Page 7 of Finding Mr. July

W here did you run off to last night?” Rachel asks when I pick her up from her West Seattle condo that afternoon. “One minute you were at the bar with Jonathan, and then I couldn’t find you.”

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a couple of leftover pierogies courtesy of Ava, I am renewed.

I’ve even worked out a cover story. “I realized I’d forgotten something in the office, so I went to get it and got stuck upstairs thinking about the fundraiser.

I thought I texted you, but I must have forgotten to hit SEND .

Did you have fun?” I ask before she can question me for details.

She folds down the visor to check her hair in the mirror. “Tons of fun. You missed the dancing.”

I stop for a red arrow before turning right. “No, I saw it.” Through a Reposado haze, but still.

“I definitely need coffee, though.”

She doesn’t have to wait long. We find a table at our favorite café on Alki Beach, and after letting the caffeine hit our bloodstream, we both sigh in relief.

I pull out a notepad and pencil but allow a few more idle minutes to pass.

The café is hopping, and the boardwalk offers a steady stream of good people watching.

Finally, Rachel puts her mug down and faces me. “So, are we going to do this or what?”

Brainstorming is on the agenda, so I pick up the pencil and give a firm nod. This is it. The beginning. I’m ready.

“By the way, did you ask Jonathan about working with us?” Rachel’s question is offhanded but sends my momentum veering right off the paved track. For the purpose of a clear mind that might generate winning ideas, I’d rather forget all about him.

His hands buried in my hair, his breath hot against my lips.

“What’s that look?” Rachel asks. “Don’t tell me you didn’t talk to him about it.”

“No, I did. And he will.” I hide behind another mouthful of my latte.

Rachel lights up. “That’s great! Phew.” She relaxes in her wooden chair. “Okay. Then how do you want to do this?”

We take ten minutes to generate as many ideas as we can without qualifications as to their merits. We’re left with a mix of big and small concepts—from a bake sale to a concert—and a few of them feel promising.

“I should tell you I texted with the other mentors this morning, so some of these are already taken,” Rachel says with an apologetic grimace. “We could double up, but then you run the risk of splitting the target audience.”

“Yeah, I don’t want that,” I agree. “Which ones are out?”

Rachel takes my pencil and crosses out social media first. “Ashley has that one in the bag,” she says.

“I’m not sure exactly what she’s doing, but you don’t have much of a following anyway.

And since Callum’s parents run one of the wineries in Woodinville, he’s doing some sort of raffle to benefit our riverbank vegetation projects along the Columbia River.

” She crosses out both wine tasting and raffle from our list. Damn it.

“Must be nice to have connections,” I grumble. “What about something like a parade or a race, then?” I point to that item on the list.

Rachel shakes her head. “Letitia is planning on a walk-a-thon, and she’s reached out to the Plant-A-Tree foundation to partner.”

“Already?” I slump. “Did our brains work like that in our twenties, too? Just…” I make a quick chopping motion with my hand.

“It could fall through. Fast doesn’t necessarily mean good.”

She’s right. One of the benefits of having more experience is knowing that often the tortoise will win over the hare.

“I’m going to get a cookie. You want one?” Rachel gets up.

“Please.”

While she’s in line, I add flower delivery and used book sale to the list.

The chocolate chip pastries are still warm, and we take a moment to savor them before returning to the list.

“I like the idea of going big,” I say, pointing to the fourth line on the paper. “If I could pull off a concert, that would be something. There are so many local bands in this city.”

“Except…” Rachel draws a line through concert . “Eric is throwing a ‘green party’—green because of the temperate rainforests—and he’s getting a band to headline. DaVon is really excited about it.”

“No, really? What the hell?”

“But you still have…” She checks the list. “Eh, maybe not flower delivery since it’ll be late October by the end of this.” She crosses it out. “And definitely not a bake sale post-pandemic.”

I take my notepad back. “Which leaves dog walking and used books. Thrilling.” I roll my eyes. “There’s got to be something better.”

We’ve finished our coffees, and since other patrons are waiting for tables, we gather our things and head down the boardwalk.

It’s a warm enough September day that a handful of children play at the water’s edge, but the beach is nowhere near as crowded as during the height of summer.

Only two of the seven beach volleyball courts are busy.

We find a bench with a view and make it ours.

“Hey, don’t stress,” Rachel says. “You’ll figure it out. You’re going to win this, remember? Have faith in the process.”

“Ha!”

“Too cheesy?”

“Cheddar explosion.”

She bumps me with her elbow. “You know what I mean.”

I shield my eyes and gaze across the glittering waters of Elliott Bay. Overhead, seagulls swoop and caw, and in the distance, the Seattle skyline does its best to match the blue-gray waves. Come on, ideas!

Loud cheering pierces the air from the volleyball court closest to us. A group of shirtless guys calls for the ball, diving and jostling and sending sand spraying. A beautiful boxer circles them, barking happily to cheer on his non-canine buddies.

“Look at the dog,” I say. “Thinks he can play volleyball, too.”

“He’d be better at it than me,” Rachel says. “I have two left feet and zero hand-eye coordination. If it doesn’t have an engine, I don’t engage.”

