Page 19 of Guys Can’t Write Romance

Chapter thirteen

Happy Hours and Secret Stashes

“... and then the beer shot out her nose,” Chloe said with animated flourish, as she, Daisy, and Ava sat for happy hour at a Century City wine bar.

With the exception of Chloe’s hair, which she’d dyed green that week, the bar screamed elegance.

From the crystal chandeliers, casting warm light over the dark wood paneling, to the jazz band playing softly in the corner, it was the mirror opposite of Chad’s hangouts.

It was the kind of place Ethan would approve of, which made Chloe’s dramatic retelling of Daisy’s ‘incident’ at the sports bar even more entertaining. “It was awesome!”

Daisy face-palmed her forehead. “It was not awesome.”

“Oh, it totally was,” Chloe said. “Like one big beer fountain of joy.”

Ava nearly dropped her wine glass. “You actually did this in public?”

Chloe beamed. “She did. And the whole bar cheered. They wanted an encore.”

“What kind of bar was this?”

“It was a bar at the beach,” Daisy said. “We met Chad and his friends there on Saturday.”

“Chad? Have I met this person?”

“I’ve mentioned him to you before. He’s my writing partner. He’s helping me with the ‘guy’ parts of my novel.”

“At a dive bar?”

“This week’s lesson was on sports. So, we went there to watch the Dodgers game.”

“And Daze graduated tops in her class,” Chloe added. “With a minor in buffalo wings.”

Ava looked at Chloe. “I don’t find this at all amusing.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Chloe said. “That’s why I brought it up.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about,” Ava said, straightening her designer blazer as she turned to Daisy. “First, your writing partnership with this… Chad. And now, public intoxication.”

“I wasn’t intoxicated,” Daisy muttered. “I had a slight beverage malfunction.”

“Three times,” Chloe chimed in.

Daisy shot Chloe a glare. “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” Chloe said, not sorry at all.

“Please tell me this was simply a momentary lapse of judgment brought on by stress over this hobby of yours,” Ava said, signaling the sommelier to refill their glasses.

“Hobby?” Daisy said.

“Okay, your pastime, or whatever it is you call it.”

“Lifelong dream works just fine,” Daisy said.

Ava sighed. “Okay. But let’s have this be a one-time indiscretion we can laugh about at your and Ethan’s wedding.”

Chloe made a sudden loud gagging noise, causing several patrons at nearby tables to look over. “Sorry. Hairball.”

“Very mature, Chloe,” said Ava.

“Says the woman who thinks fun is a communicable disease.”

“Daisy has plenty of fun with Ethan.”

This time, Chloe made a strangling noise. “Have you ever met Ethan? He’s where fun goes to die.”

“He is not,” Daisy said.

“Is too. Like a big black hole sucking away all the fun.”

“I can see where you wouldn’t appreciate Ethan’s highbrow humor,” said Ava.

“We call it boredom where I’m from.”

Ava rolled her eyes and turned to Daisy. “Please tell me there’s nothing going on between you and this Chad person.”

“Of course, there’s nothing going on,” Daisy shot back. “None. Nada. We’re writing partners, when we’re not killing each other, and that’s it.”

“But…” Chloe, of course, had to chime in, “there was that Hallmark movie marathon you guys watched.”

“That was for research!” Daisy insisted, her voice rising enough to draw glances from the next table.

“You had your sacred Hallmark blanket.”

“It was chilly out.”

“What kind of research requires you to watch romantic movies with someone?” Ava cut in.

“And not just one, but three of them. Back to back,” Chloe said.

“I promised to help him learn romance tropes and story beats,” Daisy said. “So, I started him on Hallmark 101.”

“And it took him three movies to learn them?” Ava said.

“I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more,” Daisy said. “But at least he took the monsters out of his novel.”

“Which, if you knew Chad, is a huge accomplishment,” Chloe said.

“He sounds like a real class act,” Ava said.

“He’s not a bad guy once you get past the obnoxious frat-boy exterior,” Daisy said, surprising herself with the quickness of her defense. “And he’s been a big help with my male lead and understanding how guys think. And if Chloe tells him I said that, I’ll paper her room in Post-Its.”

Chloe broke into a big grin. “I’m chalking that one up as a win for Team Chad.”

Ava frowned. “We’re dividing into teams now?”

“No,” Daisy said. “There’s no teams.”

“There is for me,” Chloe said. “Team Chad all the way, baby.”

Ava just shook her head and turned back to Daisy. “If you want to understand how men think, why not just talk to Ethan?”

“Because she’s writing a sports romance story,” Chloe jumped back in, “not a guide on how to cure insomnia. He’d turn a steamy kiss into a lecture on proper dental hygiene.”

