Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) (7 page)

As if he weren’t wound tight enough.

“Getting over the ex.” He said the words out loud to make sure they were as bad as they’d sounded in his mind. They were. “Too bad.”

“I’m telling you because I—I don’t want anyone to get more hurt. I remember that from your profile—you want to meet someone who can be true.” She gazed at him then, and those eyes were swimming. The moisture made them huge, and even brighter. The green had gone from jade to the color of new leaves. He just wanted to keep staring at them to see what they would do next.

“I was pretty sure this Internet dating thing wasn’t for me.” He stood. Reached in the back pocket of his jeans, took out his wallet. Dug a bill out. Caught the bartender’s eye. “Put hers on mine, Manny,” Adam said.

He’d known Manny for years, and right now Manny’s eyebrows had climbed right into his graying hippie hair with surprise that Adam was walking out on such a beauty. He set the twenty down deliberately, smoothed it. “Now I know Internet dating isn’t my thing. Good luck, Zoe. Hope you get over him soon.”

He didn’t look at her again. He turned and walked out, every fiber in his being aching to turn back, every hair on his body raised as if struck by lightning—and the bile of bitterness filling his mouth.

He got in his truck. He found his eyes straying to the swinging doors of the bar, as if she’d chase him out, begging him to stop—and he would have.

Hell, what was wrong with him? He hadn’t had a reaction to a
woman like this in forever—not since that awful crush on Malia Jones in high school. He’d walked around with a boner all day back then and persisted in asking her out until she’d caved. She’d been his girlfriend until halfway through senior year.

He turned the truck on and
threw it into gear. And pulled out, wondering when he’d become so mad at women he’d walk away from one he wanted without even trying to change her mind.

Zoe walked into Dr. Suzuki’s office the next morning. Her head was still thick from the three drinks she’d consumed in rapid succession after the debacle with Adam. She hardly remembered walking home, but she must have and hadn’t, apparently, wandered into traffic.

“How have you been?” Dr. Suzuki asked from her chair as Zoe went to the couch and
lay down on it, propping her head on a throw pillow.

“Hung over, thanks for asking.” Zoe spoke to the ceiling. It was easier
than seeing the psychologist’s sharp eyes. “I don’t drink much, but I had three strong ones last night and forgot to eat.”

“What brought that on?”

“A bad date. A crazy bad blind date.” Zoe felt tears welling up. She dashed them off her cheeks. “I really liked the guy. I didn’t want to fake him out with the research article. But when I went to tell him I was a journalist, I chickened out and told him I was hung up on my ex instead.”

“What did he do?”

“He wished me luck, paid for my drink, and walked out.” The tears spilled. Dr. Suzuki passed over a box of tissues. Zoe pulled some out, patted her face with them, and honked her nose. “So much for being true.”

She told Dr. Suzuki about Adam, his tool belt and architecture degree, and quoted his profile.

“So when I recognized him, I felt something. Like, this sizzle. It was amazing. And I wanted it to be real. And he left.” Only, the last sentence came out more like, “And, he—he—he left” on hiccupping sobs. “He left. Like they all do.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Suzuki said. “Maybe this guy had problems of his own. Maybe he just wasn’t ready for anything, either.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s done. It’s over before it started. I haven’t had chemistry like that… since high school.” Zoe honked her nose again. She built a little pyramid of balled-up tissues on her stomach. “I don’t think I can finish this story.”

“Don’t you think
it’s been a good thing to find out you can still have that kind of chemistry with someone?”

This was a new idea. Zoe bit her lip and rearranged the tissue balls into a square. “I guess. But to have it just end—I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. And
then there was the other guy. I really hurt him, I think.” She told about the misunderstanding with Philip. “I don’t like hurting people.”

“Things happen. You aren’t responsible for all of it. And I don’t see that it was necessary for Philip to call you a bitch.”

The unexpected forcefulness had Zoe glancing up at Dr. Suzuki. There was a line between the psychologist’s precise brows.

“Okay. Philip did have a fleur-de-lis in his beard.” Zoe felt helpless giggles rising up from deep inside, and she laughed as hard as she’d cried. “This is as bad as when I was on those hormones getting ready for in vitro.”

She sat up, did a final nose honk. “I guess I just didn’t expect Adam to just walk off like that.”

