The Other Side of Someday (6 page)

I nodded. I could sympathize with what she went through all too well. I didn’t love Will, so ending our marriage didn’t completely destroy me, but knowing he had been unfaithful wasn’t easy to overcome. I couldn’t help but wonder whether I was the problem. It took me a while to realize I wasn’t to blame. We just didn’t have the spark that would keep the flame going.

“So, Baylee,” Lacey said a short while later as we all took a small break after Darren performed a particularly amusing rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart”. “Have you had time to explore LA yet?”

“Not really,” I answered, taking a sip of some much needed water. My mouth was incredibly dry from consuming more glasses of wine than I could count. “I’ve only been here for two days.” A small grin crossed my face. “I’ve just been settling in, taking my dog on walks…” I trailed off, my cheeks flushing red with the memory of bumping into Sebby…literally.

“Hmm,” Marcel said. “Is there a reason you’re blushing right now? Did you already meet someone?”

Biting my lower lip, I nodded. “But it’s not like you think. It was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.”

“How do you mean?” Lacey asked as everyone leaned in closer to me.

“I gave him a bloody nose.”

“You what?!”

“My first morning here, I was taking my dog for a walk and was in desperate need of coffee. As I was walking Sport—”

“Your dog’s name is Sport?” Darren interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t name him. If I had, he’d have a good name like Max or something. You know. A dog name.”

“So, as you were walking Sport…?” Sophia urged me to continue.

“Right. So I was walking Sport in Palisades Park, enjoying my new surroundings, when he bolted away from me and I lost my grip on his leash. Before I could react, he ran toward another dog and started humping her, even though he’s fixed. As I was trying to pry Sport off the other dog, I bumped into her owner’s face pretty hard and gave him a bloody nose. God, it was so embarrassing.” I buried my face in my hands. “I had been in LA for less than twenty-four hours and I could already be charged with assault.”

“But…?” Marcel smirked, able to sense there was more to the story. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what else to tell them about Sebby. I wasn’t sure what our story was. Was I looking forward to running into him again tomorrow morning? Of course, but I wanted to keep that to myself.

“Nothing really. We had coffee together, then ran into each other again this morning. We have a plan to run into each other again tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hmm…,” Marcel said, taking a sip of his wine. “And you’re sure you don’t want to do more than just ‘run into’ him?”

“I’m not sure, but maybe just being friends is what I need right now. Hell, I’ve only been divorced a little over a month. I was in that relationship for twelve years. Maybe I just need to know what it’s like to be single again.”

“You can be single and still have fun,” Sophia reminded me.

“And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

D
URING
THE
NIGHT
,
SEVEN
little dwarfs had crawled into my skull, mining for diamonds or gold or whatever it was they did before calling it a day and singing “Heigh-Ho” all the way back to their little dwarf cottage. At least, thanks to all the wine I had consumed the previous evening, that’s what it felt like when the sun cruelly woke me up the following morning. My mouth was drier than the Mojave Desert in July, and it felt like I had only slept for minutes instead of hours.

Groggily opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was the clock on my nightstand. It was nearly nine. It took a minute for that to register in my brain. When it finally did, I bolted up, grabbing my head to steady the spinning room, then ran into the bathroom. In a great feat of multitasking, I brushed my teeth while trying to diminish the bags under my eyes with concealer. I spit out the toothpaste and wiped the residue from my mouth before pulling my matted hair into a messy bun, securing the few fly-aways with an elastic headband.

Within seconds, Sport and I were dashing through the lobby and out onto Ocean Avenue. The wind was blowing the palm trees around on that Friday morning, but that didn’t stop runners and cyclists from getting in their morning exercise. I had only seen winds like this during a storm, but there was barely a cloud to be seen, the sun shining brilliantly in the autumn sky.

“These are what we call Santa Anas,” the doorman said as I waited at the crosswalk, obviously noticing the bewilderment on my face. “They typically come around September or October. Makes it a great day for surfing.”
 

