Hallie exited out of the spreadsheet and glanced at the time: four thirty.
She’d worn date clothes to work that day, because she was meeting Alex for drinks and appetizers as soon as she logged out. She and Jack had gone out on two more meh dates that ended with them at Taco Hut, but after the last one, she’d started talking to a guy named Alex, and he seemed surprisingly promising.
He was an adorable blond real estate agent who was actually fun to text; witty and quick, just like Jack.
And when he’d called her, there had been flirty chemistry over the phone.
“Hallie.” Claire, the new receptionist, popped her head into Hallie’s office and said, “There’s a Ruthie Someone here to see you.”
“Oh, shit.”
The receptionist looked concerned. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to—”
“No, no, it’s a me thing, Claire. Can you please send her back?”
“Sure thing.”
Hallie breathed in deeply through her nose, and before she could even think, Ruthie ran into her office, closed the door behind her, and sat down in the guest chair. “What in the actual fuck, Hal?”
Ruthie didn’t look mad, or even sad. She looked . . . confused, maybe? She was wearing a long black dress, paired with a captain’s hat and red glasses—glasses through which she peered at Hallie.
Hallie tried to come up with good words. “Ruthie, I wanted to talk to you before you saw—”
“That all of your stuff is gone? Too late, bruh. I can’t believe you moved out.”
“Okay, here’s the thing—” Hallie started.
“It’s because of my allergies, isn’t it?”
“What?”
Ruthie said, “I know that you want a cat, Hallie.”
Hallie’s mouth snapped shut. She’d wanted a cat for a hot minute after splitting with Ben, but she’d literally never given it a thought since. “Oh, Ruthie, I don’t—”
“I get it, but can I at least go with you to pick it out?”
Hallie didn’t even know what to say. Except, “What?”
“Because I’ve always wanted a cat, too. If I were you, I would absolutely move out, too, if it meant that I could have one. But since I can’t, can I at least take a shit ton of allergy meds and tag along?”
“Um—”
“Oh, God.” Ruthie’s eyes got huge. “Was it something else? Was there some other reason that you’re moving out?”
“No, um, it’s just the, uh, the cat thing.”
“So you’re seriously going to the shelter with her tomorrow?”
Hallie grinned and raised her glass. “To cowardice.”
Alex raised his, as well, and said, “To cowardice. And cats.”
Hallie giggled; she was having a great time. She and Alex had downed a plate of nachos and were starting on mozzarella sticks, and they were both still having fun. She couldn’t believe it, but things felt kind of promising with him.
“I need to look up good cat names,” Hallie said.
“What about Whiskers?” Alex asked.
“Cliché.”
“Garfield?” he suggested.
“Tired.”
“Ann-Margret?”
Hallie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “Now you’re talking.”
They spent the next ten minutes laughing as Alex googled terrible cat names. She excused herself to go to the restroom, and the minute she entered the hallway, she turned and waited for Jack.
Who did not disappoint.
He came around the corner, wearing his usual sarcastic smile. He looked really good in his black sweater vest, white button-down, and black pants, she thought.
He was a very well-dressed dater.
“So . . . ?” he asked, the scent of his expensive-but-subtle cologne finding her nose.
“So I’m actually having a great time.”
“Shut your face.” His eyebrows slammed together and his eyes moved all over her face, like he was searching for the answer. “For real?”
“I cannot believe it myself. Alex is cute, hilarious, and really, really fun. You would like him.”
He rolled his eyes. “Doubt it.”
“How about you? How are things with Kayla?” His date was a stunning PhD candidate who looked like she could be Zendaya’s older sister. Hallie wanted to vomit when she’d seen them together—they looked like a celebrity couple—so she was guessing Jack was pleased. “No ick yet?”
He swallowed and just said, “Not yet.”
Hallie leaned her face in a little closer, and she saw him sniff. She wondered if her perfume was too strong as she said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Jack, but I want to scratch the escape plan.”
“I mean,” he said, his face unreadable as he shrugged, “it’s still early. There’s plenty of time—”
“No, I’m serious. I can tell. No need for tacos.” Hallie knew she was beaming like a fool, but she couldn’t help it. She was actually having a good date for once, so she felt like jumping up and down. “Like, I don’t want dinner to end—it’s that good.”
Jack gave her a wink and said, “Someone’s moving in on that vacation.”
“Your lips to Ditka’s ears,” she said, winking back at him before going into the ladies’ room.
Jack
“So then I was stuck in the lab for the entire weekend.”
He smiled at his date as he reached for his water. “Not exactly what you’d planned, eh?”
“Not at all.” Kayla grinned and launched back into the story, but Jack was distracted by the table behind her.
Hallie was laughing and smiling at her date like she wanted to eat him whole. There is no way that guy can be that funny. No way. But every time she laughed, it was like the noise found his ears; he couldn’t not hear it. And the way her red lips turned up when she smiled—didn’t she know the message she was sending? The guy was going to think he had her, for God’s sake, just by the flirty grin she was giving him.
Jack genuinely wanted Hal to find someone, but this guy was not it. His hair had so much product in it he’d probably combust if he walked too close to an open flame, and there was something about the way he looked at Hallie that was creepy.
Just looking at the guy as he shit-grinned at her made him annoyed as hell.
And the dude was wearing Chuck Taylors with a blazer; did he think he was a fucking talk show host?
