Unchosen (Chosen #2) (2 page)

ONE

SIX MONTHS LATER

Choosing where to eat lunch in the bustling city of Boston can be exceptionally overwhelming. There are so many restaurants and sandwich shops in and around my office to choose from and let’s face it, I love to eat. I will eat Thai food, Chinese food, sushi, Irish stew or a great slice of pizza.

Food became a wonderful substitute for happiness during my pregnancy so when I attended that seminar for financial advisors, promising a lucrative future
and
a promising banquet lunch, I was the first to arrive and the first in line for lunch.

Since lunch was crucial to my day, I once calculated that it took about seven and a half minutes to get to most of my favorite places and back to my office. If I call ahead and give them my usual order, I could cut the time down to a little over five minutes. Work was busier and busier as I brought in more accounts and I relied on those timeframes for scheduling meetings and processing trades. 

I had my own office, my own business cards and on the outside, I was super fabulous. Okay, fabulous is a little over the top. Being a single mother sort of takes the gusto out of the word. The word
fabulous
actually needs to be revisited and revised in the dictionary for us baby mommas.

Underneath the fabulous facade, I was a fake. I was still a soul crushed, broken hearted little girl. The successful
business woman I had purchased also came with a mask that everyone clearly believed. It screamed, “I am a hot shot lady about town.” My mask was flawless. I smiled at my coworkers, the receptionist, the door man and even the regular train guy who stamped my tickets day in and day out. No one knew how lonely I really was on the inside because on the outside I was extroverted and always in high spirits.

One Tuesday lunch break in late September, I was standing in line at a trendy local bistro, Your Soupy Salad, when a woman cleared her throat. Her voice startled me from my normal reverie of counting the minutes to get my warm food and get back to the office. It was an especially frigid day and I was chilled to the bone.

“When are you expecting?” the woman’s voice asked from my right side. I looked to see an obviously wealthy, attractive and very thin woman smiling warmly at me. Her eyes darted down to my stomach. Yeah, I knew I hadn’t been proactive losing the baby weight, but a desk job and an infant
did
mean a lot of sitting.

I laughed inwardly to myself before I answered. It was a common question after returning to work. I should have taken six months off and gotten myself a gym membership. I mostly wore black as it was forever a trend in Boston, but the color still didn’t hide my huge belly and ass.

“I just had my baby three months ago,” I admitted and quickly turned back to the counter. An uncomfortable cough, which also sounded like a grunt, came from behind us. Obviously, someone else had heard our exchange and that was a bit embarrassing.  I turned to give the person a sympathetic smile except that smile turned into an obnoxious jaw-dropping ogle. The hottest man on the east coast casually stood with his eyes focused on me and a sparkle in his expression.

He had spiky dark brown hair with perfect side burns, penetrating dark blue eyes, and a tan that he obviously didn’t acquire in Boston. His broad shoulders filled out his white collared shirt, and of course, it was unbuttoned at the top.
Good lord.
  I squirmed under his inspection of my face and immediately came back down to earth. I am pretty sure I recovered in a normal amount of time.

I flashed an awkward half smile/half muscle twitch at him and looked down to the ground as I did an about face. My mouth was salivating and drool was starting to form inside my bottom lip. I turned to the cashier and gave her my usual order in a high pitched, nervous tone. I should have called it in first.  That had rated as one of the most awkward moments in the history of Lizzie O’Malley’s twenty four years.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” The woman’s expression was priceless. Horrified combined with confusion was probably one of my favorite expressions on the pretentious people of Boston. Yeah, life must be rough when you are rich and can insult the bottom feeders. I didn’t demonstrate my thoughts because the poor woman did mean well to some degree.

I waved my hand at her and smiled back with a faint blush. Lord only knew my blush was because of the male embodiment of perfection who was standing behind me and not because of her inappropriate question. I handed over my credit card and turned again to face the woman.

“No worries. It happens a lot. One lady told me yesterday I should start an all kale diet to get rid of the baby fat,” I laughed. “All kale? Really?” I twisted my lips in disgust.

“Oh, I went on that diet! I lost twenty pounds in a week!” She beamed. The woman couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds.

After a long pause and a slight blank nod on my behalf because I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say to that, I walked down the line and stood to wait with the others to collect my food. The tall, dark and handsome man, who I decided in that moment to call “RDJ” because seriously he was a buff version of Robert Downey Jr., slyly positioned himself right behind me. Several patrons including RDJ and I stood in impatient silence waiting to hear our names called.