I turned toward him. He was tall and lean with tanned skin, and I estimated he was in his forties. Based on his appearance, I got the impression he spent most of his spare time on a surfboard. My assumption could have been wrong, but something about his dark brown hair that grew lighter at the ends, carefree demeanor, and enthusiastic smile reminded me of all those 1960s beach movies I grew up watching.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He held his hand out toward me. “I’m Jeffrey.”

“Baylee.” I smiled, shaking his hand.

“I know.” He winked, tipping his hat to me. “Enjoy your walk, Miss Morgan.”

I crossed over to Palisades Park, biting my lip to reel in the grin that was bursting to crawl across my face when I thought of my impending meeting with Sebby. I slowed my enthusiastic steps so as not to appear too anxious, although I wanted to run toward our unofficial meeting spot and not waste an instant of our time together.

Approaching the bench where I had assaulted Sebby just a few days ago, a small smile crossed my lips when I saw him sitting there, Gidget at his feet, with two coffees in hand.

“Hey,” I said, sitting beside him, trying to remain calm and collected when my senses, and libido, were on high alert. Much like our last two meetings, he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and cargo shorts, even in the chilly temperatures.

“Rough start to the day?” He held out a cup of coffee and I grabbed it, taking a much needed sip. There was nothing like that first slug of coffee in the morning, even more so after a night where you gave Jack Kerouac a run for his money with the amount of alcohol you consumed.

“What makes you say that?” I asked once the effects of the caffeine dulled my throbbing head.

He chuckled softly, a velvety smooth melody. It was as sweet as buttercream frosting. I had always been convinced you could tell a lot about a person by the way they laughed. Some were loud and obnoxious, as if the person wanted everyone to know he was amused. This person needed to be the constant center of attention. Some laughs were forced, quiet, and shaky. This was the type of person who was timid, unsure of whether or not it was socially acceptable to laugh. And then there were those who laughed as Sebby did — a combination of genuine amusement and happiness. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t obnoxious. It was perfect. There was no denying it. Sebby gave good laugh.

“Your voice is a little scratchy this morning.”
 

My mouth curved into a smile when I met his amused eyes. “Just had a late night. I met one of my neighbors yesterday and she invited me over to her condo for game night—”

“Game night?” he interrupted, narrowing his gaze at me.

“Yeah. Game night,” I repeated. “You know. You get together with friends and play board games. Surely a man as worldly as you would have heard of game night before.”

“I know what game night is, Dixie,” he replied. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“Nothing.” His confused expression softened and was instantly replaced with a coy smirk. His dimples popped, causing a warmth to settle in my stomach and limbs, despite the brisk air. Or it could have been the hot coffee, but I prefer to think it was Sebby’s smile that forced that reaction.

“So…,” I began after several silent moments passed.

“So…,” he repeated, eyeing me. He leaned back, relaxing into the park bench. I could feel his eyes studying me once more.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?” I demanded with a sly smile.

“You don’t want me looking at you?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean…” I took a deep breath. “You’re making me feel self-conscious. Do I have something in my teeth?” I showed him my teeth.

He peered at my mouth as if looking for a piece of broccoli I missed, then flashed his beautiful smile once more. “No. You’re good. You just intrigue me, Baylee. That’s all.”

“Oh, do I?” I tilted my head at him, wondering what brought forward such honesty.

Keeping his eyes glued to me, he nodded slowly. “Yes. From what I’ve learned about you in the few short minutes we’ve spent with each other this week, I’m pretty certain you’re unlike anyone else out here. When I look at you, I see some of myself when I first came out here. God, I was so excited. I felt like I had the world at my fingertips. Now, sometimes I feel as though I’ve lost that enthusiasm along the way, which shows in my work. So maybe hanging out with you will bring back that excitement. Call it research.”

“Research?” I raised my eyebrows. “So you’re using me as a test dummy?”

“No. As inspiration.”

