Unlucky In Love (5 page)

J’Austen purred as I
swung,
but then flinched when I suddenly stopped the
back-and-forth motion, slamming both of my feet to the floor. “Are
you kidding me?” I’d put up with several of the writer’s silly
ramblings, but the last scene had done me in.

If I were reading a paperback, I would have
thrown the book into the pool. But the Kindle had cost me a hundred
bucks. That was almost a week’s groceries. But the
ereader
did make receiving and transporting books easier.
Whether I was in the school car line or at one of Eric’s events, I
always had a new book. I never had to worry about finishing one
story and not having another one to start. Or, if it
was
like this book, where there was no way I’d ever
finish it, I could jump right into the next book on my Kindle.

I liked fantasy, but I wasn’t willing to
suspend my beliefs or check my intelligence at the door to read a
book that wasn’t even classified as paranormal. Nor was I a cop,
but I knew enough about the justice system to know that no court
would allow what this author wanted me to believe.

“
Next …”
I told J’Austen as I flipped
through the Kindle. “That title is a DNF, baby.”

J’Austen stared at me through her golden
eyes.

“It means
Did Not Finish
, which means
I won’t review it.” I didn’t feel right reviewing a book that I
didn’t finish, which meant that I pretty much didn’t review books
unless they were worthy of more than a three-star review. After
all, who wants to read a book that
isn’t, at
least,
three stars? So
why
bother
writing a review? That was my philosophy anyway. I wanted people to
want to buy the books I posted on my website.

My kitty yawned, letting me know she
couldn’t care less.

“Fine. Want to hear about my date,
then?”

She rolled over and covered her eyes with
her paw.

“Guess not! Hey, you’re supposed to be a
good listener.” I scratched her behind her right ear as she always
liked. J’Austen
was
a good listener. Unless it was naptime,
which for her was
three-quarters
of the
day.

I’d call Angela, but she had enough things
to worry about. The last thing she needed was to hear about what a
worm
Mr. Teller
turned out to be. When he’d mentioned
coffee–
or somethin
g–I didn’t know that the
or
something
was all he was really interested in. And for some
reason, he seemed shocked that I didn’t want to go back to his
place for a quick roll in the sack. He’d sounded so shocked at my
repulsion that I started to wonder how many thirty-some-year-olds
were into that.

Not that he’d even
waited
to get to a house; he practically tried to undress
me outside the coffee shop.

Had I looked desperate?
Ugh!
That’s
the last thing I needed in my life.

And worse, now I’d have to change banks.

Note to self
, I thought silently, so
as not to disturb baby kitty:
Never date a man who you’ll have
to run into if it doesn’t work out, which meant the bank, Eric’s
school or events, and the bookstore were all off-limits. And the
library
…

The library
… I hadn’t been back
since
Media Man
had made a play for me. And truthfully, I
didn’t have to go to
that
library. Although, I did miss
Mak.

Maybe I should go see Makeda tomorrow.
Around lunch time. Now that I had my Kindle, the library wasn’t
off-limits.

Which meant
Mr. Forgetful
wasn’t
off-limits. All I had to remember was that I didn’t want to look
desperate. Which I wasn’t. Not yet anyway.

***

The following morning, I took an extra-long
time getting ready to take Eric to school. I’d meticulously
blow-dried and straightened my hair and opted to wear a light
sweater over a pair of the nicest jeans I owned instead of my
ever-present T-shirt and favorite pair of faded jeans. I even
slapped on a touch of powder and mascara.

“Wow!” Eric said, fanning his hand in front
of his face. “Coach was right.”

“Excuse me?” I asked as I jumped into the
passenger side of my Tacoma, allowing Eric to drive. He’d gotten
his permit a few months ago, but I’d only recently allowed him to
get behind the wheel of my baby while we were on an actual road. I
loved my vehicle. It was just the right size, and I didn’t need to
borrow or rent a truck when I wanted to pick up something from Home
Depot. The last thing I needed was for Eric to total it. I was
pretty sure Dick Embers wouldn’t replace my paid-off truck.