The typical Bostonian lunch routine was to grab that lunch in a to-go bag and head back to the office. Not only did it look good to management but most workers would rather type and eat simultaneously. Beantown was a
go go go
city therefore many natives forgot to take a look around at the beautiful block parks and the latest clothing fashion in the market windows. Actually, maybe they did and I was just talking about myself. I sighed and looked down at my cell phone. Normally, I would call my mom to ask how Niall was doing, expecting a detailed report but I had done that three times in four hours already. Again, I inwardly cursed myself out for being back at work so soon. I was distracted.

I wanted so much to be home with my sweet little boy but money didn’t grow on trees for me, like it did for some women in this bistro who shall not be referred to.
  I tried to convince myself that babies were lazy creatures and I wasn’t missing anything. I pictured Niall lying in his bassinet and my mother fussing over him. No, I didn’t need to call again.
Nights and weekends
, I reminded myself. Those were my quality times with him and I made the most out of that time together. I smiled at the idea of seeing him tonight and kissing his chubby cheeks.

“Lizzie?” A magnificent voice interrupted my smile. The accent was southern rich and soothing. I tingled at just the thought of that voice behind me anywhere but in this sandwich shop. I would turn around to ask him to say my name again and then respond with something incredibly sexy in my most seductive voice. In that moment, I didn’t know what that sexy something was but it would be hot and he would like it.

I twisted my head around and gave him a quizzical look. Did I give him my name? No, I didn’t. Clearly seeing my confusion, he motioned to the pickup counter. “Your order is ready. I think they just called your name,” he informed me with a smile.

An explosion of nerves suddenly struck me and almost made me ditch my lunch and run away. “Oh… shit, thanks.” I threw myself up to the counter in record speed. Damn, I had been in my head about babies and cheeks and then sex talk. Seriously, getting turned on by a person’s voice was so not like me. The guy didn’t even have to touch me and I was hallucinating porn scenes.
Get your head out of the gutter, Lizzie.

I know I had been making weird mistakes since I got back to the world of the living but this lunch hour topped the socially inept category. Three months of shitty diapers, eating and sleeping made all of life’s little details extremely
overwhelming. I needed to learn how to separate my two lives. Having two worlds collide obviously wasn’t working soundly. At home, I stressed about work. At work, I worried about home.

TWO

I looked down at the tray the lady handed over to me and frowned. I swear I had asked for a to-go bag. No, I was too into Mr. RDJ behind me at the place order station so I never specified. Looking at the tray and then back to the busy counter, I forced my confident mask on and took in my options. Hopefully I didn’t look like I had misplaced my spine.  Instead of asking them to give me the to go bag I originally wanted, I took the tray and held my head up high, like this didn’t just suck ass. Yes, I liked to sit and people watch sometimes. Okay, I never liked to sit and people watch but I figured it would make me feel more comfortable than walking back up and waiting in line so a stressed out girl could bag my food.

Of course, I was eating alone now and that was slightly discomforting. I didn’t care if I was alone. Okay now I am perpetually lying to myself.
Am I a pathological liar if I only lie to myself?
Daily reality check! 
I was alone
. I looked around the restaurant and saw an empty double table and dashed for the rare spot. I threw down my tray, grabbed a financial magazine out of my gigantic purse, and sat down. I looked out at the gray day and the business suits crawling down Pearl Street as I pulled the straw out of its wrapper.

“Mind if I sit?” RDJ’s southern porn star voice startled me from my window gazing. I looked up to see the white shirt, then a sandwich bag, then broad shoulders then,
holy shit
, the beautiful man with the penetrating blue eyes from the line. RDJ gave me a half smile and I blushed. Damn my fair skin.
Damn. Damn.

“I am not a stalker or anything. Clearly, you might want to be alone.” He motioned to the magazine and with a hopeful look explained further. “I am not in a real rush to get back to work right now and well, this is the only open seat.” He looked around the deli and then smiled back down at me.

“Um, yeah. Sure.” I pulled my tray and magazine closer to me, as he pulled out his chair to sit. “Sorry about swearing up there. My friend does always tell me that swearing is caring.”

I laughed at myself until I realized that he was just sitting there studying me. He wanted to sit with me but he wasn’t going to talk? Maybe that wasn’t a funny joke. After a few more awkward moments of him just staring at me, I knew it wasn’t my joke. I agreed to let him take a seat so why were we looking at each other like we didn’t know what the hell was going on?
Awkward
. I waved my hand at him to get his attention and he blinked. Quickly, he pulled out the contents of his bag and I watched with reverie. It might have been the hottest mundane task I’d seen in years.

I rarely went out to lunch with other people unless one of my colleagues or clients was coincidentally present at lunchtime. I occasionally had lunch with Laura, a close friend who worked off High Street but she made a lot more money than I did. She chose expensive sushi places where I balked at my portion of the bill time after time.