He glanced down at our two dogs curled up at our feet, happy as clams to be outside and checking out the people walking by. I remained quiet, unsure of how to respond. Something about the way Sebby ended that sentence made me think he wasn’t quite done with what he wanted to say and was trying to compose his thoughts. Part of me hoped he was about to ask me out to dinner or something…like a real date. My first real date, since I wasn’t too sure you could count going to the movies with all your high school friends a date.

“You like games?” he suddenly asked.

“What?” I furrowed my brow.

“Game night. You like games?”

“I suppose…,” I dragged out.

“Then let’s play a little game of our own. Every morning, we’ll meet for coffee and I get to ask you one question — any question — and you have to answer honestly.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, you intrigue me. So what do you say, Dixie? Care to be my muse?”

Biting my lip to hide the grin that wanted to crawl across my face at the thought of being the muse for Mr. Sex On Two Legs, I cocked my head at him. “Sounds a bit one-sided, if you ask me. You get to peek into my head. What do I get out of it?”

“My company?” He smiled, running his hand through his wayward hair.

I scowled.

“And free coffee every morning?” His face lit up with hopefulness.

“Tit for tat, buddy. You ask me a question, I get to ask you one in return.”

He pulled back, rubbing his chin as he debated my proposition. “And why do you want that?”

“What can I say?” I shrugged. Leaning toward him, I narrowed my eyes. “
You
intrigue
me
.”

He closed the space between us and my lips parted slightly. I didn’t know what I expected him to do, but I no longer had any control over my body. This man, a complete stranger just a few days ago, had an inexplicable pull on me. Of course, as my luck would have it, that was the exact moment a seagull decided to perch on a nearby garbage bin, sending both our dogs into a frenzy. The chorus of barking was enough to make anyone think we had an army of dogs, instead of just the two.

“Sport, calm down, buddy,” I soothed, running my hand along his short coat.

“Either chase the damn bird or don’t, Gidget,” Sebby added. “Don’t just sit here and growl.”

When the seagull got the hint and moved on to a different garbage bin, our dogs calmed down, resuming their security detail.

“Well then,” Sebby said. “I suppose fair is fair. Each morning, I ask you a question, and you ask me one in return. Deal?” Raising his eyebrows, he held his hand out to me.

“Deal.” We shook on it. Leaning back on the bench, I took a sip of my coffee as the wind picked up. It was a crisp, cool morning, but sitting next to Sebby warmed me, as cliché and cheesy as that sounds. “So, what’s your first question?”

Placing a finger over his mouth, he turned to survey me, deep in thought. “Hmm. There are so many different ways I could play this. I could be boring and ask you your favorite color, whether you like pineapples on your pizza…”

I scrunched my nose in disgust.

“I take that as a no, so that’s off the table. And I’m sure all of those questions will give me one piece of the puzzle. Or I could delve deeper, but then I run the risk that our game will be over before it even starts.”

“And we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”

“Certainly not,” he replied. “I mean, I couldn’t do that to Gidget here.” He gestured to his dog. “She seems to have taken quite a liking to Sport.” He winked.

“So what approach are you taking?”

“An unplanned one.” Pinching his lips, he stared at me for several anxious moments before his face brightened. “Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?”

“That’s a random question,” I commented.

“Not really. There’s a lot you can tell about a person based on the answer to even some seemingly innocuous questions.”

Scrunching my nose, I wondered what the answer could possibly reveal about me. “Fine,” I exhaled. “I’ll answer your question.”

I paused to consider. I remembered going to the beach with my dad, watching the sunrise over the Carolina coast. There was always something so powerful about seeing the sun appear over the horizon, as if it brought hope for a new day. Until just a few days ago, I had never really experienced a breathtaking sunset. But as I witnessed my first one over the Pacific Ocean, that orange-red sun disappearing behind the horizon, it was symbolic of wiping the slate clean, which was what I wanted to do with my move out here.

“Both,” I said.

“That’s not an answer. You can’t choose both.”

“Why not?” I shot back. “I simply can’t choose which I prefer.”

“What if you were on death row, about to be executed, and you were given the choice of watching the sunrise or sunset one last time before being put to death. Which would you pick?”