“So to make a long story short, they shut down the college and arrested the dude.” Kayla tucked her hair behind her ears and said, “Can you even believe that?”
“No,” he said, feeling like shit for zoning out. He wasn’t an asshole, and Kayla deserved his full attention on their date, whether they had a connection or not.
“It was absolutely bonk—” Her phone started ringing, and when she looked down at the display she said, “I need to take this—it’s my roommate. Will you excuse me for a second?”
“Of course,” Jack said, wondering if it was a bailout call. He pretty much assumed everyone on a first date employed one, so he had no ill will if that’s what it was.
But the minute she stepped away, he pulled out his phone.
He texted: You sure about no tacos, TB?
He hit send.
And . . . wait. He watched Hallie glance down at her phone, read the message, then put her phone back in her pocket without responding.
She ignored his text.
Seriously?
For reasons he couldn’t explain, that bothered him. A lot. Where was his partner in crime? Was their alliance no longer a thing now that she’d landed a date she considered decent? He felt a little kicked to the side as she went about her date like she didn’t even know him.
Kayla returned to the table, and Jack managed to have a nice dinner with her. She was sweet and smart and funny, and he couldn’t find a single thing wrong with her.
So why was he in a hurry to finish the date?
He could tell she wanted him to kiss her when he walked her to her car, but he wasn’t feeling it and didn’t want to be fake. He told her he’d call her, and he went home.
Irritated as fuck and entirely unsettled by the blond creep.
He waited a few hours, and at midnight finally gave in to his urges.
Jack: Did you make it home okay?
Hallie: Ohmigod Jack I wanted to text you but I was afraid you were railing the PhD candidate or at home sleeping!
Jack: I’m doing both. What’s up?
Hallie: So dinner was great, and then he walked me home. He was super chatty and there was zero awkwardness, and then HE KISSED ME.
Jack: And . . . ?
Hallie: AHHHMAZING!!! He did the little face hold thing and I was done for. Small amount of tongue but not too much. It was kiss perfection.
Jack: That seems kind of forward, doesn’t it?
Hallie: What? Kissing on the first date? Are you a puritan now?
Jack: I just mean you don’t even really know the guy.
Hallie: I do, too. He’s in real estate, plays slow-pitch softball, his favorite color is salmon, and he likes getting railed.
His favorite color was fucking salmon?
Jack: Sounds like a dipshit.
Hallie: I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.
Jack didn’t know why, but her words made him feel guilty of something. He texted: What do you mean?
Hallie: You want to win the bet, so you’re trying to sabotage the first good match I’ve had.
Jack: What’s his name again?
Hallie: Alex Anderson.
Jack: I’m looking him up.
Hallie: What? Don’t. Don’t do anything stupid.
Jack: I’m not. Just googling Mr. AA.
Hallie: Did you do any googling with Dr. Gorgeous?
Jack: I left her at her car and walked home all alone because you ditched me.
Hallie: We probably needed a break from Taco Hut anyway. I’ve gained a pound since we started our arrangement.
Jack: You look great—don’t give up.
Hallie: Hey. Do you want to go with me and Ruthie to find a cat tomorrow?
Jack: First of all, what the fuck—a cat? Second, you still haven’t told her?
Hallie: I’m calling you now.
His phone rang, and he raised it to his ear as he leaned back against the headboard and watched SportsCenter. “Hey, Piper.”
“So Ruthie showed up at my office today, wondering where my stuff had gone.”
“Oh, snap.”
“Right?”
Jack listened as she launched into a rambling story about her weird roommate and pet adoption. Something about the way Hallie told the story reminded him of the way she’d been in the kitchen of the hotel the night of the wedding.
Bossy, self-deprecating, funny, and charming as fuck.
“So we’re going right at eight before work to adopt a cat. Ruthie is a lot, so I was hoping you’d want to join us. Be the sane one in our cat-grabbing trio.”
“Maybe you should ask Alex,” he said, then immediately regretted it.
“I don’t want my pet to be affiliated with a potential love interest,” she said, and he thought she sounded sleepy. Her voice was just a little deeper, a smidge quieter, than usual. She said, “It could make things very complicated. I’d rather pick out my cat with my friends so there will be no ill cat will if I break his heart or vice versa.”
He said, “I can’t believe you’re getting a cat to avoid upsetting her.”
“Small price, really.”
That made him laugh because it was so ridiculous. “A pet that you have to feed and clean up after, till death do you part, is a small price?”
“I always wanted a cat.” He could almost hear her shrug when she said, “And if you can handle having a cat, I’m certain I can.”
Jack looked down at Meowgi, asleep on his lap.
“Fine,” he said, not hating the idea of hanging with Hallie before work. He always got up at five thirty to run, so he would’ve been up early, regardless. “I’ll pick you up at seven. I need coffee before this whole thing.”
“You delightful boy,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I’ll have Ruthie meet us at the shelter, because you don’t want her riding in your car. It’s impossible to get the smell out.”
“Oh, God,” he said, so curious about her former roommate. “What smell?”
“It’s like a mix between patchouli, onions, and vanilla.”
“Care to explain?”
“I can’t.” It sounded like she was moving around when she said, “She’s smelled like that since the day I met her. And I know for a fact that she takes at least three showers a day, so it isn’t body odor.”
“I am terrified and thrilled to finally meet your Ruthie.”
“I am thrilled and terrified, as well. Sweet dreams, Jack.”
“Sweet dreams to you, TB.”
