The Last Single Girl (8 page)

"It's true. A burden I have to carry throughout my days." He wiped his hands on the ever present towel and nodded his head toward the counter. "Want some tea? You're running a little early, aren't you?"

"I can't. I promised to stop by work after I was dressed. They're having a New Year's Eve event. We're renting the space out, so I don't have to work it, but they wanted me to just come in and make sure everything was going like it should."

"They're going to love your new look."

"I'm tempted to buy a few more. Maybe I can bring the beaded mini-dress back."

I stood there, grinning up at him like an idiot—noticing his hair and his dimple and the freckles on the bridge of his nose and the flecks of green surprising me in his brown eyes. Just noticing.

"So…" John's eyebrows lifted, probably in an unspoken
Why are you looking at me like that? Please stop and back away
quirk.

"Right. So, I should get to work. And then off to face the vultures."

"It's going to be fine." He sounded so sure.

"I wish I had your confidence."

"It's easy to be confident. I've watched you handle everything short of a natural disaster with all those dates. If you could get through those, then tonight is going to be a piece of cake."

When put like that, I almost believed him.

Now it was just a matter of embracing my singleness and telling Claire where she could put her cat claws.

FOURTEEN

DATING TRUTH #9: I am woman, hear me roar. That's right, do not tick me off.

WHILE MY CAB WAITED its turn, I watched the line ahead of me as one made-up person after another climbed out and handed over their keys or paid off the cabbie. It was going to be a long night. I'd thought about getting there late or, at the very least, right as things were starting. Leave as little room for all the smug Claire comments and group pity as possible.

But then I got annoyed. Annoyed at Claire. Annoyed at the other girls for not standing up to her. Annoyed at myself for caring, for not standing up for myself. Annoyed it mattered that I was it. That everyone else was ready to climb on Noah's ark and I was the last of my kind. Just like the poor unicorn.

The point of having friends was not just to have people to do stuff with, but to have people who had your back. Who were there for you.

I may have been the Last Single Girl, but I had been for longer than I realized. The Alphabet didn't count because I'd never let myself get close to Becca and Angie because of Claire.

Again. Claire.

And whose fault was that?

I paid the driver when we got to the door and headed in. Claire could say what she wanted, but I was out, I looked amazing, and it was New Year's Eve. If she wanted to try to ruin it for me, she was going to have to do something extreme. Like burn the building down, or show my junior high pictures on a Jumbotron.

I brushed through the entry, dropping my wrap off at the coatroom and scanning the party. It was mostly groups of friends, a few tables of women. True to its name, the booze was already flowing and the prohibition themed drinks were being passed around like people were liquoring up before a raid.

A large man at the door stopped me as I went to step into the crowd.

"Ticket?"

Leave it to Claire. It didn't dawn on me we'd have to have a ticket. I'd seen her four days ago. I'd
paid
her four days ago. I couldn't help but wonder if this was a power play, if she'd oops-forgotten-air-quotes my ticket.

Make that tickets. Plural.

"I'm with Claire Christel's group. She has the tickets. I'm Sarah Gable."

The man picked up a clipboard from the stand behind him and flipped through. "Gable. Sarah. I have you down here as two tickets."

He glanced behind me as if I was hiding a date.

Geez. I wasn't going to take it from a doorman too.

"It looks like I'm here solo, doesn't it? Not that there's anything wrong with that or it has anything to do with the unreliableness of your gender. Maybe, before you start doing that look-around-innocently mocking thing, you should stop and wonder exactly what he did to manage to not be here on New Year's Eve, right?"

"Um. Sorry Ms. Gable. You're at Table Eight."

The seventh wheel at table eight for eight. Of course I was.

I made a beeline for the bar, planning to pick up a drink, and if I was lucky a date.

I hadn't even made it through the line when the goosebumps raced down my spine. Definitely a Wicked Witch alert.

"Sarah, we're so glad you made it." Claire clung to a huge man. He was easily six-three and could probably bench lift me. In a Volkswagen.

