Not My Type (20 page)

“All right,” she said. “I know you have to give notice, so we’ll expect you to start in two weeks.”

“No,” I said. “I can start tomorrow.” Austin would be glad to get the hours, and I could easily tweak the schedule to replace myself. I’d help Austin find an assistant for himself if he needed me to, but for all intents and purposes . . . I was free!

“Thank you so much, Ellie! You will
not
be sorry. I’m going to make you so glad you did this!”

“You’d better.” She sighed.

Even that less-than-stellar “welcome to the team” couldn’t tank my mood. I ended the call, stared at Austin, who had heard enough to figure out what had happened, and grinned.

“Congratulations!” I shouted. “You’re promoted!”

He gave me a good-natured fist bump and waved his arm to encompass all of Handy’s. “I can’t believe it’s finally mine,” he said with an eye roll.

“I’d tell you that you deserve it, but you’re too nice a guy for that. So I’ll just say good luck.”

“You too. I like your concert reviews. I’m sure your other writing will be great too.”

“Thanks, Austin.” I glanced up at the clock, noting that we had only a half hour before our part-timer came in to finish out the evening shift with him. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go write a letter to Mr. Handy.”

“Do it,” he said. “I can handle it out here.” His smile acknowledged the temporary lull in customers.

I sat down at my desk and texted Courtney.
The mag’s hiring me full time!!!!! Ellie just called!

Fewer than two sentences into my resignation letter, I got a text back.
Whoo hoo! I’ll pick you up at 7:30 to celebrate!

I drafted the rest of the letter quickly but made sure the thanks to my soon-to-be-ex-boss was heartfelt. It might not have been my dream job, but Mr. Handy had given me my first opportunity to begin digging myself out of debt. It wasn’t his fault I had grown to hate making sandwiches. And he was easy to work for, always staying out of my way.

As soon as I scrawled my signature, I stuffed the letter into an envelope and stuck it up near the register for the postman to pick up, knowing it would make my exit final. But it didn’t make me nervous. I had gotten used to the idea of making my own luck over the last few weeks, and I felt really, really sure that I had made the right move. When I walked out to my car, I didn’t look back.

I wouldn’t be looking back anymore.

* * *

At seven-thirty on the dot, I yanked the door open and smiled but faltered when instead of finding Courtney on my doorstep, I found Tanner.

“Hi,” I said because nothing else came to mind.

“Congratulations. Courtney told me you’re going to be full time now.”

“True story,” I said, leaning slightly to the left to see if Courtney was waiting in the car.

“She’s at my parents’ house,” he said. “She’s trying to put a little thing together for you, and she wasn’t done yet, so I told her I’d come get you.”

“All right,” I said. “Come in for a minute, and I’ll go grab my sweater.”

He stepped in and shut the door behind him. I panicked for a split second, trying to figure out what to do with him. Did I just leave him standing there? Should I—

“Who’s this?” Ginger asked, strolling out from the living room.

“This is Tanner,” I said. “Courtney’s brother.”

“Where’s Courtney?” she asked.

“Never mind,” I said. “Can you go grab my black cardigan off my bed?” There was no way I was leaving her alone with Tanner. She’d either practice her flirting or grill him with questions, and I didn’t like either scenario.

“Fetch your own sweater,” she said, not even looking at me. “I’m going to talk to Tanner.”

“No, you’re not,” my mom said, coming out of the living room as well. “Go get Pepper’s sweater.”

Ginger grumbled but turned and stomped up the stairs, each muffled thud of her bare feet on the carpeted steps intended to communicate her displeasure. Hmm. Not very intimidating.

“You’re Tanner?” my mom asked, and her voice gave no indication as to whether that was a good or bad thing. Tanner might not realize it, but Mama Bear had just shown up. I’d have to muzzle her for Tanner’s safety.

“Yes,” he said, holding his hand out for a handshake. She took it but still didn’t smile.

“Tanner came to pick me up to celebrate my promotion,” I said, sounding chipper to indicate that it was okay for him to be here.

She eyed me before relaxing enough to crack a smile. A very small smile. I hoped Tanner didn’t blink, or he would have missed it.

“Grant!” she called to my dad, who was still in the living room. “Tanner’s here!”

