Finding Mr. Right (24 page)

Dear Diary,

There is a saying that talks about the best-laid plans going awry. Or maybe the plans of mice and men? I’m not sure, exactly, but let’s just say a granny, a Blake, and an Oliver don’t mix. Not at all. And now I’m beginning to wonder if the problem isn’t me. Maybe all of these schemes are at the root of my problem? I don’t know. But I do know that life never ends up going the way you expect it to.

“There’s something you should know, Maggie.” Ollie’s voice sounded a bit anxious, and I was praying he wasn’t going to tell me he was married. Not that I really cared, but it just seemed wrong that I wanted to involve a married man in a scheme to get my erstwhile boyfriend back.

“Hit me.”

“What?” He looked at me in shock.

“It’s an expression.” I rolled my eyes at him. How dumb were these Englishmen? “I don’t want you to hit me, as in make me black and blue, I want you to tell me what you need me to know.”

“Um, I think you have the expression wrong.” He grinned and I stared at him in silence. “Well, anyway, I need you to know that it wasn’t me who got my sister to retract the story.”

“What?” I frowned. “Don’t tell me she did it out of the goodness of her heart?”

“No.” He laughed. “I don’t know many gossip reporters who do anything out of the goodness of their heart.”

“Can you two hurry it up, please?” Anne interrupted us as we spoke in the hotel lobby. “We have more important things to be talking about.”

“Yes, Anne.” I kept my voice even, but I wanted to tell Anne to shut up. She had been annoying me ever since the day before and how she had acted at Selfridges. I had wanted to tell her to butt-out, but she now seemed to think she was in charge of my life and was telling me what to wear, what to do, and what to say. I think she felt like she was living through me or something. Reliving her youth. I wanted to tell her to butt-out, but even I wasn’t rude enough to be mean to an old person.

Oliver looked at Anne with a puzzled look on his face and turned back to me. I knew he knew something was up when I had introduced her as my ‘new friend’ (who happened to look exactly like the stranger that had been at the table next to ours the day before). “So, yeah, a lawyer contacted Holly. Told her he would sue her for libel on your behalf unless she retracted the story.”

“No way,” I frowned, confused.

“Yes, he said that unless she had proof you had said anything, she had better retract, because he was pretty sure Bradley Cooper wasn’t going to back up the story, and then it would be the word of her young daughter against yours.” He laughed. “Well, that gave Holly a fright, and she retracted.”

“Wow.”

“He told her not to say anything about his call, but she told me, and I thought you should know before you decided to get into a relationship with me under false pretenses.”

“A relationship?” I gawked at him. He wanted to be in a relationship with me? I had thought he just wanted a bit of holiday fun. I paused for a second and wondered if I should just forget the whole thing and date him instead.

“Do you want to share some curried tofu?” He grinned at me as he looked at the takeaway menu for a local Indian restaurant that I had given him.

“Uh, no thanks.” I tried to hide my grimace. But at least he had reminded me why a relationship would never work. Not that my heart was with him anyway.

“Who was the lawyer that called your sister?” Anne butted in. She really was turning into a nosey parker. I nearly laughed as I realized I’d made a fun joke out of her name. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate it, though.

“Blake something?” Oliver frowned. “I’m not really sure.”

“Blake?” I felt my face pale. “Blake called your sister to help me with the retraction?”

“Is that your man, my dear?” Anne looked at me with a content look on her face.

“Yes,” I whispered, oblivious to Oliver’s astonished look. “I can’t believe he helped me after everything that happened.”

“Er, who’s Blake? You know him?”

“Blake’s the man Maggie is going to marry,” Anne interjected.

“Marry?” Oliver jumped up. “What’s going on here, Maggie?”

“Well, I uh…” I paused, glaring at Anne.

“Oh sit down, dear boy, and don’t get your knickers in a twist. We just need you to kiss Maggie as her beau comes in, and then you can get in a fight and leave.”

“What?” Oliver and I both exclaimed at the same time.

