He couldn’t pause to think about whether it was ethical or fair or, hell, even creepy, cyberstalking her that way. But hey, it wasn’t fair that he was trapped in his mobile either, so Eat that, ethics, he thought savagely. And he’d done it. He’d found the place and the time, and then he’d groveled his way into a date, thanking god that the rules of bizarro allowed him to at least write his own emails.
He looked across the table at Gina. He’d answered her note, saying that his profile wasn’t a joke but more a kind of atonement. He’d listed all of the awful flaws he could think of and exposed them. It was as close to the truth as he could get, and something told him that the iLove universe would accept nothing less. Still, somehow, miraculously, she’d agreed to go out with him.
The problem was he was only here to find Macy. Gina was a very nice woman. Attractive too. But looking into this woman’s blue eyes only made him want to see Macy’s brown ones. And watching this woman’s high-heeled sashay made him want to see Macy’s resolute walk in flats. And hearing this woman’s breathy explanations of what made her tick made him want to hear Macy’s teasing banter.
The fact was he wasn’t going to get over Macy, so while lying to Gina was wrong, it was his only option. Unless he wanted to live in that room full of damaged cubicle dwellers forever.
His hand went for his phone with half a notion of checking out Macy’s Facebook picture again—maybe she’d do a check-in at the restaurant—but it still wasn’t there, so he brought his elbow back to the table, his eyes riveted to his date’s face, feigning interest.
Gina, he reminded himself. What was she talking about? Her job? He let his eyes wander a bit to the scene behind her, but there was no sign of Macy.
He was just wondering how he could make this night last as long as necessary in order to find her when his eye was caught by shining auburn hair on a petite woman moving with swift determination across the dining room. His heart swooped upward. He’d know the set of those shoulders anywhere, the bob of those curls, the curve of that hip.
Without realizing he’d moved he was on his feet. Gina looked up at him in surprise. He smiled, apologized and said he’d be right back, then he took off after Macy.
He caught up to her in the wood-paneled hallway leading to the restrooms.
“Macy!” Just saying her name out loud made him feel like the wind had finally caught his sails.
She turned, clearly unsurprised to see him.
Her mouth was set, but her eyes looked tragic.
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking an involuntary step toward her. He reached for her, one hand out, before remembering he wasn’t allowed to touch her anymore, their being broken up and all.
“Yes. Fine,” she said, with a forced smile. “How are you, Jeremy? It’s nice to see you.”
His brows dropped. Was she angry? Because of the time warp of bizarro he knew it had been longer for her than for him. He’d have hoped that would make her happier to see him, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect.
“I’m—well, I’m glad to see you too. Are you— How have you been?” The meaninglessness of the words made him want to weep. But what to say? How to tell her he was sorry, how to beg for another chance? Just leap right in?
It didn’t feel right.
She took a breath; he could see her chest rise with the effort and he wished he could hug her. A futile longing stabbed him.
“I’ve been fine,” she said. “Really, just great. And you?”
He hunched into his shoulders, pressing his hands in his pockets. “Not . . . I wouldn’t say ‘fine.’” He tried another smile, wondering at the look in her eyes, so at odds with the detached tone of her voice. “Pretty not fine, actually. But—but you, you’re okay?”
“Sure.” She nodded with that tight smile, but he knew her, and he could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry. “I’m sorry you haven’t been fine. You seem to have a nice new, um . . . your date looks nice.”
“To be honest, I have no idea if she is or she isn’t,” he said, dropping his shoulders—along with all efforts at concealment.
“Oh.” That startled her. “First date?”
“Yeah. Are you here with someone?”
She flushed red. “Yes.”
There was a tense moment where they simply stood there, looking at each other. Then she did the most unexpected thing. Clasping her hands together, she stepped toward him. “Jeremy, I just want to say, I’m so sorry. And I’m sorry to do this to you while you’re on a date with”—she swept an arm out toward the dining room—“that nice woman. But I just—I have to say I’m sorry. About the whole . . .” She swirled her hand in a circle, looking down, shaking her head. “Breaking-up thing.”
The breaking-up thing?
“The breaking-up thing?” he asked out loud.
“I know I probably just beat you to the punch, but the way I did it!” She put her hands over her eyes. “I’m so ashamed. I’m impulsive and make snap decisions and I act on them too quickly, before I’ve thought. I’m just like Bill’s ex-girlfriend!”
“Bill?”
“And I hope to god she’s sorry too, because he’s a really nice guy.” She looked up and wagged a finger. Then she flushed and put a hand over her mouth, gazing at him. “But you. God, Jeremy, you didn’t deserve me. I mean the awful me, just walking out like that. And I understand why you didn’t call or anything. You were done anyway, but I wish we—”
“There you are!” a male voice said. “I was just beginning to wonder if . . .” The guy’s voice trailed off as he took in Jeremy. “Oh,” he said, with an expression like a smacked child. “Have I interrupted something?”
Yes, Jeremy wanted to say, a thousand times yes. What on earth was she talking about, beating him to the punch? She thought he was done? With what?
Macy’s eyes darted from Jeremy to her date and back. She seemed on the verge of saying more, but she stopped herself and said, “No, not at all. I just ran into an old friend. Bill, this is Jeremy. Jeremy, Bill.”
Bill stepped up and shook his hand. “Good to meet you.” His eyes shifted to Macy. “Uh, I’ll just meet you back out there. I wanted to be sure you were okay, is all.” He nodded at her, waiting.
“Okay,” she said. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
But Bill lingered another minute, so she turned a falsely bright look on him and said, “Jeremy, great to see you. Hope you have a nice evening.” Then she disappeared into the ladies’ room.
Jeremy leaned back against the hall wall, then noticed Bill still standing there, hands in his pockets, head cocked like a spaniel awaiting a treat.
“Are you the ex-boyfriend?” he asked.
Jeremy spent a moment adjusting to the title. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“She mentioned she was getting over someone.”
“Did she?” Getting over. Not over. Was this some kind of test? Was Mrs. Hartz watching even now?
“Yeah.” The guy smiled and looked down, thinking. “To be honest I don’t think she’s let go yet. Hope I’m not out of line telling you that.”
Jeremy straightened. “No. No, not at all.” He gave a short laugh. “Really?”
Bill raised his hands and eyebrows, then turned back to the dining room.
Jeremy looked to the ladies’ room door. How weird would it be if he were still out here when she came back?