I tried not to wince. Tanner was going to infer that he was a major topic of conversation around here, what with all the knowing glances flying around. I didn’t want Tanner to take it the wrong way. I mean, I wanted him to realize everyone knew his name because he didn’t hire me for the
Bee
, not because I liked him or something.

Sorry
, I mouthed to him. He smiled and gave me a slight nod, his eyes twinkling. My dad stepped into view and shot me a glance of concern. “
Tanner
is here?” he asked, although there was clearly a stranger of male persuasion standing right in front of him.

“Yes, Dad. This is Tanner.” They shook hands, my dad’s face not softening any more than my mom’s had. “He came to pick me up to celebrate my promotion.”

My dad’s eyebrow shot up. “That’s nice of you. It’s great to see Pepper’s talent recognized.”

It was a not-so-veiled criticism, and I loved him for it, but when I heard Tanner choke down a laugh, I decided enough was enough. “Be nice to him, please. He was right not to hire me and has helped me a lot since then.”

My mom and dad exchanged a look, and my mom gave my dad a slight nod. Years of experience helped me interpret the entire conversation that passed between them in those two seconds. My mom said, “Do we give this guy a chance?” and my dad said, “I will if you will,” and my mom said, “Fine. I’ll be nice because Pepper asked us to.”

What Tanner heard was my mom asking him if he’d like to come in for some ice cream, but I put a hand on Tanner’s arm to keep him in place. “Tanner’s only here because Courtney asked him to come and get me. We better get going.”

He placed his hand over mine and said, “Actually, she’d probably like a little more time to get things ready. I’d love some ice cream.” I tried to tug my hand back, but he kept his grip. Rather than make a scene, I left it there.

“Great,” my dad said. “Come on in.”

They turned toward the kitchen, and I finally yanked my hand away so I could follow, shooting Tanner a what-are-you-doing look on the way. He grinned. My eye twitched in time to the flips my stomach executed. How annoying. Our kitchen wasn’t nearly as upscale as his parents’, but it had all the same welcome.

“Have a seat,” my mom said, her tone now several degrees warmer. “I’ll get the mint chip.”

We each pulled out a chair, and my dad studied Tanner with a thoughtful expression that I knew meant he was doing some analyzing. “Excuse the mess,” he said, referring to the stray pieces of popcorn and other baking ingredients still cluttering the countertop. “We threw together an impromptu celebration for Pepper too, and the only thing I could think of to make was popcorn balls.”

“Good choice,” Tanner said. “Did you sing ‘Popcorn Popping’?”

“Of course,” my dad said, sounding dignified. “Any proper celebration requires singing to go with the feasting.”

I stared at him for a second before I burst out laughing. “To hear him, you’d never think he was doing the disco version less than an hour ago.”

“His hip hop version is better,” Ginger said, walking in with my cardigan. I took it from her and smiled in dismissal, but she ignored me and pulled up a chair.

“Hi, Tanner.”

It sounded like she was purring. I thought about rescuing him for a minute but then decided it would be funnier if I didn’t.

“Hi. You must be Ginger,” he said. I was impressed that he remembered her name. I’d only mentioned it once.

“I am. What brings you over tonight?” she asked.

“Asked and answered,” my mom said. “He’s picking up Pepper for Courtney. Don’t make him repeat himself, sweetie.”

Ginger pouted. “Don’t send me out of the room, and then I won’t miss anything.”

My mom brought over two bowls of ice cream and set them down in front of my dad and Tanner then went back for more.

“I don’t want any, Mom. I have to watch my figure,” Ginger said.

Watch her figure? It sounded like something my grandmother would say. Tanner looked nonplussed. There wasn’t an appropriate way to respond to that, so he kept his mouth shut. Smart guy. My dad decided to rein Ginger in before she got too outrageous.

“Where’s Rosemary?” he asked. “I can’t believe she hasn’t come in here yet.”

“She’s still watching
Beauty and the Beast
,” Ginger said. “She won’t go anywhere until it’s over.”

“You better make sure she’s all right in there,” my dad said.

“But—”

“No, really. Go check on her.” His voice was polite but brooked no argument.

She huffed and went to find Rosemary. That would take care of her for a while.

