Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (13 page)

“Samantha?!  What does she have to do with any of this?”

“I know all about Samantha.  You don’t have to hide it.”

“Hide what?!”

“The fact that you’ve slept with half of the girls in this complex.”

Peter laughed in disbelief.  “You must have an awfully low opinion of me.”

“I already told you I’d reserve judgment on that.”

“Why doesn’t it feel that way?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?  Sharing a morning coffee with you?”

“Well aren’t I a lucky guy?”  Peter’s sarcasm was thick.

“Look, if you want to set the record straight about anything, go right ahead.”

Peter picked up the remote again and turned the television off completely.  “Fine!” he said.  “First off, I did not sleep with Samantha!  Is that what people around here really think?”

“It’s what Lauren thinks…”

“Of course it is.”

Amanda looked down at the coffee mug still in her hands, feeling somewhat foolish.  “I’m sorry.”

“I took Sam out to dinner a few times.  That was it.  I would have asked her out again if she hadn’t started seeing that deputy D.A.  I guess I just wasn’t good enough for her.  Go ahead and ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“That’s all right.”

“No wonder I’m such an outcast in this complex, if that’s what people think of me around here.”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just move out?”

“Are you kidding me?  Why should I?  I didn’t do anything wrong!  Why should I have to tuck my tail between my legs and scurry off, just because your roommate doesn’t like me?”

“You did break her heart.”

“So you think I should move out?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“It doesn’t matter to me.  I just think it’s crazy that you two hate each other so much yet live right next door.”

“I don’t hate Lauren.  That’s not what this is about.”

“No?  Then what is it about?”

“It’s about the fact that I didn’t want to marry her and have kids and move to a house in the suburbs.  Just because we slept together on one drunken occasion doesn’t mean I signed some sort of contract.  This is the 21st century, last time I checked.”

“But don’t you feel bad at least on some level?  She obviously cared a great deal about you.”

“That was her mistake.”  Peter turned the television back on, signaling the end of the conversation.

Amanda knew that she’d overstepped her bounds.  She had no right to come into his apartment and accuse him of crimes of the heart.  In truth, it wasn’t her business.  Alienating him like this didn’t help her own cause either.  Why would he ever help her track down Grant Hutchinson if all she did was condemn his life choices?  Amanda began feeling a little bit guilty.  “I’m sorry,” she said to him.  “I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“I’m not as heartless as you seem to think I am,” said Peter.  “Of course I feel bad about the way things worked out with Lauren.  I didn’t want to hurt her, but you have to understand, I was in a no-win situation.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true.  There was no dissuading her.  At least the way things worked out, I shattered that unrealistic fantasy she was carrying around.  It got me out of her system.  Look at her now.  Lauren is far better off with Darren than she would have been with me.”

“Well, I probably can’t argue with you there…”

“Hey, thanks a lot!”  Peter smiled.

“How did it happen, though, with you two?  Can you tell me?”

“What did she say?”

“Just that you had a relationship, that’s all.”

Peter scoffed.  “That was not a relationship!”

“So?  What was it then?”

“We had a big Halloween party in the courtyard.  Halloween is kind of a big deal around here.  West Hollywood goes off.  You’ll see if you’re still around next year.”

“Uh, huh…”  Amanda eagerly awaited more.

“The party was great; you should have seen this place.  The courtyard was packed.  I was a pirate.  Jack Sparrow.  Lauren was a sexy nurse.”  Peter laughed.  “She looked pretty good, actually.”

“Of course she did.”

“Yeah, I guess that was part of the problem.  Anyway, a group of us went over to the parade, they have a big parade, and she pretty much stuck by my side all night.  I didn’t mind, I’ll admit it…”

“So you ended up back here at some point?”

“Yup.”

Amanda thought she had a fairly clear view of the situation at this point.  She couldn’t say that she particularly blamed Peter for the way things had gone.  She didn’t blame Lauren either.  Sometimes these things happened.  Attraction wasn’t always exactly mutual.  It was unfortunate, but that didn’t mean Peter and Amanda couldn’t be allies on some level.  Maybe she could help rehabilitate his reputation in the complex.  And in return?  There was still that question of tracking down her elusive Bachelor Number Five…

Chapter Sixteen

Amanda was a little bit shocked when Peter suggested that she come along with him to the clubs that night.  Of course she’d secretly hoped that he might invite her, though she never expected it.  He’d been so nonchalant about it, too, as though it were no big deal.  “Some friends and I are going out again tonight if you want to come,” he’d said.  Amanda was left pretending to think about it before ultimately saying yes.

After her first Saturday lunch shift she was a little exhausted, but Amanda had some time to rest before the big night out.  She got out of the shower and dried herself off before moving into her bedroom and checking the time.  It was only six o’clock; a full four hours before she was due to meet up with Peter and his friends.  To Amanda, going out at that time seemed like a late start, but Peter must have known what he was up to.  Amanda pulled a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt from her dresser and laid them on her bed before going back into the bathroom to comb and dry her hair.  When her hair was done she put on her clothes and then opened her closet.  She already knew what she would find; a few summer dresses, a winter jacket that she’d never need in LA, and an assortment of mostly casual shoes.  There was one black dress that she’d worn to a funeral, but with a hemline below the knees it seemed entirely too formal.  What did one even wear to a nightclub, anyway?  In Hollywood?  Whatever it was, she certainly didn’t own it.  Pictures she’d seen in magazines of such places always showed sexy, glamorous women in short skirts and skin-tight tops or revealing blouses.  These women wore stiletto heels or knee-high black leather boots; footwear that hadn’t yet made its way to Quincy, Iowa.  Girls didn’t wear this kind of stuff to Rusty’s Road House.  They’d be laughed out of the place if they tried.  As Amanda flipped through her sun dresses she felt a rising sense of panic.  She could rush out and try to find an open store somewhere, but where would she go and what would she even buy?  The task seemed daunting.  She could try to borrow something from Lauren, but how would she explain that?  Lauren would demand to know what the clothes were for.  Besides, she probably didn’t have anything revealing enough for the nightclub scene anyway.  That wasn’t her style, despite the “sexy nurse” costume she’d worn on Halloween.  No, Amanda was left with only one choice.  She had to pick something from her paltry, pathetic wardrobe and make the best of it.  Perhaps her status as a newly arrived, small-town hick would give her a bit of a pass.  Either way it was going to be hard to pull this off.  Confidence was the key, whether she actually felt it or not.  Whatever Amanda wore, she would have to own it completely.  The key to fitting in was pretending you fit in, no matter what.  At least she hoped so.