“As a psychologist, I see it more
than most. People have a lot more going on than initially meets the eye. A healthy psyche doesn’t take rejection to heart. You offered him what you could in an attempt to make a genuine connection. If he rejected that, it was for his own reasons.” Dr. Suzuki’s dark eyes sparkled with conviction. “Now, what’s next for your article?”

“Oh God. I hate that article.” Zoe sighed. “At least I have it outlined. Need to do more research on the stats of success and failure, et cetera, and I think I’ll leave this awful aborted meeting out entirely—though Philip almost preempting my date is kind of a twist that’s worth mentioning.”

“Okay, homework. I want you to get into your profile and consider being honest. Put yourself out there. You met a man you were willing to date. You learned something from this. You learned you can still meet someone and have chemistry with them. If you can do that with Adam, you can do it with someone else.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but I’ll think about it.” Zoe stood up. “Thanks, Dr. Suzuki. I needed to hear that.”

“Yes, you did. I’ll see you a little later in the week. Consider what I said—going honest on your profile, disclosing the article you’re writing. You might find there are still plenty of men willing to go out with you, even knowing about it.”

“Okay.” Zoe stepped out the door, picked up her shoes. “See you soon.”

She slid her feet into her shoes and walked out to the car. Her head still felt muzzy from drinking and all that crying and laughing, but the tight, bruised, about-to-burst feeling was gone.

Thank God. She got into her little VW Bug, parked in the shade with windows halfway down because Sylvester was waiting for her, paws on the dash, his tongue hanging out and whole hind end wagging with excitement to see her, as if she’d been gone for days instead of just fifty minutes. Now, to drink a bottle of water, go home to take a nap, and start the day over.

Adam combed his hair with his fingers in the truck before his meeting
with Dr. Suzuki over his lunch break. He’d gone back to the job site that morning, deciding to act like nothing had happened the day before with Boss Lady—perhaps if he pretended nothing was wrong, she’d want to save face and wouldn’t act on her threats.

All was normal on the job
site. Bobby, his second cousin and decent framer but a great drywaller, reported that Boss Lady had come out of his trailer after he’d roared out yesterday and announced that she’d sent Adam off on a special errand but that he’d be back the next morning.

“So what was really going on?” Bobby asked, frowning.

“Yeah, I had to go on special assignment,” Adam said, rolling with it. If she’d decided to handle it that way, so much the better. He hoped it meant she was going to leave him alone. “What did you get done yesterday?”

They’d gone on as usual, and to Adam’s relief, Alixia Lepler didn’t visit the job
site. If she was gearing up her machinery to fire him, at least he would do everything he could to make it hard for her to show any wrongdoing.

He got out of the truck and dusted down his work shirt and pants and took off his boots, replacing them with rubber slippers before he walked up the little pathway to Dr. Suzuki’s cottage office with
its little porch.

“Hey, Doc.” He put his slippers on the rack and came into the office. He’d brought his lunch. Yesterday, after a morning in bed with what Charl called “the vapors,” Kalia Rodrigues had gotten up and carried on as usual. This morning, she’d packed two homemade musubi, a thermos of his favorite juice drink, and an apple. “Is it okay if I eat while we talk? I have to be back at the job
site in an hour.”

“Sure, Adam. How’re you doing?”

“Shitty.” He gave a little bark of laughter as he sat on the couch and opened the lunch box. “I’m not fired today, but I could well be. I had a total showdown with Boss Lady.”

He described the confrontation with Alixia Lepler. “On top of that, my mom really wanted me to get together with my cousin Tami. When I told her that wasn’t happening, she sort of had a spell. My sister came over to take care of her, and we think she’s okay, but she’s not feeling well lately.”

He unwrapped one of the musubi, a square of compacted white rice topped by a rectangle of fried spam wrapped in nori, pounded dried seaweed. He ate it in a few quick hard bites.

Dr. Suzuki flipped
through her notes. “Wow, that’s a lot in two days. Anything else going on before we dive into these things?”

“Yeah. I took
your advice about trying Internet dating.” The rice seemed to choke him as he remembered eyes, leaf green with tears. He picked up his thermos and drank.

“Hmm.
Seems like there’s a story there.” Dr. Suzuki took more notes. “Where do you want to start?”

“How about with Boss Lady? She pissed me off so bad I almost hit her.” Adam felt remembered rage flush
through his body.

“Okay, stop.” Dr. Suzuki’s voice was a whipcrack, bringing him up short. “First of all, no one ‘makes you mad.’ Don’t give away
your power. Own your emotion—you felt so angry you wanted to hit her.”

