Page 6 of Two’s A Charm

DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT?

Bonnie

Ouch, her head. Bonnie’s skull was inhabited by a thousand galloping stallions, who with each pounding hoof sent a clap of thunder pounding right behind her eyes. Even her biggest, darkest sunglasses and her strongest painkillers were not cutting it.

‘Big night?’ asked Terrance, one of the cute baristas at The Winged Monkey, the town’s highly photogenic coffee shop.

Wedged beneath a rabbit warren of offices and apartments, it was an airy space crammed with plants and pottery.

Whoever had furnished it had been given a clear mission to select items that were either rickety or cosy (not both), and as a result, the seating options were plush, deep couches and hanging egg chairs surrounding cute little tables that habitually spilled cookies and coffee all over the floor.

‘The welcome party for the new banker from the city,’ said Bonnie.

Every consonant sounded like a particularly zealous percussionist bashing a set of timpani between her ears.

Bonnie wasn’t allowed to drink on the clock – an annoying law that admittedly did make sense – but she’d made up for lost time after they’d shut down the bar and continued the party on the back patio of the Dorothy House, an adorable cottage that Hannah was in the process of selling.

‘There could be a buyer among us, right?’ she’d asked the group, who’d responded with a drunken roll call of credit scores.

Apparently, just as you shouldn’t feed gremlins after midnight, you also shouldn’t do shots after 2 a.m.

‘Banker, huh. I’m studying business, you know,’ said Terrance hopefully as he whipped up Bonnie’s usual triple chai cinnamon latte. ‘I’m also working on cultivating a photographic memory. I can do half a deck of cards. The full deck is going to be my audition for College Kids Got Talent.’

‘Good for you, child.’ Unfortunately for Terrance, anyone with a mullet was officially too young for Bonnie, and card memorization was definitely not on her list of sexy hobbies.

It was up there with Bobby’s D&D fascination, which she’d never understood.

Although, the way Bobby’s eyes lit up when he was talking about gnomes or whatever was a bit endearing.

Terrance pouted, but recovered quickly. He spun around the iPad. ‘And with your discount...’

Bonnie smiled as she added her tip. She had a discount at most places in town, which she thought only fair given the contribution she made to the local economy, and the generous pours she provided at The Silver Slipper, where you definitely got your money’s worth in every glass.

Bonnie staggered off to the twin pink velvet couches that she and her entourage claimed every Saturday morning.

Regrets. So many regrets. Not least that for all of her flirting and sassing and all the preparatory Googling she’d done on foreign exchange and hedge funds, her guest of honour had been decidedly uninterested.

‘I don’t understand.’ Bonnie traced the heart that Terrance had drawn on her cup. ‘I literally took off my dress right in front of him , and he didn’t react.’

Her wrists glimmered lightly, and she placed her hands beneath the table.

‘Maybe he’s asexual,’ mused Hannah, polishing off a muffin so large that it must have been stolen from atop a beanstalk.

‘Maybe the breakup broke him,’ said Kirsty. ‘He was talking to your sister. On purpose.’

Kirsty had a point. Perhaps he was avoiding putting his heart out there, and what better way to sidestep that risk than by engaging Effie, of all people, in conversation.

After all, there was nothing like participating in an episode of Effie’s long-running show, Who Wants to Feel Bad About Their Life Choices?

, to put you off diving back into the dating waters.

Alana downed her wheatgrass shot. The bell sleeves on her kaftan almost knocked over Bonnie’s very much needed coffee as she gestured for Terrance to rustle up another. ‘You know what always works? Jealousy. Competition. Emotional unavailability .’

‘I’m listening,’ said Bonnie. This sounded like a scheme, which was one of Bonnie’s favourite ways to spend her time. Especially if Bonnie got to be at the heart of said scheme.

Alana pulled out her pill case and started popping multivitamins like Bonnie might M&Ms. ‘We need to make it look like you’re off the market – or close to it. He’ll think if he doesn’t act soon, he’s going to miss out altogether.’

‘The scarcity principle, huh.’ Bonnie had learned about this during her short course on business marketing the college had opened up to the public earlier in the year.

‘You could use Bobby,’ suggested Hannah, ostensibly touching up her lip gloss. Like any good friend, she was actually using her compact mirror to see who might be listening. ‘He follows you around like a puppy anyway. You might as well put him to good use.’

‘The bar certainly isn’t his calling,’ agreed Kirsty. Her long nails flashed as she swirled her espresso in her cup. ‘You know he used house vodka in my drink? House . Vodka. He should know that I’m top shelf or nothing!’

