Page 7

S ophie watched as her date applied lipstick for the second time since they had arrived at the restaurant. She wasn’t sure if this woman was trying to make the act look sexy or if she thought she needed to reapply, despite having too much on already, but she slowly and maybe seductively dragged the bright-red lipstick over her bottom lip and then her top one again until she finally capped it, closed her pocket mirror, and tucked both items back inside her clutch. Sophie forced a smile when their eyes met. This was her fifth date in six months. It was her seventh overall in the past year. Well, nearly a year, at least. In just two days, it would be exactly a year since she’d met Bryce, and she considered that night a date. She considered that night to be the best date of her life.

Sophie still couldn’t believe it had been that long. She missed her. How was that possible? Missing someone she hardly knew. Missing someone she only talked to for a few hours one night. They’d done all the small talk and had only just touched the surface of the important things people talk about, so there was no indication that they would’ve been anything to one another beyond that night. It could’ve just been amazing sex, and the next morning, Bryce could’ve told her that she was a conservative Republican who was homophobic and needed to go confess her sins for what she’d done or something. That would have ended whatever they’d had the night before, for sure. Sophie smiled shyly, thinking about that because Bryce wasn’t like that, and somehow, she knew it.

“Do you like it? It’s my lucky shade,” her date said.

“Sorry?” she asked as she tried to refocus on the woman in front of her and not the one she’d met almost a year ago.

Sophie had done this every single time, and it had taken her three months to even agree to let Jill set her up with someone in an attempt to get Bryce off her mind. When she had finally given in, Jill had set her up with a friend of a friend who had been in town from Dallas. As nice as the woman was, though, Sophie didn’t feel any spark there. She had no interest in kissing her goodnight or going out with her again. Her second date had been with someone Kyle had met while volunteering at a soup kitchen, and she was also very nice. She ran the non-profit and dedicated her life to helping the less fortunate. Sophie wanted to feel something for her – the woman was pretty and had a sweet disposition – but when she tried to picture them sleeping together, she could only imagine that the woman was a bit of a pillow princess, which might have been unfair, but Sophie wanted something else and wasn’t willing to find out if she was right.

Her third, fourth, and fifth dates were also attractive women who were nice and funny, but that was all she could remember about them after their nights had been over. The sixth woman was a little different. She had a near buzz cut and had been a blind date that a woman at work had set her up on. Sophie shouldn’t have gone at all because now things were awkward between her and the co-worker, who, it turned out, had suggested she go out with her cousin. Not that buzz cuts were bad or anything – on many women, they looked great – but while her date could pull it off, too, Sophie kept thinking about how she’d loved running her hands through Bryce’s hair, and she wouldn’t be able to do that with this woman. That had been it, and when the woman had given her a peck on the cheek at the end of the night and asked Sophie for another date, just that act, a kiss on the cheek, had her thinking about someone else kissing her neck and, later, her lips, making Sophie feel like that was the only kiss she needed in her life ever again and she could die happy. As a result, without hesitation, she’d turned down the offer of another date and now had to face glares in the break room at work.

This seventh woman was someone Monica had met one night at a function she’d gone to with Bridgette, where they’d been trying to market the greeting cards they made and sold. Sophie wondered if her date had pulled out the lipstick on that night, too.

“I had a great night,” the woman told her at the end of their dinner when they walked out to their cars in the parking lot.

“Yeah, me too,” she said more out of habit than anything else.

“So… I’m only about fifteen minutes from here, if you want to come over for a drink.”

And here it was. Sophie really should have expected it: the woman had been giving her signals all night. But it was something she still wasn’t used to. These seven dates were the most she’d had in a single calendar year in her entire adult life, and now, she knew why. Sophie hated dating. She didn’t want to go on a blind date or have someone set her up. She wanted to meet a woman on her own and have that connection with her that told them both that they needed to meet up again before it would go from there.

“Oh. I’m pretty tired, and we had coffee with dessert, so I think I’ll just head home.”

“Are you playing hard to get, trying to be noble because you know what I’m really asking for, or blowing me off?” the woman asked. “Just so I know.”

Well, Sophie had to admire the moxie.

“I don’t know,” she said, clearly lacking the same moxie. “You’re great. I just–”

“Blowing me off.” The woman nodded. “Got it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just in a weird place at the moment.”

“But you went out with me anyway?”

“I thought I was okay, and that’s my fault. I’m sorry. You really are great.”

At least, Sophie assumed that she was. She hadn’t been paying much attention at dinner and hadn’t caught many details about her date’s hopes, dreams, aspirations, or, really, anything beyond her first name.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“It’s fine. I only went on this date because I wanted Monica to donate to a charity I’m on the board of.”

“Monica asked you to date me before she’d donate–”

“Oh, no.” The woman chuckled. “Not like that. She just brought up her friend, who was single, and I thought that if I mentioned that I was single, too, she’d set us up, and I’d be more likely to get a nice donation.” She shrugged. “No harm. I’m kind of doing this on-again, off-again thing with a friend of mine, anyway, and it’s been off for a minute now. I think I’ll call her and get it back on again.”