Eric shrugged. “Coach said you were one of
the hottest moms in my school. I guess I just don’t see you get
dressed up much anymore. You got a hot date today?”

Coach
… I groaned internally. As
flattering as that was, I hated that he’d told my fifteen-year-old
son that I was hot. I knew there was a reason I’d marked him as
off-limits.

“No,” I said, “I’m just heading to the
library, and thought I should care about my appearance when I go
out in public.”

“You never did before.”

“Eric!” I smacked his leg since I didn’t
want to hit the hand that was on the steering wheel. “That’s not
true. Just because I don’t dress up and put on makeup every time I
run to the grocery store doesn’t mean I don’t care about my
appearance.
At least
I don’t go out in public
wearing curlers and slippers. I saw a woman dressed like that last
week.”

“Ewww …” Eric cringed. “Really?”

“Yeah. Anyway, no, I don’t have a date. I’m
just heading to the library. But, you never know.”

Eric put the truck into
park
once he made it to the front of the car line, but
didn’t get out. “You
don’t
ever know, Mom. You deserve
someone who’ll treat you well. But … be careful, okay? There’re a
lot of scary people out there.”

I reached across the center console and
kissed him on the head. “Thank you, sweetheart. I will.”

We both hopped out and ran
around
the truck at the same time, looking like circus
clowns. Me, to the driver’s side. Eric, to the school.

“See you tonight,” I called as a goodbye,
but also checking that I remembered that he had drama practice
directly after school.

“Yep, pick me up around six today, please.”
He stopped. “And, Mom, I was just
messin’
with
you. You always look great. Love you!” He turned and jogged off
toward the building.

I
smiled,
but then
jumped back inside the cab, realizing I couldn’t
bask
in
the moment more than a second before the horns started
blaring behind me.

I ran all my errands early, including
finding a new bank, which was something I’d wanted to do
anyway
since that’s where Dick banked as well.
I didn’t want some pretty young thing sharing any of my information
with Dick Embers, and I certainly didn’t want to run into my
ex-husband.

According to Eric, Dick had finally moved
his new
baby mama
in with him, so maybe he’d stop calling
me. She had to be pretty far along now, so I was certain that she
wouldn’t condone him trying to get his ex-wife back. I really
couldn’t understand it. If he loved me so much, why had he felt the
need to sleep with another woman? Not that there was any excuse for
a man cheating on his wife, but if I’d been cold, bitchy, or didn’t
take care of myself, I might understand a little bit, but I was
none of those things.

Giving my head a firm shake, I turned the
key in the ignition and shifted the vehicle into drive. Next stop,
the library.

As always, Mak greeted me with a smile. And
I was pretty sure if she hadn’t been behind the counter, she would
have given me a hug too. “Hey, girl! It’s been forever. Where’ve
you been? I’ve
wanted
to say thank you. Those
reviews were perfect. Absolutely perfect. And I saw a rise in my
Kindle sales.”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly. I’d never
spoken with someone for whom I’d written a review. If I tagged
authors in a post, they usually said thanks, but this was
different. I felt … appreciated.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I only wrote the
truth. The series was great. I could hardly put the books
down.”

Makeda smiled. “Well, thank you. And hey, I
haven’t been keeping books behind the counter, since you haven’t
been stopping in as much, but
there are
some
new ones I just put out today. Take a look, there are a couple of
good ones.”

“Thanks, Mak. I’ll go take a peek.”

I headed off toward where I knew the new
releases were, and within minutes, I was absorbed in a new story.
Amazing how I hadn’t found the time to read all these years. In
college, even when I was studying for an exam, I’d found the time
to read a book or two a week. But, as with everything else in my
life, I’d given up the things I loved to take care of my husband,
child, and the house. Not that that had been a bad thing. I’d loved
being a homemaker. But if Dick had been interested in just one of
the things I’d loved, we could have done it together. Sadly, Dick
only liked to play golf, and when I’d asked if I could learn, he’d
not been happy. In fact, he’d been upset. He’d said it was the one
thing he had that helped him decompress, his only quiet time.

