Read Emma vs. The Tech Guy Online

Authors: Lia Fairchild

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor

Emma vs. The Tech Guy (15 page)

BOOK: Emma vs. The Tech Guy
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He stared at me while I read it, as smug as if he’d invented the Internet.

Why did he love to press my buttons so? I didn’t even realize I had buttons to push until Guy came along. Did he enjoy pissing me off? I was so worried about him snooping, discovering my secret. But what worried me most of all, was that maybe he was pushing those buttons because he knew I actually loved it.

 

Chapter 16

 

If I could freeze a moment in time and make it last as long as I wanted, it would be thirty minutes after I left the boardroom. I lay soaking in a steaming, oversized tub with jets positioned at my lower back. Normally I’d be rockin’ the eighties, but after having my mental energy slowly siphoned out of me, I needed something more soothing. Soft hits played in the background as I sipped my raspberry iced tea. I had two whole hours before having to meet Guy, Adam, and Sheila at the bar. She was the front desk clerk Adam had picked up when we checked in. Two hours of nothing, all to myself.

When I first arrived back at my room, I spent twenty minutes on the phone with Jayne. I was relieved that she and Bill had everything under control. Yet I’d somehow anticipated some type of crisis. Really, I wondered if that was exactly what I’d hoped for. Could I be that self-centered to think they couldn’t do it without me? I told myself it was just that I loved problem solving. We spent the rest of the time talking about Jayne’s love life. Apparently Hank saw a picture Jayne posted online of her and Mr. Humphries. Hank got jealous and sent her flowers, apologizing for his late-night booty call.

I decided it was all too much for me to handle or try to control. I couldn’t add another man into that mix by trying to set her up with Guy. There was no way Hank and Mr. Humphries could compete with him, but I didn’t want to add another set of armpits to Jayne’s recipe for disaster. She’d have to figure it out on her own. I was thankful I’d let myself off the matchmaking hook, but still left myself open to help Pop, if he’d let me.

I set my drink down, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. A short catnap would do the trick to refresh me for the night ahead.

When a splash startled me, I popped up to find my tea had fallen into the tub and a whole hour had passed. Shit! I had less than an hour to get ready. But after taking a few seconds to get my bearings, the whole dream I’d just had came flooding back.

You know how you have those dreams where it’s like everything that is happening in your life is stuffed into a blender, mixed up, and poured out all twisted up? Either that exactly described what happened, or there was a straitjacket somewhere with my name on it.

In this dream, I’d gone to meet Guy and Adam in the lobby. I arrived to find Guy waiting for me wearing the basketball jersey he’d worn when Jayne went crazy for him at the gym. His armpit hair was crazy long; it hung almost to his waist. I pretended not to notice and asked where Adam was. He told me Adam wasn’t coming because he and Sheila were going to get married. We had to get to the Elvis and Priscilla chapel in time to stop them.

By the time we arrived, they were at the altar with their backs to us. The minister towering over them was Hank. It was too late; the final music was already playing. As they slowly turned around, I saw that it was not Adam and Sheila, but Howard and Kelly. I ran to Howard and asked, “What’s going on?” in one of those low, slow-motion voices. Howard said that he and Kelly were in love and that he was moving out.

“You’ll be all right,” he said. Then he patted my head, and they strutted down the aisle. It was only then that I noticed the two people standing up for them were Mrs. Elwood and Mr. Humphries. Instead of rice, they began throwing Whoppers at Howard and Kelly. If that wasn’t bad enough, the two senior citizens started making out, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of tongue swapping. The room started spinning. Guy was at the altar then, smiling and singing the theme song to
The Love Boat
.

“No,” I cried. “It can’t be.”

Then Pop rode up on a horse, dressed as a cowboy and said, “What’s the trouble, little lady?”

I squinted up at him as the sun glared in my eye, even though we were inside. He tugged on the reins, causing the horse to take a step forward so his body blocked the sun for me.

“Pop, I can’t be alone. I just can’t do it.”

“Don’t be afraid, Emma Jean. Have a little faith in yourself.” Then he tipped his hat and rode off as Guy sang, “Set a course for adventure, your mind on a new romance.”

The only explanation I could think of when I woke up was that someone must have slipped a roofie in my iced tea. I was sure this was one of those dreams that would eventually fade into your subconscious. But just in case, I planned on drinking heavily that night.