"Of course I made it. I have a ticket. We planned this in September."

Had she really thought I just wouldn't show up? Probably. Claire was extremely competitive. This was most likely one more way she wanted to win. I have a boyfriend. He's big and strong and good looking… and present.

Fine. Whatever.

I turned toward the very large man and smiled. "You must be Marcus. We've heard some great things about you. I'm so glad you could make it out for New Year's."

"Sarah." Marcus tried to offer his hand, but Claire wasn't letting go long enough for a casual handshake. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Why wouldn't I have?" I kept my voice sweet and my smile a tad bit confused.

"I… ah…" Marcus glanced at Claire, looking for some help. "I'd heard you might not be feeling well tonight."

"Just tonight?"

"Well…" Okay, so Marcus wasn't the quickest on his feet.

And Claire was letting him take all the heat for doing what she would have done anyway. Only crueler. She should just wear the Dalmatian fur coat and get it over with.

"So, where's the mystery man?"

There it was. Cutting to the chase. I was surprised she lasted that long.

"He's not here." I smiled, daring her to push. Daring her to paint me into the corner we both knew I was in. Daring her to step out on that branch and say,
Yes. I am that much of a bitch.

"Where is he?"

Okay, so I really shouldn't have been surprised.

"Claire, there's something I want to say to you, and I want you to listen very closely because if someone
has
said this to you before, you weren't listening. You're not a very nice person. Actually, you're a petty, mean-spirited person. I'm not sure why you feel the need to compete with everyone. But being on top all the time means you're making sure someone else is on the bottom. So, would it matter if I got dumped on the way over here? Or if he had already had plans for tonight and wanted to hang with his guys. Or if I'd lied because you made me feel bad?"

Claire looked at me as if I were speaking a different language. Maybe this was the first time anyone had made her see how she treated people and how it made them feel. Maybe I should have just said this to her months ago and everything would have been fine. She just needed to know she didn't need to win at everything to be well liked.

Maybe she just needed to hear that.

"What I'm saying, Claire, is life—friendships—aren't a competition. You don't need to
win
to be well-liked."

I felt better already. It wasn't like I was the only one she treated like this. It was going to be good for Becca and Angie too. Maybe I'd feel more comfortable being good friends with those two once Claire chilled out a bit.

"I knew it. There's no mystery guy. You lied. You're such a loser."

"Wow. Claire. I feel really bad for you." I glanced at Marcus, the poor man looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Having a guy—even the one you wanted—obviously couldn't fill up an unhappy person.

I stepped out of line, no longer caring about the drink and turned to find table eight—otherwise known as The Most Uncomfortable Seating Plan of the New Year—and walked directly into a man in a twenties broad-striped suit.

"Oh, excuse me." I glanced up, about to dart around him.

"No problem, doll face."

"John! What are you doing here?"

"Just now, I was listening to you tell that woman off. I've never seen you so feisty. You should do that more often. Now, I'm about to hand you this glass of champagne and ask you to dance."

Oh. Oh this was bad. So very bad. I was doomed. I was more than doomed. I was emotionally apocalyptic.

The first sign was that I couldn't get myself to stop smiling at him. The second was the rush of heat down my entire body just from standing this close to him. The third… Wow. Did he look good in gangster garb or what?

"Who are you?" Claire. Leave it to Claire to ruin a moment.

John hooked his arm over my shoulder and turned me back to face her.

"I'm John. Or you can just continue to call me the Mystery Man if it's easier to remember." He gave her one of his very kind, very soft smiles. If there was anyone who could win Claire over, it was him.

"So, what? Did she hire you or something?"

"Claire." Marcus had shaken her free and was giving her what could only be a stern look.

I think I liked him.

"I met Sarah just after Thanksgiving. She came into my shop. I bought her a coffee. And we've been seeing each other a couple times a week since." Wow. He was good at that not-lying-but-not-quite-telling-the-truth thing. "Now, if you'll excuse us. I'd hoped to get her on the dance floor before the dinner started."