“That’s not the plan, Anne,” I sighed. “We’re just meant to be holding hands.” I nodded at Oliver. “And you can put your arm around me if you want.”

“Is this a joke?” Oliver looked around the room. “Am I on Candid Camera or Jeremy Beadle or something?”

“Jeremy who?” It was my turn to be confused.

“Just a silly man with a silly show.” Anne coughed. “Now get a little closer to her now, Oliver.”

“What?” Oliver stepped back. “Who are you, by the way? I still haven’t been properly introduced.”

“I’m Anne.”

“Anne, the –?”

“Anne Parker.” She glared at him.

“And who are you to Maggie, Anne Parker?”

“She’s Anne Nosey Parker.” I attempted to lighten the mood with a joke, unable to resist my little vignette.

“Excuse me?” Anne turned towards me with a snarl. “What did you just say, you ungrateful cow?”

“Wait – what?” I looked at Anne and Oliver who were both glaring at me, and I wondered what had gone wrong so quickly. “Did you just call me a cow, Nosey Parker?”

“How dare you!” Anne pushed me. “You don’t deserve any of these men.”

“How many men are there?” Oliver frowned at me. “What’s going on here, Maggie?”

“Yes, Maggie, what’s going on here?” I heard a familiar voice behind me, and I froze. Blake was back, and he sounded none too amused at that. I turned around slowly and took a deep breath.

“Blake, there you are.” I smiled brightly at him and tried to inch him away from Anne and Oliver.

“Who are they?” Blake looked at me with an amused frown. I knew what he was thinking: What mess has Maggie gotten herself into now?

“I’m not really sure.” I bit my lip.

“You deserve better than Maggie, Blake.” Anne walked up to us. “I met this lady in the gym and thought she was very nice, so nice I was willing to help her with her problems, but then she called me a Nosey Parker. How dare she when I went out of my way to help her!”

“You wanted me to kiss another man! I don’t think that’s very helpful.” I glared at her, wondering how it was she could turn into an old shrew so quickly.

“Maggie?” Blake took my arm and squeezed it. “Apologize to the nice lady for calling her nosey, yeah.”

“Wait, what?” I frowned as Anne gloated at me. “Sorry, Mrs. Anne N. Parker.”

Oliver burst out laughing at my words, and I offered him a hopeful smile, but he glared at me in return. “I take it this is the boyfriend you wanted me to help make jealous?”

“Well…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was mortified, and my face was burning up in shame. We all stood there in silence until Blake cleared his throat.

“Yes, I’m sorry for Maggie. She’s a little distressed about some things that have happened in her life recently. I am her boyfriend, Blake. Let me show you out and pay for a taxi back home for you both.”

“I’m staying at the hotel,” Anne interrupted.

“Well, why don’t I give you some money for a nice dinner to make it up to you?”

“I suppose that could work.” She smiled at him sweetly, took the money, glared at me once more, and walked away. I was glad to see the back of her. And to think I had just been crying to her hours before about my misery.

“Maggie?” Oliver interrupted my thoughts. “Do you want me to go?” He had a hopeful look on his handsome face, and I was surprised at how little it meant to me that he wanted to stay. I really didn’t have any genuine feelings for him. Nothing like what I felt for Blake.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” I hung my head in shame. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m confused.” He smiled at me gently. “I thought we really got on at lunch, but my sister did warn me to stay away from you.” He shook Blake’s hand and walked out of the hotel.

I stood there, waiting for Blake to chastise me or go off on me, but when I looked up, Blake was grinning at me like an idiot. “What’s so funny?” I questioned him curiously.

“You are, you goof,” he laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always seem to get yourself into one ridiculous situation after another.”

“You’re not mad?” I asked hopefully.

“Of course I’m mad. I’m furious.”

“Oh.”

“But I’ve changed my mind about one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I do want to be your boyfriend again.”

“Really?” I grinned at him and ran into his arms. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“No. I was angry when I told you it was over. I never really meant it. So I guess I was playing a game there, as well. I want to be honest in our relationship, Maggie Moo.”