My mom joined us with two more bowls of ice cream. “How goes it at the
Bee
?” she asked Tanner.

“It’s good,” he said. “There’s always news somewhere.”

“I’ve read your articles,” she said. “You write well.”

That surprised me. She’d never mentioned reading his articles before.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love doing it.”

“It shows,” my dad said.

What? He was reading Tanner’s stuff too? Man, between the three of us, we were well on our way to supporting the journalism career of my nemesis. Only I didn’t feel much enmity toward him at the moment. The mint chocolate chip was mellowing me. Oh, who was I kidding? Spending time around Tanner was mellowing me. He was beginning to resemble a human. He was
maybe
even likable.

I listened as my dad and Tanner shot the breeze about sports, the season the Jazz were having, and whether BYU football had a shot in the fall. I took my time with my ice cream, listening but not adding much. I did most of the talking when I was around Tanner, and it was enlightening to sit back and observe. He had an easy way about him with my parents, relaxed but still respectful. He never jumped in on anyone else’s sentences, waiting for them to finish before he spoke. He bore the ribbing from my mom, a University of Utah graduate, with good grace when she teased him about BYU’s dismal football record against the U over the past few years.

With a straight face, he sighed and said, “I know. It’s because the coach never puts me in.”

This cracked both of my parents up. I liked that this pleased him, that he wanted to make them smile.

Even after the ice cream was gone, I didn’t say anything unless asked a direct question. Finally, Ginger popped back in, fed up with her banishment, and Rosemary followed her. “More celebrating?” Rosemary asked in delight upon seeing our empty bowls.

“Yes,” my mom said. “Pepper deserves it.”

Rosemary walked up to Tanner and regarded him with a friendly tilt of her head, like a puppy might examine a stranger in her play yard. “Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Tanner,” he answered.

“Oh! Like Too Good Tanner?”

I winced at the nickname she’d obviously heard me give him in some of my older rants.

He smothered a smile. “Yes, I think that’s me.” He held out his hand for a shake, and she accepted it. “You must be Rosemary. Pleased to meet you.”

Her delighted expression revealed how much she enjoyed this grownup ritual. “I like him way better than Landon,” she said, a smile on her face.

My dad cleared his throat. “I believe you mentioned that Courtney is waiting. We shouldn’t keep you.”

My cheeks burned at the mention of Landon’s name, but I appreciated my dad’s save. I so wasn’t in the mood for any questions about him. Tanner took the hint and pushed back from the table.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Sister Spicer. It was great,” he said. He turned to me. “We should go see what Courtney is up to. You ready?”

I stood and pulled on my cardigan. “Ready.”

I followed him out to the car, thanked him for opening my door, and waited while he fiddled with the dials on the dashboard, making sure I had no cold air blowing on me from the vents. When he pulled onto the street, I chose and discarded three different conversation starters before I settled on, “I’m surprised to see you here on a Tuesday night. Don’t you usually come down on Thursday?”

He shrugged. “When Courtney texted me that you got a full-time slot, I wanted to join the celebration.”

Startled, I sat up straight and stared at him. “You drove down here just because of this?”

He smiled out at the road. “Yeah.”

I blew out a breath because I didn’t know what to say and slumped back into my seat. “You make no sense.”

His smile quirked a little wider. “Why not?”

“Until recently, I was under the impression that you hated me.”

“And why would you think that?”

“You know. You were there.”

He laughed. “Neither of us had our best moment at that interview . . . that happened three months ago, by the way. What else?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. You don’t say much to me when we hang out.”

“
We
don’t hang out. You and Courtney hang out, and I hang around.”

“Same thing,” I said.

“Not really. You guys do your thing, and if it doesn’t put my Y chromosomes at risk, I tag along.”

My confusion only deepened. “Why do it if you think it’s lame?” I asked. “Courtney doesn’t need a babysitter, and even if she did, I’m qualified to do it.” I knew there was a bigger truth lurking, something that had more to do with Tanner and me, but it wouldn’t gel. Or maybe I didn’t want it to.

Or maybe I wanted to hear it from Tanner.

He said nothing, but he shifted slightly to slip his phone from his pocket and speed dial a number. I was learning not to rush him, so I waited. A moment later he said, “Would you care if we’re late? Good. How about if we don’t make it all?”