just what I needed to be known for.

"So, you just come in here every day with different a date?"

It sounded more ridiculous when spoken aloud.

Especially when it was being spoken with disdain by someone who couldn't be over sixteen, had two piercings in her eyebrow, and whose hair was actually three shades not seen in nature under the blond bits.

"Not
every
day."

"Abby is my new employee." The pride John said it with was almost as obvious as when Jane introduced Dahlia to people.

"Nice to meet you." I wasn't sure it really was. I hadn't been this nervous around a teenage girl since I was a teenage girl.

"Is that what you're wearing?"

Since I was obviously wearing what I was wearing, I wasn't sure how to answer that question. "Yes?"

"And this is a first date?"