More often than not, I begged off her offers with excuses like, “Oh, I am in a meeting” or “Crap, I have a meeting in five minutes” or “Remember I told you about that meeting.” It was the only excuse I had. I think she was catching on because I hadn’t heard from her since I’d been back to work. Did I even tell her I was back in the city? Would it be awful of me to prolong telling her a little but longer? Lunches were expensive with Laura.

Nonetheless, before I left to give birth to Niall, many of my lunches in the spring were taken to the parks. The walks helped with my huge pregnant belly. Summer was unbearable, but now that the glorious fall is here, I am comforted by the soup and warmer clothes. It is my favorite time of year.  Fall is the time to enjoy the new college crowds, the foliage and begin the stages of the upcoming hibernation.  The winters in Boston are about getting in, getting out, and not catching frostbite during the lunch hour.

Just then I realized I was having a conversation with myself and should probably engage with the man sitting across from me. I really tried not to meet his eyes but I felt his stare on me like a laser beam.

“So, what is your name?” I asked nonchalantly.  We needed to at least start with the basics. I quickly glanced at him, skirting my eyes around to see if anyone noticed this crazy weird but fascinating encounter.

“Nick.” He beamed at me, uncapping his soup. Holy shit, Nick was gorgeous when he smiled. I would never have to buy another GQ magazine ever again. The front cover model was having lunch with me. “I am sorry for what that woman said. The filter on some people’s mouths is nonexistent.”

“No biggie, I yelled out the word shit in front of everyone in line.” I shrugged. Nick chuckled and gave me a “touché” look. Good God, all of his expressions were scrumptious.

So, that was apparently was the extent of my motor skills. I sat as still as a statue, feeling out of place and without any conversational skills. Ask me about what to expect when you are having a baby or the most up-to-date annuity rates and I probably wouldn’t shut the hell up. Laid back casual conversation over lunch with a hot man just wasn’t part of who I was anymore, well unless I had alcohol in me. Since I wasn’t drinking any longer, social niceties were a mammoth phobia that was currently kicking my ass.

Nick was soothing to eat with. I wondered if he could sense my low self esteem. I didn’t want him to think I felt awful about myself. I wanted to be different, stronger and a part of this world again. “Do you work around here?” he asked.

I looked up to him from my half sandwich and squinted as I suddenly had a flashback.  Back in the days of happy hour, that was one of the worst come on lines. But this wasn’t happy hour and Nick was most certainly not flirting with me. He knew I just had a baby so he was just being polite.
How very classy of him.

“Actually,” I paused, deciding sarcasm might work to alleviate my nerves, “I work in Portsmouth, but nothing can tear me away from this corn chowdah in the fall.” I gave him an ironic smirk and took another bite of my sandwich. What type of sandwich was this again? It tasted like wood.

His features relaxed into a mischievous grin. “Ah, a true Yankee. Mouthy and sarcastic. Love it. Ya’ll really know how to put people in their place.”

I gawked.
“Yankee? Jesus, don’t say that word so loud,” I teased in a low voice, surveying the restaurant. “You will have all the Red Sox fans burning you at the stake.”

He laughed. God, he was beautiful, that white business shirt and his straight jaw line. His ears were even incredible. I would love to suck on those ears while his side burns tickled my chin
. Good God, did I just think that?
I was begrudgingly feeling the effects of not being with a man in so long. I didn’t expect I would be with anyone anytime soon, although my doctor had given me the go ahead when he put me on the pill the week before. I asked my doctor why I really needed the pill if I wasn’t having sex. He shook his head, wrote the prescription and walked out the door. Clearly, he didn’t know abstinence was the best form of birth control.

Just as I was about to tell him that I liked the way he said ya’ll, he interrupted my cue.

“Lizzie?” he asked. “Do you work?” He lifted his eyebrows, waiting for my response.

“Hmmm?”
I hummed. “Oh, right. Yes, I am a financial advisor on Custom House Street. What about you?” I asked. That’s right. Throw the ball back in his court so I can return to having irrational thoughts about his ears and that sweet, sweet accent. Don’t look at his ears. Look at his eyes. God, no, don’t look at his eyes.

“I am an IT geek at Frost,” he said in a rush, taking a swig of his root beer. “I work on the software there. It’s not all that
difficult of a job. Any cowboy could do it.” Then he winked at me. My blank stare answered his wink.

I nodded again, not knowing what the hell to say to his job description or the wink. He did not look like an IT guy or a geek. “Master of his domain” sounded a bit more fitting.

“So, you aren’t a Bostonian obviously?” I smiled. “Ya’ll and cowboy?”

