Love.com (11 page)

T
he spark of hope Ian was all that she elevated him to be flared into a blazing inferno by the time she arrived back at work. She was grinning ear to ear by the time she got back to her office, pleased with her lunchtime mission. 

The discovery
that Stu and Tabitha were having an affair was something she would keep under her hat. Stu was married. She felt sorry for his wife, Marcy. She met her at company parties over the years. They had three kids too. What was Stu thinking? Why were all men such total jerks?

Her eyes drifted to Ian’s office
. He was diligently at work, on the phone; smiling and oblivious to her inspection. He redeemed himself in her eyes without even knowing it. She was glad she shelled out the fifty bucks. He was worth it, she told herself.

~
~ ~

Emily met Bachelor #2 a week later. He was meeting her at a café for coffee. She was sure this was the one to make her forget about Ian
once and for all.

Charles was
a real estate broker. He was married before. He had two children. He was five foot-ten and claimed to work out daily. He had an honest face, even if she thought his ears looked rather pointy in the photo.

Emily entered the café
. She looked around for a guy fitting Charles’ description. That’s when she heard the voice, a bit lower, and to her right. She was taken aback to see Charles was more like five foot-five. His ears were very prominent, and quite pointy. He looked like an elf. She tried not to giggle as he extended his tiny hand to her.

“You must be Emily,”
Charles said with a lisp. He had a dopey smile that was endearing and reminded her of Christmas’s long past. “You can call me Charlie. Let’s talk.”

While he certainly wasn’t the man of her dreams, Emily enjoyed her conversation with Charlie. He was very recently divorced. It was final only a month before. He was doing what all divorced men were supposed to do. She smiled reassuringly, thinking his voice was a bit more whiny than masculine.

Charlie addressed his faux pas in his bio with his height apologetically. “I’m too short for you, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Emily hedged, realizing it was very much an issue unless she was Mrs. Claus. How did she say it without offending him?

Charlie sipped his espresso. He looked bleak to know what she couldn’t bring herself to say. “It is an issue. You don’t have to say it. This is my third date on here. It’s been a disaster. Maybe I should be honest about how tall I am?”

“It wouldn’t hurt
to be more truthful,” Emily said tactfully and shrugged. “You didn’t make any comment about me. I think we both know that isn’t my picture on there. Now you’re just being nice, Charlie.”

Charlie grinned
, looking more elf-like by the minute. “I like you better than the picture, Emily. It takes the pressure off me. I can relax.”

“So tell me more about yourself?” Emily spent an enjoyable hour hearing about Charlie, what he wanted now that his marriage was over. She had no illusions he was the man of her dreams, but the date was far more pleasant than her first. She felt
encouraged by the knowledge there were some nice guys left in the world, even if they drove a sleigh and played with other elves. She promised to keep in touch with Charlie. She left the café feeling better about herself.

Emily wasn’t to be deterred. Two dates hardly meant her search for the perfect man was over.
This was just practice for the real thing
, she thought. Yes, she was hardly ready to throw in the towel.

She sent a determined email to Bachelor #3 when she arrived home. They were going to meet at his boat docked at the marina. He was having lunch prepared for them, he said. His name was Greyson, a stuffy name
for sure, but judging from his bio, he was laid back, a free-spirit, and enjoyed the simpler things in life.

~
~ ~

“Ok, out with it
!” Joan snapped as they sat in the sauna after their work out. “Who is he? You have that shit-ass dorky look on your face again. I know it’s over a guy. Tell me everything! Did you meet him on the computer?”

Emily realized her happiness over discovering Ian wasn’t the
philandering goat she thought him to be must be oozing out of her newly-purged pores. Joan was on the scent; clearly not willing to let her change in attitude pass. “Ok, I met a guy. Leave it at that.”

“Oh no
, you don’t! I want details, Em!”

Emily closed her eyes, her euphoria evident
in the way her face glowed at the mention of Ian. “He’s absolutely perfect, Joan.”

“Ok, now I know you
must have gotten laid,” Joan said in exasperation. “Orgasms have a habit of making us retarded when we haven’t had them in a while. No man is ever perfect, Em.”

“This one is,” Emily confided and sighed
deeply. “I never felt this way about anyone, Joan. I don’t understand it myself. I don’t even know him that well, but I feel we’re connected somehow. We haven’t had sex yet.”

Joan rolled her eyes. “So you didn’t get laid? That sucks.”

Emily looked down at her bottled water. “No, it hasn’t gotten that far yet.”

“How far has it gotten?”

“Well, we only really just met.” Emily realized she was starting to disclose how absurd the whole infatuation with Ian was. “We’re taking it slow.”

“Well I’m happy you met someone, even if you aren’t getting laid,” Joan said with a hearty chuckle. “Sex isn’t everything, you know? John was horrible in bed until I trained him properly.”

Emily nearly choked on her mouthful of water. Joan never told her that her sex life with her husband was awkward in the beginning.

“It’s true,” Joan
disclosed under her breath. “I don’t think John ever heard of foreplay before we got together. That’s not the case now. I have to tell him to get busy or I’m going to sleep.”

“What made you realize John was the one?” Emily regarded her friend with a hopeful expression.

“His bank account helped,” Joan reflected with a sigh. Emily gave an exasperated noise at this. “You want to know what it was that made me realize I was in love with John, do you?”

“What was it?”

“Every time I saw him, I felt it, like these butterflies in my stomach,” her friend said with a reminiscent expression. “I thought it was gas at first, but it wasn’t. I just knew he was the one.”