As always, I’d understood. But now I
wondered why. He worked sixty to seventy hours a week. Why hadn’t
he wanted to be with me on his days off?

“Jana?”

I nearly jumped through the roof. What was
wrong with me? I hooked my finger into the book that I’d stopped
reading about five minutes ago and closed it, then stared up at
Mr. Forgetful
, who hadn’t forgotten my name. That was a good
sign.

“I’m Seth … we met here a couple of
times.”

Had I looked like I didn’t remember who he
was? Or maybe my mouth was hanging open. In the pretense of
scratching my chin, I lifted my hand to my mouth to check that I
wasn’t drooling.
Mr. Forgetful
— Seth — was gorgeous.

“Oh, yeah!” I said. “I know. I was just lost
in this book.”

Seth glanced down at the book. “Must be
pretty good to be so engrossed after only a few pages.”

I followed his gaze. He was right. I
couldn’t have read more than a couple of pages before I started
thinking about my previous life. Oh, well. I was getting better
every day. I was here. That was a start.

I set the book back on the shelf. I had too
many books waiting for me in my Kindle anyway. “So … did you read
Patterson’s new book?”

Seth smiled, then walked to a nearby chair,
looking back as though he wanted me to follow him. Man, he was
smooth. Too smooth?

Seth pulled out a chair for me and then sat
across from me. “After reading your review, I rushed right to the
bookstore. Didn’t even bother taking a chance that it wasn’t
here.”

I resisted rolling my eyes, opting for just
a subtle lift that told him I didn’t buy his act. “You’re teasing
me.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I really
enjoyed your review. And after reading the book, I agreed with
every one of your points.”

Two compliments in one day … three if I
counted Eric’s. I could get used to this.

I leaned back in the chair, though, waiting
for Seth to make his next move. I certainly wasn’t going to ask him
out. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I also read some of your other reviews.
You’re good. So, you review books for a living?”

I nodded, feeling my guard go up, but I
refused to take it personally. I worked hard on my website. It
wasn’t just about reading books. Not only did I have to write out a
thought-provoking review,
but I also had
to
design and market my website. I spent well more than forty hours a
week on my new career. And besides, whoever accused
Siskel and
Ebert
of sitting around and watching movies all day?
Men
could be so inconsiderate sometimes
.

“That’s amazing!” Seth said, surprising me.
“What a wonderful career. I wish I could do that.”

I shook my head to clear it. Clearly, Seth
wasn’t real. “You could.”

“No, I couldn’t. I’m still paying on my
student loans. It’ll be a long time before I can do what I want to
do.”

I rested my chin on my fist. “What do you
want to do?”

“Anything but what I do,” he said
through
a chuckle. “I’m an attorney.
Unfortunately, it’s nothing like I envisioned it would be. After I
read
The Firm
, I decided I wanted to be
a lawyer, even though it hadn’t turned out well for the main
character. I think what I really wanted was to be John
Grisham.”

I laughed. “Being John Grisham is a good
career choice.”

Seth threw his head back. “Yeah … I was
hoping if I became a lawyer, I’d have some interesting cases worth
writing about.”

“Have you?”

He shook his head. “Regrettably, no. Nada!
Mostly just workman’s comp and personal injury claims.”

A career wasn’t like a marriage, so I
wondered, why did people hang on if they weren’t happy? I wasn’t
unhappy in my marriage, but even when I got down or started
questioning where my husband was, I knew I couldn’t just quit. But
a job …

“Silly question …” I started. “Since I’m
self-employed, and I’ve never worked a regular career, but I can’t
help but wonder … Why not quit? What’s the worst thing that would
happen?” I shrugged. “Sell your house, pay off your remaining
bills, and live like you did in college. Not in a frat house,” I
laughed, “but what are you working toward?”

Seth dropped his shoulders. “I don’t know.
Nothing. I think you’re right.”