“Okay.” This was a new idea, and Adam let it settle in. “But I’d argue anyone would have been angry with being blackmailed.” He described his conversation with Alixia Lepler.

“Did you try the breathing I showed you?”

“Yeah. Actually,
it’s really been helpful several times. I told her to burn in hell, walked out, and spent the morning surfing until I felt ready to go home and deal with my mother. By then Mama was feeling a little better, had gotten out of bed. Charl was glad to take the baby and go home. Then I had my date.”

“Okay. We have a lot to cover here, but let’s start with Mrs. Lepler. I want you to take some steps to protect yourself. Next time she proposes something, I want you to try to record her. You don’t know what she’s going to do. In my experience, some of these narcissistic, sadistic types enjoy the game; they don’t mind who they hurt. They get off on it.”

“Yeah, that’s her. It made her hot to try to get me literally on my knees.” Adam’s fists bunched.

“Do
your breathing.” She led him through a couple, and he sat back on the couch.

“Damn. Here’s the thing—I think I’m so mad at my ex, at Alixia Lepler, that it made me throw this other
woman over.”

“Okay, stop
there.” Dr. Suzuki caught his eye. She’d drawn her finely marked brows together in the slight scrunch that passed for a frown. “I am going to keep stopping you when I hear you using externalizing language. The language we use defines our reality, and I’m going to assume you can keep up with me when I say that.”

“Of
course.” His pride pricked, Adam frowned back. “Externalizing language. Explain.”

“You give away
your power and blame others when you say things like “she made me.” No one makes anyone do anything. We all have free will; we all make choices. I want to hear you reframe that comment into owning your emotions and your choices. Trust me. It takes some work, but you’ll begin to feel more in control of your anger when you stop blaming others.”

“Honestly? I didn’t know I was doing that.” Adam felt defensive but decided her comments had potential. He stared at the ceiling, thinking of how to phrase his thoughts. “Okay. Here goes. I’ve felt so angry with Mrs. Lepler’s behavior toward me, and with my ex for her choices, that I’ve become suspicious and maybe a little bit overreactive.” He was satisfied with this summary. “So when I met this
woman on my first Internet date and we had this amazing chemistry—I mean amazing—I just…” He sat forward, his face in his hands. Shook his head. “It freaked me out. Then she told me something that made it easy for me to walk away.”

“What did she tell you?”

“She said she liked me and remembered I said I wanted honesty. She told me she wasn’t ready to date and was still hung up on her ex.”

Dr. Suzuki shook her head, her eyes down, and made a note on her pad. Adam felt anger washing over the hurt of rejection as he remembered Zoe’s words. “She wasted my time, and so did the idea of Internet dating.”

Dr. Suzuki held up a hand, and he stopped. “Do your breathing.”

He did. He settled back on the couch.

“Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, you felt chemistry with this woman.” Dr. Suzuki’s eyes narrowed. “She had noticed you enough to remember what you said you were searching for in your profile. Then she told you something that felt like rejection.”

“I guess.” He picked up his thermos and took a sip to buy time.

“Right. So it seems like she pushed a button with you, and you took the coward’s way out and walked away.”

“Damn, Dr. Suzuki.
You’re on me like white on rice!” Adam exclaimed.

“Let’s both take a breath.” They did. Dr. Suzuki leaned toward him. “I don’t think
you’re noticing the nuances of your feelings—you’re only noticing and feeling anger, and that means you’ve got only one shade of reaction to everything right now—and it’s red.”

“Could be. But I don’t see how accepting what the
woman said, that she wasn’t ready to date, was taking the coward’s way out.”

“Did she really
seem like she didn’t want to get to know you?”

He thought back to her eyes shining with tears, her halting and conflicted comments. “I think she was as freaked out as I was.”

“So, what else could you have done?”

“Been nice. Kept the door open.” Adam closed his eyes, imagining finishing his drink as they talked, being able to watch those green eyes to see if they changed color again. Leaving the bar on a cordial note with the possibility of calling her, at least. As it was, he didn’t even know her last name, let alone have her number. He felt a little sick at the missed opportunity.

“Right. Okay, listen. Yes, I am being hard on you. But it’s because I care about you and believe you’re someone who can grow and change in a pretty short time. This week, I want you to stop and really notice whenever you have any kind of strong feeling and identify what it is and, hopefully, where it’s originating. Did you do athletics in school?”

“Yeah. Football in high school and college.”