“Me too, Blakey-wakey.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Shall we go upstairs to the room?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and slid his hand across my bottom.

“Hey.” I jumped at his touch and giggled. “You just want to take me to bed.”

“Among other things.” He smiled seductively. “Are you down with that?”

“Yes,” I whispered excitedly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was afraid I was in the middle of a dream.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, though, Maggie.” He pointed his finger at me. “Tomorrow we need to have a very serious talk.”

“Uh huh.” I grinned. “Let the pieces fall where they may tomorrow.” I laughed as we got into the elevator and he kissed me. I closed my eyes and pressed myself into him, happy that once again I was on his good side.

Dear Diary,

Today is a brand new day. I am a brand new me. Life is worth living. The birds are chirping. The dogs are barking. The sky is blue. McDonald’s still has amazing fries, and I’m in love. And free to shout it to the world.

“I can’t believe you went on a date with that guy.” Blake kissed the tip of my nose as we lay in bed together.

“I wouldn’t really say it was a date-date.” I smiled at him sweetly. “I mean, he took me to a health food place to eat.”

“Thank God.” He grinned. “If it had been a steak place, you might not be here right now.”

“Funny.” I poked him. “Of course I would.”

“You can’t be sure of that. Maybe you and Ollie would have run off and gotten married.”

“No, Blake.” I rolled my eyes.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, because I…” I paused and ran my hands over his chest. “Because I just am, okay?”

“I love you, Maggie.” Blake whispered in my ear, and I gasped and looked up at him.

“What?” I shrieked.

“I love you,” he grinned. “If we’re being obvious, I thought I should tell you. I’ve loved you for a while now.”

“No way,” I grinned at him deliriously. “Oh, my God, this is crazy.”

“Um, no response?” He poked me in the stomach.

“Why hello, of course I love you, you doofus.” I grinned up at him. “I have for ages. I just never thought you would love me.”

“Why not?” He frowned.

“Because I need to lose about 20 pounds and you are a bodybuilder.” Okay, so I lied, I needed to lose more than 20, but he didn’t need to hear exact numbers.

“I’m not a bodybuilder, and I love your body, Maggie Moo. You should know that.” He kissed my shoulder.

“Well, when you equate me with a cow, what do you expect me to think?” I said angrily.

“I’m not equating you with a cow.” He frowned. “Are we going to argue again so quickly?”

“I’m not arguing,” I whispered, ashamed. “I’m just making a point.”

“I know.” He kissed my nose. “And if you really hate it, I’ll stop.”

“No more Maggie Moo-moo?” I said hopefully.

“You can just be Maggie.” He smiled. “My Maggie.”

“That sounds…” I paused and laughed. “I can’t believe I am saying this. But that sounds awfully boring. You can call me Maggie Moo-moo.”

“What?” He exclaimed and laughed. “You do know that this is your only opportunity to stop me from calling you Maggie Moo-moo, right?”

“What?”

“From this day forward, I can call you Moo-moo without you complaining.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well…” A banging on the door interrupted Blake, and I groaned.

“Oh no, you don’t suppose Nosey Parker is back?”

“Oh, Maggie, only you could make friends with a crotchety old lady.”

“She’s no friend of mine.” The banging continued, and Blake jumped up to open the door.

“Blake?” Gayle’s voice poured into the room, and I pulled the sheets up quickly. “Maggie?” Gayle stood in the entryway to my door blinked rapidly. “You guys made up, huh?”

“Yes,” Blake chuckled. “Let me guess: Maggie sent you a melodramatic email, and you rushed here to save her.”

I felt myself going red at his words. It did seem like I always needed to be rescued.

“Something like that.” Gayle frowned at me.

“Gayle, I am sooo sorry.” I offered her a hopeful smile, and she rolled her eyes.

“Uh huh.” And then she grinned. “It’s okay. Ben came as well, so we’re going to have a romantic week together.”

“Oh, Gayle.” I wriggled my eyebrows at her and she laughed.