Hearing the word ‘vodka’ made Bonnie’s head hurt. She rubbed her temple.

‘Bobby means well,’ she said. ‘And the amount of free labour I get out of him is criminal. Besides...’

Hannah regarded her curiously over the remains of her muffin. ‘Besides?’

Bonnie had been going to say that she’d always thought Bobby was kind of cute, and moreover, actually one of the kindest people she knew, but she wasn’t about to give her friends that kind of ammunition.

The one thing about being queen bee was that you never, ever showed weakness, especially when that weakness manifested as questionable taste in men.

Ugh, this hangover was doing a number on her.

‘It’s a great idea,’ she said, toasting with her mug. ‘Two boys, one stone-cold fox.’

Chuckling, her friends toasted back.

‘To killing the boys with babehood,’ said Hannah.

Kirsty leaned back in her chair, squinting at the outside through the plant-smothered window. ‘Wait, is that Theo? Where’s he off to this early?’

Trying to get a better look, Bonnie dragged her Ray-Bans down over her nose. Instant regret. She promptly popped the sunglasses back up, blinking as her poor, dehydrated brain tried to find equilibrium.

‘Not yoga,’ decided Alana, taking in Theo’s running clothes: understated but designer, and marred with sweat, even given the chilly morning. ‘Although he could do both. Runners do have weak glutes – yoga can help with that.’

Kirsty chugged her espresso and stood. ‘I can give him my loyalty card. I’m only two stars off a free session.’

‘Good idea, Kirst.’ Trying to keep her tone light, Bonnie snatched the punch card out of Kirsty’s hand and hurried to the door. ‘Can you clear the mugs for me, babe?’

‘Sure thing, babe!’ said Kirsty, her smile tighter than Bonnie’s favourite pair of jeans.

Bonnie blew her a kiss. ‘I have the best friends a girl could ask for,’ she said cheerily as her eyes narrowed. Watch yourself, Kirsty .

‘Are you going for a run, or are you being chased?’

Bonnie stepped out from behind the fountain at Linda Park, one of the four small parks that formed an emerald of green around the downtown square, and which Theo had chosen as his jogging track.

Startled by her sudden appearance, a trio of green-throated ducks waddled off towards the turtle pond, forcing an approaching skateboarder to leap to one side to avoid a situation that would have sent feathers flying.

Shelby, the long-necked centenarian turtle who hung out in the fountain, blinked disparagingly.

No doubt Shelby had seen plenty of engineered meet-cutes over the years.

All right, perhaps this wasn’t one of the better ones. But you try catching a runner. And besides, Bonnie wasn’t usually the one doing the chasing. She was a novice when it came to this particular type of courtship.

Acknowledging her with the wave of a sweaty hand, Theo stopped in his tracks, then dropped his head, placing his hands to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Sweat streamed down his neck and chest, forming a damp trail around a knotted leather necklace.

Leather – an interesting choice. Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Was he a surfer? A time traveller?

No, she was not about to get the ick. Not over something as tiny as a necklace. Not when she had an entire scheme going. Especially not when Kirsty was eyeing an elevated spot in the pecking order. She had a reputation to uphold, not to mention physical needs. Once this hangover passed, anyway.

Catching his eye, Bonnie repeated her ‘being chased’ line, but Theo looked at her as though she was an alien who had asked him his thoughts on interstellar travel.

‘Sorry, podcast,’ he said, tapping a white earphone. He stretched out an Achilles. ‘What was that?’

You could manage an impeccable delivery once. A decent delivery a second time. But the third time? Why bother. Bonnie wasn’t going to lower herself by repeating it.

‘Never mind,’ she said easily, even though her inner voice was having quite the monologue. ‘I just saw you out and about and wanted to see how you’re getting on.’

‘Good. Great.’ His finger hovered over his earphone.

Bonnie had never seen anyone so anxious to get back to his podcast. What was he listening to?

Serial-killer true crime? Movie recaps? Hopefully not a bald gym-bro guy.

‘This is a really sweet little town,’ he added, seeing that Bonnie wasn’t going to let him go that easily. ‘Everyone’s been so welcoming.’

Bonnie took a step back to allow a power-walking mom with a double stroller past. The mom was video-calling in an extreme outdoor voice about the perks of astral travel when you were stuck at home with the kids.

Fair enough.

‘Do you need any help finding anything?’ pressed Bonnie. ‘Groceries, doughnuts, dry cleaners? I know all the best spots. And I can get you hooked up with mates’ rates.’