One of the teams scores, and the guy who slams the ball down does a victory lap, the dog on his heels.

“Woo-hoo,” Rachel hollers, clapping her hands.

The guy spots us and grins—white teeth against tan skin. As the game continues, he looks our way whenever there’s a break.

“I think you got his attention,” I tell Rachel. “You should go talk to him.”

She waves me off. “Nah. Sports bros are better at a distance.” She puts her hands behind her head and winks at me.

“Nothing wrong with the view, though. Bare skin, muscles, action, nature. Plus, we know they’re pet-friendly.

You could charge almost any woman in the world for a view like this any day of the year. ” She sighs blissfully.

Something happens inside my head at her words. The joyous hollers from the game continue, the boxer keeps barking, the sun keeps beating down on us, and the bay still sparkles, but each component becomes a fragment of a greater equation that spins and spins until, finally, it settles.

“Rachel, that’s it,” I say, clutching her forearm. “Remember that firefighter calendar Joanne has on the wall behind her in the video meetings?”

“Canberra Joanne?”

“Yeah.”

“Vaguely.”

“What if we do that, but instead of firefighters with koalas and kittens, we’ll do hot, outdoorsy guys with dogs?

” As I process verbally what my mind is doing, more and more pieces fall into place.

“If we do outdoor photos, we’ll hit on the environmental aspect, and we can sell it all over the country, not just locally.

Online orders, national reach.” I realize I’m still holding on to her, so I release my grip and wait for a reaction.

She’s quiet for a beat before she nods, her expression brightening by the moment.

“I like that. And it’s completely different from what the others are doing.

Only Ashley will have a similar reach with her social media thing, but what you’re proposing is a product, something tangible.

” Her brow furrows. “You’ll have less time, though.

You’ll want at least the last three of the six weeks for sales, which means your timeline just shrunk by a lot. ”

“I can be very efficient.”

“Oh, I know. But do you already know a bunch of attractive guys with dogs to ask?”

“I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll think of a few. And Jonathan might have friends to ask, too.”

“Aren’t you the optimist all of a sudden.”

“It’ll work. I know it.” I plead with her silently to get on board. I’m decent at taking pictures, Jonathan can do the layout, and Rachel can liaise with the North Carolina office for help with marketing on the East Coast.

Finally, she nods. “It’s a good idea,” she concedes. She pulls out her phone and types something in. “My Monday is completely packed, but I’ll set up a meeting Tuesday for the three of us to meet. How about you talk to Jonathan before that and get him up to speed?”

“Sounds good.” I’ll also need him to promise not to mention last night to anyone. In the midst of the awkwardness this morning, I completely forgot about that. Not that he seems like the type to kiss and tell.

Rachel bends her neck and hides her face behind one hand. “Shit, he’s coming over. What do I do?”

I glance the way she’s indicating, and the volleyball guy is indeed striding toward us, the dog in tow.

“Act normal,” Rachel whispers before she straightens and smiles.

“Hey,” the guy says.

“Hi there.” Rachel squints up at him. “Good game?”

“Pretty good. I saw you watching.”

I suppress a chuckle. Flirting can be so awkward. But good for him for putting himself out there.

“This is Bo, by the way.” He pats the dog’s shoulder. “I’m Nick.”

“Rachel. And this is my friend Holly.”

“Cool. So listen… any chance you’d be up for grabbing a cup of coffee or something?”

Wow—he’s really going for it.

“Um…” Rachel wrinkles her nose. “I’m kind of with my girl here, so…”

“Oh. Right.” He digs his bare toes into the sand.

I nudge Rachel as discreetly as I can, hoping to convey she should not let a polite go-getter like this slip through her fingers. It works.

“But how about you give me your number, and I’ll text you later?” she asks.

Nick lights up. “Very cool.”

As he returns to his friends, Rachel puts her phone away and then looks at me.

“I can ask him if he has a friend who’s available if you want.

Make it a double date? You haven’t so much as flirted with a guy since being at GCL, and you should.

If I looked like the long-lost twin of what’s her face?

That actress— Edge of Tomorrow , um, A Quiet Place … ” She snaps her fingers to remember.

“Emily Blunt?”

“Emily freaking Blunt. Yes. If I looked like that”—she waves her finger in the general direction of my face—“I’d strut my stuff every weekend.”

“I don’t look at all like her.”

“Sure you do. Oh, she did Mary Poppins Returns , too.”

“You think I look like Mary Poppins?”

“Don’t twist my words. It’s a compliment.”

I let out a vague huff and pretend to have something in my shoe. Last night was a long time coming, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Thanks, but I’m good. I don’t have time for that, and if I can make this calendar thing work, I’ll be moving to Scotland soon anyway.”

“That’s true.”

We make sure we have our garbage and our bags.

Then we set off toward my car. Rachel can have all the dating fun.

I’m going home, making a pot of coffee, and tackling this calendar idea.

By the time Monday morning rolls around, I intend to have a detailed plan to share with Jonathan so we can get started on the actual work.

The sky looks a little bluer, the people in the streets a little happier, and my future a little brighter as I navigate my way through North Admiral back toward Rachel’s place.

What a difference a few hours can make.