I fished my cup out of the tub and toweled off. I’d brought one dressy outfit, knowing Adam would talk me into going out one of the nights. I wore a form-fitted, short-sleeve dress in colors of turquoise, silver, and black. The neckline was lower than I normally wear, but the dress was so cute I couldn’t resist. I hoped it wouldn’t draw too much attention. All I needed was the guys to make a big deal out of it. I decided to grab my cropped, suede jacket just in case.

Despite my lengthy nap, I was only a couple of minutes late arriving at the Voodoo Lounge. The place wasn’t packed yet, but it was loud, dark, and had an incredible view of the strip. A D.J. provided the music, and since there was no designated dance floor, people randomly danced in different areas. I also noticed an outdoor balcony, which seemed like its own little party scene.

I spotted Guy and Adam sitting at a low table near the bar, and they both stood like perfect gentlemen when they saw me.

“Dayamn!” Adam said a tad louder than my comfort zone enjoyed. He grabbed my hand and lifted it away from my body like I was wearing a ball gown. “Look at this woman, Guy! Doesn’t she look hot tonight?”

“Adam,” I said, wincing. A pair sitting at a nearby table noted our scene. I held my jacket with my other hand and cursed myself for not putting it on before I got there.

Guy grinned and nodded. Then, for a moment, he stared at me like it was the first time he’d ever seen me. When his eyes connected with mine, I quickly averted his gaze. He gave his head a quick shake and said, “I don’t think Emma likes compliments, but yes, she does.”

 “This girl knows I don’t hold back,” Adam said. He pulled out a chair for me to take a seat.

I sat down, noticing three drinks already on the table. “You both look great, too,” I said.

Adam had once again accomplished his
I just stepped off the fashion runway
look, sporting a designer black suit, cream-colored shirt, no tie. Sheila was in for a treat; Adam knew how to take care of a woman. His dates were like a day at the spa, filled with pampering and feeling good. Or so I’ve heard.

Guy looked surprisingly handsome as well, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why that was. He had on a decent pair of khaki pants with a short-sleeve, button-down shirt in a peach sort of color. Tough to tell under that lighting. It was probably his only other option after grease from my car ruined his other “nice” shirt. So, what was it that had him looking so … I didn’t know … sexy? Maybe it was the special Voodoo atmo.

“So what’s with the drinks?” I asked.

“They’re Irish Car Bombs,” Adam said. “Just a little something to get the night started.”

Sounded good to me, but we needed to remember why we were in Vegas. “All right, but don’t go crazy tonight. We still have that workshop before our flight tomorrow.” Playing the mother hen didn’t sit well with me, so I grabbed the shot and threw it back. Creamy, with a kick.

“Nice,” Guy said, clearly impressed.

Then he and Adam shot theirs back.

A flowing pink skirt sidled up next to our table, and I discovered a cute blonde wearing a friendly smile. “Hey,” she said, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear.

Adam hopped up and made introductions all around. Sheila wasn’t Adam’s typical type of girl, except for the general pretty face. She seemed more mature and together than most of the women he dated. Could have been because she had a real job. Many of his ladies were career students, “finding themselves,” or in between auditions.

“Y’all have a great night, now,” Adam said. He slipped his arm around Sheila’s waist.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Guy asked.

“I thought we were having drinks,” I added.

Just then a server set down two more drinks in front of Guy and me.

“Those are for you two,” Adam said.

I wondered if I imagined the sly smile Adam revealed for a split second. I tightened my mouth and narrowed my eyebrows at him before he turned to look at Sheila.

“I’m not allowed to eat or gamble here in our hotel,” Sheila said. “It’s against company policy.” She shrugged and fixed a glance on Adam.

“Sheila and I are going to stroll down the strip for a while, maybe we can hook up with you two somewhere later.”

“All right, man. Have a good one,” Guy said.

“Nice meeting you, Sheila,” I said.

Guy and I stared at each other, scanned the room, then stared at each other again. It was like we were on an awkward blind date. I figured I’d better let him off the hook—suggest we have a drink, and then he could go off and do whatever it was that he liked to do. I was a bit disappointed that I’d gotten all dressed up only to spend another night alone in the café. Especially now that my new buddy, Denny, was gone.