Emily felt relieved her friend described the way she was feeling about Ian at that moment. It made her feel better to know her feelings were real for once, even if they were misguided and one-sided. She was in love. It scared and startled her to know a crush turned into something more. What did she even know about Ian? She couldn’t possibly love a man she didn’t know?

Or could she? It appeared her heart knew what it needed to know already, accepting all of the unknown aspects of the man up front. That dangerous thought made her stiffen, knowing it wasn’t right. Even in her own bat-shit crazy mind, she couldn’t justify feeling the way she did for Ian Sawyer. The pain of this unrequited love gave her more anguish than anything else.

“Take your time, Em,” her friend
offered, looking at her with a knowing smile. “Let the guy woo you.”

“Woo me, huh?
What does that consist of? Sounds complicated, if you ask me.”

“Yeah
, it is. Just let him wine you and dine you for awhile. Keep it simple,” her friend said with a disgusted sigh. “Let him buy you flowers for no other reason than he just wants you to know he’s thinking about you. Make him worry you’ll disappear at any moment. Works like a charm.”

Emily looked
intrigued, latching onto only part of her words. “Flowers, huh? That’s the ticket?”

“Oh yeah, if a guy sends you flowers
; it’s a definite sign he’s interested, willing to do anything to get into your pants. Men don’t like to waste their money on that shit, trust me. John said it’s the biggest waste of money next to greeting cards. He does it for me anyway. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a gesture that tells a woman she’s special to a man, not just some bimbo he’s bending over. The guy knows it’s not the flowers we want, but what they represent to us.”

“
I’ll take your advice,” Emily said and her eyes lit up with an idea. “Wooing sounds like exactly what I need right now.”

“Then we
can concentrate on getting you laid,” Joan promised and chuckled at her disgusted expression. “Just take it slow, Em. Don’t over-like the guy right off. It scares them away.”

“Over-like? I don’t get it.” Emily looked guilty
at that moment. She definitely over-liked Ian, and did it overtime.

“Don’t ever let
this guy in on how you really feel until he catches up to you, Em. Guys are terrified of that shit. They feel too pressured. It’ll kill it every time if you let on. I know we rush ahead, but you have to hold back.”

Emily said nothing, knowing she already committed that gross error
a hundred times over in her own mind. She definitely over-liked Ian Sawyer to the point of it being ridiculous. How could she ever stop and wait for him to catch up? She was a million miles ahead of him now.

The fact he gave her no indication he even saw her as a
desirable woman reminded her she had much to do to convince him otherwise. Somehow she had to get Ian interested in her, make him see her as more than he did at that moment.

She left the gym and headed home, feeling
less enthusiastic. Once there, she decided to avoid checking her profile page on Love.com, too depressed over Joan’s words to allow the emails to comfort her flagging spirits.

Emily soaked in her think tank until she turned into a prune, dwelling on her over-liking Ian Sawyer. Was she going crazy? She thought of this practical stranger more than her dead husband, and knew it was wrong, even unfair to Eddie, who no longer required her consideration.

She leaned forward, reminded by what Joan said in the sauna. It was pathetic what she was considering; diabolical even in its manipulation. She was better than that—and yet—she wanted to be seen. She wanted Ian to stand up and take notice, even look again, as if he’d just seen her for the first time.

Emily wasted no time second-guessing her plan. She got out of the tub and went to the computer. Cringing in disbelief at what she was doing, she concluded her business and went to bed, her last waking thought of Ian.

Emily appeared as stunned as her coworkers when the roses arrived, delivered at lunchtime when everyone was sure to see them. They were perched on her desk with an elaborate lavender bow around the vase. Every female eye seemed glued to them. What was it about getting flowers delivered to you at work that brought out the envy in most women?

The covetous looks were ill-disguised and made her feel better for having them sent to her
now
. One hundred dollars didn’t buy much
, Emily thought with a smirk, eyeing the vase of flowers with a shake of her head. She could have bought ten rose bushes for what the bouquet cost her.

The roses were pink and white hybrids with a floral mix
blended in. They were delightful. They filled up her office with their aromatic odor. She could see the roses were the talk of the office, everyone asking who sent them to Emily. They appeared curious and bemused as the day wore on. Good. She wanted them all to wonder. She glanced over and saw Ian looking at her bouquet with a strange look on his face.

To say he was stunned she received flowers from an admirer was evident. He seemed just as surprised as everyone else. She reviled in what she imagined he was thinking, boosted considerably thinking it might bother him, just a little.

After a few minutes, Ian rose and approached her office, smiling as he took in the elaborate bouquet. “Nice flowers, Emily.”

“Thanks
.” She smiled in what she hoped was pure delight. “They are nice, aren’t they?”

“What did you have to do to get them? Come on, you can tell me.
Did you put out or what?” The impertinent, rude question took Emily off balance.

She glared at his insinuation. “Why would I have to
put out to get flowers? Is it so hard to believe a guy does it ‘just because’ and not for sex?”

“I’ve gone that route before
.” Ian rolled his eyes with a sarcastic laugh. “Didn’t work out for me too well, I recall.”

“Maybe you sent them to the wrong girl,” Emily observed, her eyes meeting his
deliberately over the vase of flowers in question.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right
about that,” Ian allowed, looking uncertain for the first time since she met him. He mumbled something about having work to do and left.

Emily’s victory was such she wanted to shout to the roof tops. Ian definitely noticed her today, even regarded her with real interest, as if trying to gauge what another man might have
seen in her to make such an elaborate gesture.

Her soaring feelings lasted throughout the day. Everyone wanted to know who sent the flowers, whispering and talking about it.
Emily eyed Janice sitting outside Evan’s office. She was the worst gossip in the office, sure to spread whatever Emily told her to ever corner of the workplace.