“Chloe!” Daisy exclaimed.

“What? Am I wrong? His idea of spontaneity is switching from white wine to red.”

“Chad’s also helping me understand baseball,” Daisy quickly added, trying to keep the conversation from veering completely out of control. “Which, since my story’s about a baseball player, only makes sense.”

“Again,” Ava cut in, “why not ask Ethan?”

“You mean the guy who called a basketball a ‘bouncy sphere’?” Chloe said.

“I’m just concerned, that’s all,” Ava said, leaning forward.

“You’re spending a lot of time with this Chad character, which you could be spending with Ethan.

Need I remind you, he’ll be managing the mergers and acquisitions department soon, and able to provide you with everything you need.

Security, stability, support. As your friend, I’m advising you, don’t blow this. ”

“Notice how she left out fun,” said Chloe. “And passion. And, I don’t know, actual human emotions.”

“Fun doesn’t pay mortgages,” Ava countered.

“No, but it prevents you from dying of boredom before you can make the payments.”

“Nobody said anything about blowing things with Ethan,” Daisy jumped in. “Contrary to what my brain-damaged roommate thinks, there is no Team Chad. He’s my writing partner, and that’s all.”

“With an asterisk in that last part,” said Chloe, making a notation gesture in the air.

“Writing partner who makes her laugh out loud and actually enjoy life. Writing partner who remembers the details of her book without having to be reminded what it’s about.

Writing partner who invites her to hang out with him and his friends on a non-writing day. ”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Daisy said, though something in her expression suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced of her own protest. Chad had, after all, remembered the title of her book when making his toast at the bar.

“Oh, honey, I have witnesses. And I’m pretty sure the guys at the tables next to us filmed it.”

Daisy buried her face in her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Chloe patted her arm. “And you don’t hate Chad either.”

“Speaking of Chad,” Daisy said, sitting up and checking her phone, “I need to go. We’re meeting to work on our books.”

“Right,” Chloe nodded sarcastically, making air-quotes around her next word. “Books.”

“Yes, books! Actual books that need actual work because there’s an actual deadline.”

As Daisy gathered her things, Ava caught her arm. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t let this contest distract you from what’s important.”

“Like spreadsheets and colored pill containers?” Chloe said.

Daisy gave Ava a reassuring smile. “Relax, Ava. Everything’s fine. Chloe is just being... Chloe.”

Daisy headed off. As soon as she was out of earshot, Ava turned to Chloe. “You’re encouraging this, aren’t you?”

“You better believe it, girl.” Chloe raised her glass. “Team Chad all the way.”

“I suppose that makes me Team Ethan.”

“Hey. You want to be on the side of the human screensaver, be my guest. But when was the last time you heard her laugh out loud? Or smile, like she really meant it?”

Ava didn’t answer, her silence more telling than any protest could have been. She took a deliberate sip of her wine, her expression thoughtful.

“Exactly.” Chloe finished her drink. “Well, I just saw it Saturday at the sports bar. Now, want to bet on how long it takes them to figure out they’re writing their own romance novel?”

“I assure you, they’re not.”

“My money’s on it happening by chapter three.”

After escaping the wine bar crossfire between Chloe and Ava, Daisy was surprised to feel her shoulders relax as she approached Chad’s apartment.

A light mist was rolling in off the ocean, carrying with it the distant sound of waves and someone playing an acoustic guitar on the boardwalk.

Who knew that watching sports and laughing until beer came out your nose could become a point of ethical debate?

But that was Ava for you, treating fun like it was a gateway drug to chaos.

When Chad opened the door, the familiar scent of pizza and sea air greeted her. “No Mary Poppins bag today?” he asked, noting the distinct absence of her usual arsenal of color-coded supplies.

“Nope.” Daisy dropped her simple notebook on the coffee table, purposefully not straightening the stack of magazines it landed on. “I’m going rogue.”

Chad took a quick look around the room, as if expecting to spot a hidden camera. “Am I being punked?”

“Shut up,” she said, her lips curling in a grin. “I can be spontaneous.”

“Says the girl who alphabetized my spice rack last week.”

“You had paprika filed under ‘red stuff,’ Chad. That’s basically a crime against culinary organization.”

“I knew what it was!”

“You were using it as potpourri.”

“It made the living room smell festive.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re hopeless.”

“And yet, you’re still here.” He headed for the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Definitely,” she said, plopping down on the couch with total exhaustion from mediating Chloe and Ava.

“Rough day at the office?”

“Rough day at happy hour.”

“Let me guess. Chloe was involved.”

Daisy chuckled. “The ‘rough’ part gave it away, didn’t it.”