“So,” I started to say. Then I noticed Guy staring into the crowd. He had that same look on his face that he’d had in the lobby when we arrived. “What’s wrong?”

He stalled a beat. “Nothing.” He shook his head, bouncing his attention (and his wavy hair) back in my direction. “I could have sworn … that I saw someone I knew.”

“Really, who?”

“Nobody important. Just somebody I would definitely
not
want to see right now. So, what were you saying?”

“Is it one of those ‘she broke my heart’ type stories?”

“Let’s not even go there, okay? You were saying?”

“Uh ….” I just couldn’t waste that dress. One drink wouldn’t hurt and these were already paid for. “Guess these are margaritas, huh?”

“Guess so.” He lifted his glass. “We might as well drink them.”

I lifted mine, too. “Why not?”

We drank and talked about the workshops and brainstormed training sessions for the rest of the crew. I was content to keep the conversation on a safe topic, but then Guy asked me about Pop. It wasn’t just that the shot had settled in and was now being washed down by a margarita. I began to loosen up, and I wanted to talk about him. Something inside me wanted to tell him about Pop. And I didn’t stop there. I even told him about my mother’s death. He reached out and touched my hand as I spoke, and I didn’t move it away. When the conversation turned to Howard, I got him talking about his family instead. His life seemed very different from mine. I understood how he was so relaxed and happy all the time. He only had good things to say about the people in his life. I liked that he saw the good in everyone.

When our glasses were empty we both looked solemn. Like our excuse had drained away along with the tequila. That stinking liquor that had me feeling guilty as I watched the disappointment linger on Guy’s face. He knew that was the end of our night.

“Want to order us a couple more drinks while I go to the little girls’ room?” I had no idea where that just came from.

That seemed to snap him out of his funk. He grinned and sat up straight. “What would you like?”

“How about a beer? You pick.” I took a gamble that all men knew beer, right?

When I returned from the bathroom—this time successfully navigating the seat cover in place—I stopped to look at the bar area. I could so imagine Howard, back behind the polished wood bar, facing the eager crowd and doing his thing. My stomach churned for a moment as I wondered if I’d been supportive enough about his dream. He’d obviously thought Kelly was supportive. What was I so damned worried about, anyway? Everything is not always about me. If I wasn’t feeling a comfy buzz I probably would have been pissed at myself.

When I turned away from the bar to head back, I saw a woman standing at our table talking to Guy. She may have been slightly taller than me, with long, blonde hair and a pretty huge rack. A crapload of bracelets hung from one wrist. Was that Guy’s type? Whoever she was, he wasn’t happy to see her. Twice I’d seen Guy’s normal jovial expression change to somber. Now that expression looked like Howdy Freakin’ Doody.

I decided to let it play out a bit before interrupting. I hung a right and made my way closer to them with Guy’s back to me. A perfectly placed podium served as an inconspicuous eavesdropping spot. Just so I didn’t look like a complete loser, I took out my phone and pretended to be checking something.

Guy stood instead of offering her a seat. It was tough to make out every word, but his voice sounded different. It was edgy and sad, and that didn’t sit well with me. Yeah, he sometimes bugged the crap out of me, but for some reason I felt the anger bubble inside of me the longer I stood there. She said something about being in Vegas for a bachelorette party for a friend. Then Guy asked her about someone named Nathan. I leaned forward, watching her expression and listening to her reply.

“We’re not together,” she said, then inventoried her tacky bracelets. “He left me. Karma’s a bitch isn’t it?”

That was my cue. I came up behind Guy and said, “Maybe it takes one to know one.”

Her mouth flew open and Guy’s head snapped to the side. I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind. I eyed Busty Brenda, who was still mortified, trying to pull the words from the pit of her stomach. Then I whispered in Guy’s ear, “Let’s dance.”

He stood and turned to face me, unveiling his contentment with a grin. I didn’t fight it and gave him one right back. Then I took his hand and led him to an open spot by the patio door where others were dancing.

“Take care, Dana,” he said as I pulled him away.

Thankfully the song playing was slow, or my dramatic moment might have backfired in my face. I wasn’t even sure why I’d done it. Guy was the type of person who always wanted to make others happy, and it seemed like bullshit that someone had brought him to such a low point.

BOOK: Emma vs. The Tech Guy
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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