He slowly shook his head and faintly smiled over his spoon as if he was thinking about his home. “I am from Texas. I came to the North East for the music. Not a big fan of Mexican or country music.”

“Texas, huh? Never been there,” I murmured thoughtfully. I had been to practically every other state in the country. Texas wasn’t ever on my radar. I never had much interest in that state, until now, of course. I’d catch a flight with him within the hour if he asked me to.

“You aren’t missing much.” He replied and took another sip from his spoon.

“Oh, I thought everything is bigger in Texas.” I blushed. I can’t believe I just said that. Gah, I hope he doesn’t think I was talking about his package. Change the subject, Lizzie.

“So, music?
Are you in a band? You know, Robert Downey Jr. knows how to really sing.” I was just getting more and more awesome at this conversation. Clearly, I needed a course in socializing sober.

He considered my statement with an awkward twitch of his upper lip, clearly not knowing what I was talking about. I
didn’t mind his confusion because RDJ’s clone was sitting at the table with me. It
made total sense to me and that was all that mattered.

“Uh, yes.
I have heard he is very talented,” he replied. “I play a little with a local band sometimes. Guitar. But, in all honesty, I love to go and listen to bands. The music scene here is much different than in San Antonio.” One of his eyebrows lifted and he smirked at me, like I should have known that. I didn’t know.
San Antonio equals Alamo equals some people got shot which means they got to keep the place? I was just guessing at that point.

“Do you miss it? Texas? San Antonio, whatever,” I asked, pulling my thighs up to sit on my hands. I was already cold but this interaction was adding on the jitters. I listened to him with my undivided attention.

“I miss the ranch. The food is awfully good there. My momma makes the meanest banana pudding and her barbeque is amazing,” he smiled genuinely. I had nothing to say to that so I just blurted out the next thing I thought of.

“My brother, Conner, is in a band. They play gigs most Friday and Saturday nights here in the city,” I said. I loved bragging about my brother’s band. They really knew how to rock.

“Really? What is their band’s name?” he asked. He leaned over the table and pinned me with the most thoughtful gaze.

“The O’Malley Band,” I stated with confidence. I was super proud of Conner. He was such a great brother and an awesome uncle to Niall. He was already trying to teach a three month old how to play the guitar. He bought a mini version of
one as a present. It’s just too bad the kid can barely hold his head up. “They are up and coming. He writes most of the songs so they aren’t a cover band or anything.”

“Oh, right! I heard them play a few weeks back! They are really good.” He bobbed his head up and down, showing his excitement. “Which one is your brother?”

“Conner.  He is the singer. Conner O’Malley,” I admitted, staring at my soup, which by the way, tasted like newspaper.

He smiled at me for a long time. It was uncomfortable but I just smiled back. I introduced the band to him like they were sitting right there with us.

“Mike is the drummer. Joey is the keyboardist and Jeremy is the bassist. Jeremy and Conner are really close. They write all the songs,” I explained.

And so this impromptu lunch date went on without any awkwardness. Nick and I talked about Conner’s band and Boston, the differences in the people and the work life from Texas. It was enjoyable and Nick kept me talking, so I never felt uncomfortable or out of place. It had been so long since I had a casual conversation with a person of the opposite sex. I giggled a lot and that made me feel like a little teenage girl but what the hell.

This qualified as a lunch date in my book. It was premeditated on both our parts to eat here and we sat together and got to know each other.  Yes, this was a lunch date and Nick was gorgeous. A sudden little twinge in my stomach accompanied that thought. Maybe it was nerves or maybe it was panic but it was abruptly there. Nick was a guy that I had fun talking to. Teagan was a guy I once had fun talking to. I needed to abort. This is not what I wanted. Men break hearts.  Men leave. After I finished the last of my newspaper soup, I started to stand and Nick stood with me as he handed me a business card.

“If you ever have any computer questions or are in need of more southern conversation, give me a call,” he said with a GQ model smile. “Maybe I will see you at one of your brother’s concerts sometime.”

I hesitantly took it and smiled back at him. I pointed to my belly. “Baby isn’t twenty-one yet,” I kidded. I then laughed at myself for the joke again. It was a genuine laugh and I thought about how long it had been since I had actually laughed. Nick was a good guy. I knew that just from him sitting with me but I would never call him. I didn’t need any men in my life, especially gorgeous sexy ones that liked to have conversations. My life was me and Niall. Me and my broken heart. Teagan’s face flashed in my head and I inwardly cringed.

Nick opened the bistro’s door for me. I politely thanked him for his company and we bid farewell. He went right and I went left. I looked back at him to check out his backside as he took his cell phone out of his pocket. It did not disappoint. When he rounded the corner out of my sight, I heaved a sigh and quickly headed back to work.