Then, without saying goodnight, her date climbed into her car, and Sophie watched her use the touch screen in her vehicle to call someone. This woman was arranging herself a new date with someone else for later that night while her current one was still standing right there. Sophie had dodged a bullet with this one and would definitely let Monica hear it.

◆◆◆

“She did what?!” Monica asked when Sophie called her after arriving home.

“I think she made a booty call,” she replied, flopping onto her sofa in her sweats.

“I can’t believe her… And she thought that if she went out with you, I’d donate more?”

“Basically, what she said.”

“Soph, no. I’d never do that. I–”

“I know,” Sophie replied. “I know you well enough to know that.”

“Part of me wants to take back my donation, but it’s not like it goes to her – it goes to people in need, so that would only make things harder on them.” Monica sounded like she was talking to someone on her end of the phone. Then, she laughed and added, “Bridge said I should give a bigger donation to another member of the board to spite her.”

Sophie laughed and replied, “I’ll leave that up to you, but I think I’m going to be done dating for a while. No more setups, please.”

“I am sorry, Soph.”

“I know.”

“There haven’t been all that many dates, though,” Monica added.

“More than enough, considering I’ve been a train wreck on all of them, including tonight.”

“Bryce?” Monica asked.

“You don’t have to tell me how stupid it is to still be thinking about her. I am well aware. I’m trying, Mon. I’ve watched you and Bridgette move in together, and you seem so happy working together, too. I also helped Mel move into Kyle’s house, which is now their house, and I’m so happy for all of you. I want that, too, trust me. I’m not trying to hold on to this. It holds on to me . It makes me feel like I can’t move on until I somehow find her again and learn she was married when we met and has six kids or something.”

Monica laughed and said, “That’s a lot of kids.”

“Maybe she wasn’t married then, but she could be on her way now, you know? It’s been a year. She probably forgot all about me, met someone, and they’re moving in together as we speak, eating cold pizza off of boxes, and sleeping on an air mattress because they’re waiting for their new bed to arrive at their perfect little house in their perfect suburban neighborhood.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” Monica asked.

“I think about her every damn day.”

“Soph, I think you’ve made more of the night than it was. I don’t mean to say that it wasn’t an important night or that Bryce wasn’t great. It’s just that sometimes, we reimagine things the way we want them to be. We add things to them that didn’t really happen, and someday, we start actually believing that those things have occurred.”

“Are you suggesting I imagined that we kissed?”

“No,” Monica replied. “Not that , specifically. Just that maybe it’s taken on this larger-than-life part in your mind, and because of that, you can’t move on from it.”

“I’m trying, Monica.”

“I know you are.” Monica paused before adding, “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night? Want to come over here and have dinner? I have good wine, and we’ve got almost all the boxes unpacked now. You can sit on dining room chairs at a table. No eating cold pizza on boxes.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Can I let you know? I might have to work late tomorrow.”

“No problem,” her friend replied before they disconnected.

Monica recently left Arnette Assets to join Bridgette’s greeting card company full-time, but she’d officially quit Arnette nine months prior and had remained on as a consultant until her father had retired a month ago. She’d also been unofficially working with Bridgette the entire time, and now, they adorably shared a home and an office while Sophie lay on her sofa in her small apartment alone, wondering about the soft dark hair of the perfect soft butch she’d loved and lost all in one night.

She thought about the line in the movie Titanic when Rose told everyone in the present day that she never even had a picture of Jack. That was exactly how Sophie felt now. She didn’t even have a picture of Bryce. She’d had a phone. It had a camera. Why hadn’t she snapped a quick selfie and, at the same time, suggested they exchange numbers just in case? That thought haunted her every single day.

She hadn’t ever gotten up the courage to ask Monica about a job. Monica’s year had been a busy one already. She had moved her son into college, moved from Manhattan to New Orleans, and quit the job she’d had her entire life and future job as CEO she’d been about to take. She’d also started a relationship with Bridgette, joined the company here, and just recently, they moved in together, even though Bridgette probably hadn’t spent a single night at her own apartment in months.

God, Sophie wanted that. Well, she wanted a new job too, and she’d still been trying, but luck just hadn’t been on her side. She’d been rejected from well over a hundred companies, gone on over twenty interviews for remote jobs and a few for local ones, and there were jobs that were neither local nor remote that she’d applied for, but when push came to shove, she knew she wouldn’t take a job that required her to move. Not only did she love where she lived and the new friends she’d gained here, she had her family to think about. It was also true that Bryce knew she lived here . If Sophie ever moved, that would be the end.

She’d gone to the bar where they’d met at least once a week for a year now. Sometimes, twice a week, and one time, every night in one week. She’d order a drink and sit on that sofa waiting as if, at that exact moment, Bryce, too, would have gotten that idea and would show back up. Of course, that would mean that the woman still thought about her, and Sophie needed to get it into her mind that that just wasn’t the situation. She needed to move the hell on.