Opening a dresser drawer, Amanda flipped through a stack of T-shirts. 
Iowa Women’s Music Festival
read one, with a silhouette of a woman singing into a microphone. 
Rusty’s Road House
, read another.  That would be ironic, she thought.  At least it might be a conversation starter.  Not that she wanted to talk about that place so much, or Quincy at all for that matter.  She pushed the drawer closed.  This whole idea of going out with Peter and his friends was starting to seem like a bad one.  What if she did run into Grant?  She would never get up the nerve to talk to him dressed in jeans and a Rusty’s Road House shirt.  Not when he’d be surrounded by beautiful women in mini-skirts and sexy blouses showing off their fake boobs.  The whole prospect of trying to compete with these nightclub women was daunting.  She considered telling Peter that she’d changed her mind.  After a long, hard day at work, she simply wasn’t up for it after all.  That was certainly one solution…

Amanda was in the kitchen cooking up some pasta when Lauren walked in, still wearing her ASU sweatshirt.  “Hey, how did it go at the game?” Amanda asked.

“We lost.”  Lauren seemed slightly dejected.

“I’m sorry.”

“Darren was happy.”

“What was the score?”

“I don’t know.  I stopped paying attention.  It was too depressing.”

“There’s always next year, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”  Lauren continued on into her room while Amanda dumped her pasta into a strainer in the sink.

It was quarter to ten as Amanda sat on the couch with a magazine.  She tried to appear calm while she anxiously waited for Lauren to leave.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?  It’s only right up the street at the El Capitan,” Lauren said.

“No, thanks.  I had a big day.  I’d rather just relax,” Amanda answered.

“Suit yourself.”  Lauren took one last look at herself in the living-room mirror before grabbing her keys and purse and heading for the door.  “Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t,” Amanda answered.  When Lauren was gone, Amanda stayed where she was, quietly flipping the pages of her magazine for another sixty seconds.  When she felt fairly sure that her roommate hadn’t forgotten anything, Amanda stood from the couch and eased her way to the window.  Peeking outside, she saw Lauren and Darren meeting up with Markus in the courtyard before moving down the path toward the street.  When the coast was clear, Amanda darted back into her room.  She opened her closet and pulled out the black dress.  It was the best she could do.  She tore off her clothes and pulled on the dress.  Next she ducked into the bathroom to put on her makeup, applying foundation and a light rouge, followed by mascara, dark eye shadow and finally an earthy red lipstick.  Makeup was never her strong suit, but this too would have to suffice.  Her only pair of dress shoes was shiny and black, with a strap around the back and a small heel.  She slid them on and was ready.  Amanda picked up her small black purse and then walked into the living room, looking herself over in the mirror.  She looked like she was dressed for a funeral, but with too much makeup.  It was all in the attitude, right?  She tried once again to tell herself that.  Amanda eyed the time on her phone.  It was a few minutes past the hour.  Should she make him wait, to build some suspense?  There didn’t seem to be much point.  It wasn’t a date.  Amanda decided that she’d might as well just head over.

When she knocked on his door, Amanda hoped that nobody else in the complex was watching.  She didn’t want the word to get around.  No doubt people would draw the wrong conclusions.  After sixty seconds, she pounded again a little bit harder.  This time the door swung open to reveal Peter, standing before her with only a dark blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Hey, sorry, I’m not quite ready but come on in!” he said.

“I can wait next door,” Amanda blushed as she tried unsuccessfully to avoid looking at his muscular bare chest.  He certainly was in shape.

“Seriously, it will only take a minute.  I’m a fast dresser.”  Peter moved out of the way and Amanda slid on past and into the apartment, away from the prying eyes of their neighbors.  Was this why Lauren fell for him?  Because he always seemed to answer the door in tight biking shorts or towels?  If so, Amanda wasn’t about to follow her example.

“I’ll just sit here on the couch.”

“Make yourself at home.  There’s beer and wine in the fridge.  Liquor is in the cabinet up above.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”  Amanda took a seat and crossed her legs, placing her hands atop one knee.

Peter ducked into his bedroom but kept the door open a crack.  “How was work this afternoon?” he shouted out.

“Fine.”

“You never did tell me what you do.”

“I’m a waitress.”  Amanda decided that she might as well admit it.  Maybe she didn’t work in finance, tripping around the globe like Peter did, but she was proud of her job nonetheless.  She was supporting herself; working hard and making it all on her own.

“Any big tippers?”  Peter didn’t miss a beat.  Apparently what she did for a living was not a big concern.

“I’m just happy to be getting tips at all.  I only finished training yesterday.”

“Congratulations.  I guess we have something to celebrate tonight.”

“It seems like you do a lot of celebrating around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Going out all the time.”

“Ah.  Well, it’s kind of what there is to do around here.”