“You shush, Maggie.” She laughed. “I’m going to go and tell Ben I didn’t find you in here sobbing your eyes out.”

“Thanks for coming, Gayle.” My eyes welled up with tears. “It means a lot to me.”

“Of course, Mags. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“Yes. On me.” I groaned inwardly at my words and bit my lip in worry as Gayle left and Blake closed the door.

“What’s wrong, my dear?”

“I can’t afford to buy anyone breakfast tomorrow,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What, Maggie?” He frowned as he walked up to me. “I’m not sure what you just said.”

“I can’t afford to buy breakfast tomorrow.” I looked down, embarrassed.

“Oh no.” Blake sat next to me and grabbed my hands. “Are you having money problems, Maggie?”

I nodded, embarrassed. “Kinda.”

“Can I help?”

“No.” My words came out louder than I wanted to. “No, but thanks,” I said softly. I could not take money from him, not after everything that had gone on already.

“Maggie.” He looked pained as he paused. “We do really need to have a serious conversation. What’s going on with the book?”

“I started a new one.” I paused. “One I think is pretty good.”

“Really?” He looked at me in doubt. “I feel like you’ve started so many books and nothing has ever really come of it.”

“I don’t blame you for not believing me,” I sighed.

“Will you read some of it to me?”

“Really?” I looked at him in surprise.

“Yes. Really.” He smiled. “I told you I have some contacts in the industry. I want to help you get a publishing deal, Maggie. I want you to be making money.”

“Hold on.” I grabbed my iPad off of the nightstand. “Let me read it to you. Promise to be honest.”

“I promise.” He leaned back in the bed, and I opened the app and started reading. “Soul Mates, by Maggie Lane.” I cleared my throat, and Blake nodded his head encouragingly. “Chapter One.” I smiled self-consciously and began.

I’ve always believed in soul mates. I just haven’t met mine yet. I’ve never even been in love. People tell me that at 18, I have the rest of my life to wait. But I don’t want to wait the rest of my life. I don’t even want to wait five more years. I’m ready now. Ready for the moment when my eyes meet his and I feel as if he has seen my soul and me his. I already know his voice and his name. Well, to be honest I know his voice, not his name. I made up the name to match the voice. But as the years have passed, I have a hard time remembering exactly what he sounds like.

People used to think I was crazy. I suppose you’re just asking for that label when you tell someone you are hearing voices in your head. Only it’s just one person I ever hear, and that’s him. We used to talk every day when I was 15, but
when I got sent away, he stopped. I thought what they were saying was true, that the meds had taken away my craziness. And they released me. They said I started hearing the voice because my father had died. That it was my subconscious finding a way for me to survive. They told me that I imagined my father talking to me so I would think he was still alive. I knew better than to correct them. I never heard my father’s voice. It was his. It was Jacob’s.

The first conversation we had took place at the beach. I was 14, just about to turn 15, and my dad had died two weeks before. I’d gone by myself late at night to listen to the waves crash into each other in the ocean and to watch the stars. I’d snuck out of the house and ridden my bicycle to the beach. It wasn’t a far ride, but I took a knife with me just in case some bum tried to attack me. I had decided to risk it and go and float in the ocean. I’d been mad that my dad had died, and felt like God had let me down. As I stared at the stars floating, I heard “Hi.” Shocked, I turned my face and gulped some saltwater. I didn’t see anyone. “Hi,” I heard again. I swam back to the beach quickly. I thought it was a sign that I should never sneak out of the house again. I grabbed my bike and pushed it through the sand like a banshee.

“Hello?” The voice remained. “Is anyone there?” I knew
there was no way someone was talking to me as I was biking down the street, and I hurried back into my house and made myself some tea. I just needed to sleep. For some reason, tea always made me sleepy. My dad used to say I had an anti-caffeine gene. I remember drinking my tea and crawling into my bed with tears streaming down my face. I wanted to go and talk to my dad about the latest book I was reading so he could tell me whether he thought it was junk or not. I buried my head in my pillow and screamed. I didn’t want anyone else in the house to hear me. Not my mom or little sister. I didn’t want them to worry about me. We were all devastated by the loss of my dad.