He drew me away, his arm still warm across the back of my shoulders.

He took my drink as we passed table eight and set it down. Taking my hand, he led me out to the floor and then spun me out and back into his arms. I almost melted against him, but I had to remember, this wasn't real. I couldn't give myself away.

Instead, I winked up at him. "My hero."

"You know it, toots." John winked back, always one to be in on the conspiracy—I mean, joke. "A guy's gotta watch out for his dame."

"But, really, what are you doing here?"

"Did you really think I'd let you face the dragon alone? I knew what tonight meant and I hated the idea of you having to deal with her all night. I hate it even more now that I met her. What are you doing hanging out with that woman?"

"It's the Last Single Girl Syndrome."

"It's stupid."

I wanted to tell him I wasn't stupid, but before I could, he'd done some fancy footwork and had us moving around the dance floor like we owned it.

"And before you start lecturing me about girls and friends and that you're not stupid, I agree. With the last one at least. But that Claire woman has some issues. You're better off without her."

"I completely agree. But I'm glad you came and rescued me so I could just enjoy the night." I ducked under his arm as he did another fancy spin thing. "I think you'll like Becca and Angie a lot more. Especially Becca. She's really sweet."

"They need a new C. Maybe you could change your name to Cara and take on the leadership role."

"Or, maybe not."

John just smiled and—like every other time—it made me relax.

"So, back to the 'what are you doing here' part."

He pulled me a bit closer to evade another couple who obviously didn't have the floor skills he did.

"Sorry, mate." The guy winked at us. "You know what it's like, distracted by such a beautiful woman in your arms. Right, sugar?"

The girl just rolled her eyes and away they went.

"Ohhh. Do you think they were actors?"

"There are actors here?" John glanced around suspiciously. "They'll let anyone into these speakeasies nowadays. Next thing you know, coppers will be whispering passwords."

I snorted. John was way more fun than the girls. You had to know Claire was dressed for the night, but wouldn't be playing along.

"Anyway, I kept thinking you'd ask me to go. But when you said you didn't want to bring a fake boyfriend, I knew you weren't going to. I knew you thought you had to do this on your own. But—" He swung me wide around another corner of the dance floor. "How much more fun is this? Thus my very dapper outfit."

"You do look dapper."

"It was quite the adventure getting this. I had to order it online."

One more win for the internet.

"So, why didn't you?"

Why didn't I ask John to be my date? Maybe because I was a complete idiot and didn't realize till the last minute he was perfect for me and then it was too late to ask him casually and too scary to ask him for real?

Or…

"I didn't want to put you out. You've been dealing with my craziness for a month. What if you didn't want to go with me? You'd have said yes anyway because you're so nice."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like
not that nice
and spun me into another turn. "I would have come."

"You
did
come. I can't tell you how glad I am you're here." I tensed. Too much? Could he hear what I really meant?

"I'm glad too. I can't imagine you dealing with that all night."

"To be honest, I was pretty much done with it. I said my piece and if
winning
mattered that much to her, who cares? I was just going to ignore her and enjoy the night and never hang out with her again." The song slowed to an end and John spun me once more and ended us on a dip. "But, I have to say, having you here is so much more fun."

He lifted me back up and gave me another wink. "I know."

Sliding his hand into mine, we headed back to our table, catching the seats facing away from the DJ since we were the last ones there. Claire gave me a smug smile about that as well.

I hadn't realized how tense I was till John shifted his chair over and moved mine so I could lean against him to watch the game introductions behind us. The actors had apparently been there all night. Some of them were wait staff. Some were other guests. Some hadn't shown up yet. Everything was suspect.

The first murder happened during the salad course… directly behind Claire. The second one happened as they were clearing the main course… while she was in the bathroom. The third murder happened while she was whisper-arguing with Marcus about something.