As I sobbed into my pillow, I heard the voice again. “Hello?”

In my angry state, I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I replied to the voice. “What do you want?” I thought the words instead of saying them. I knew
there was no one there to actually hear me.

“Hello, can you hear me?” the voice sounded excited. I figured I was hallucinating or something.

“Yeah. I can,” I thought the words again.

“You are going to make me faint.”

“Okay.”

“I never thought this would work.”

“What would work?”

“That I could talk to someone in my head.”

“Yeah, well. Tomorrow that ability will be gone.”

“Why will it be gone tomorrow?” The voice sounded confused. “Have you done this before?”

“Done what?” I was exasperated with myself and the conversation going on inside my head.

“Spoken to someone in your mind.”

“No, but I’ve never been crazy before.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded sad. “I never considered that possibility.

“What possibility?” I was fast losing patience and was considering counting sheep so I could go to sleep.

“That I was crazy.” His tone was low and worried.

“Look, I’m crazier than you. The voice inside my head is a male. I can’t even talk to myself in my own gender.”

“You have a nice voice.” He sounded happy. I didn’t know how he could go to happy from worried so quickly.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, snarky.

“Modest, too.” He laughed. It was low and comforting.

“What can I say?” I laughed against my will. “I’m going crazy, and I’m talking to myself.”

“Well, then I’m going crazy talking to myself as well.”

“You sound crazy.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You want to make me believe I’m hearing things in my head. You want to drive me crazy. I’m going to fall asleep soon, and you are going to be gone.”

“Do you believe in bashert?” he asked me softly.

“Bash what?” I was annoyed. How could I ask myself a question I knew nothing about?

“Bashert?” His voice was soft.

“Nope,” I replied flatly.

“Are you Jewish?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“Oh, indeed.” I closed my eyes tightly and willed the voices to go away and the conversation to stop.

“Are you agnostic?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, stop with your oh’s.”

“You stop with your oh’s.”

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.” I kept saying oh until I thought he was gone.

“I thought you’d be Jewish.”

“I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I’ll never be gone.” His voice was serious. “We’re destined, you and I.”

“Destined for the loony bin?” I laughed hysterically.

“What color is your hair?”

“Black.”

“And curly?” he whispered so softly that I could barely hear him. “And you have brown eyes. And a mole on your lip, your bottom lip.”

“Okay.”

“Am I right?”

“Duh, you know you are. You see me in the mirror every day.”

“I prayed for you.”

“Uh okay.”

“I have to go now. But look up Bashert.”

“Sure thing.”

“Goodnight.” His voice reverberated through my brain as I fell asleep. I woke up late the next morning and felt happy. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I had a reason to live. I didn’t even know why I suddenly felt so great, but the heavy burden I had on my heart no longer existed.

I think about that night all the time now. For some strange reason, I can remember our first conversation word for word. Something inside of me knew to keep it ingrained deep in my brain. Even though I hadn’t believed at the time. I had just thought it was me. I didn’t know it was my Bashert. And now he’s gone.

Chapter Two

It’s been three-and-a-half years since my dad died. Every day is still hard. I see him in so many different places, and I can’t go into a bookstore without feeling a pang of loneliness. I play the game by myself now: good, bad, or should be extinct. Those were the categories my dad gave to the books I read. Every classic was automatically a good. He wanted me to read Austen, Dickens, and Tolstoy. No matter how old I was. The bad books were my favorite ones: Babysitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and The Red Street Gang. The extinct were the romance novels I read. My dad used to call Harlequin novels ‘Harle-sin’. He felt that all they did was make women believe in a ‘happily ever after’ that would never happen in real life, and he said that was a huge sin. It didn’t matter to me. I read them voraciously. I would use my pocket money every week to buy a new one. Even at 13, I was a true believer in love.