The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series (16 page)

Josie:
Hahaha!
 

Delaney:
What do I do?

Josie:
Back to the table, sister. Suck it up.
 

Delaney:
But he’s unemployed!
 

Josie:
And you’re a bartender.
 

Delaney:
I need a second opinion. Where’s Summer?
 

Summer:
She’s barfing her brains out.
 

Delaney:
Oh, I’m sorry, Summer. I forgot. Late first trimester. Gets you every time. You can ignore this, then.

Summer:
Oh, I’m not ignoring it. Back to the table, sister. Suck it up.
 

Delaney:
Fine.
 

She’d always liked The Blue Fish, Delaney thought as she walked back through the dining room. Hand-painted Mexican tiles on the tabletops and pottery in festive colors on wooden shelves along the brick walls made for a cheerful atmosphere. And she would enjoy it tonight, she promised herself. She had to.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she sat back down across from Mitchell.
 

“It’s okay. You were saying you…”
 

“I tend bar at Rowdy’s. But I’m looking for a new job.”
 

Mitchell threw his head back and chortled.
 

“I wait tables at Eddie’s. I, too, am looking for a new job.”
 

Relief flowed through Delaney, even as she scoured her memory for images of Mitchell at Eddie’s when she’d gone there with Craig ball-and-club Densmore.
 

“Really?” she said.
 

“Really.”
 

“But your profile says you’re a –”
 

“A lawyer, I know. I am, technically. But I’m taking a break right now. It’s false advertising, right? But the thing is, it’s as hard to find a woman as it is find a job in this town.”
 

“Don’t I know it!”
 

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” he said, “let’s eat.”
 

Her inner voice rang a tiny warning bell – “I am, technically.”
Technically?
– but she stilled it. Over a huge plate of nachos, they eyeballed the other patrons at The Blue Fish, guessing what they’d order.
 

“Name her drink,” Mitchell said, pointing a tortilla chip at a woman who was wearing a navy suit with a red scarf.
 

“White wine. Something sweet, though. Riesling, I think.”
 

“And to eat, Pollo Fundido. No finger food for that lady.”
 

“Him.”
 

“Overalls, dirty boots, dirty fingernails? Corona. With lime and a Cuervo sidecar.”
 

“Fish tacos.”
 

“Those two, in the corner.”

“Sharing fajitas.”
 

“And Margaritas. See her brand new, pink cowboy boots? Going for a theme night.”
 

When their server, a tall, thin woman with a huge nose, an even bigger chin and bright blue fingernails, came to offer them dessert, they simultaneously said, “Flan, please!”
 

Finally! A normal person! Someone I have something in common with.
 

“So, what do you want to do after this?” Mitchell asked. “We could go bowling.”
 

“I can’t. I have a three-drink limit. I can’t bowl on a three-drink limit.”

“What? A three-drink limit? What’s up with that?”

“Oh. Well, first date, three drinks,” Delaney stammered, realizing she’d almost let it slip about The Dating Intervention. Rule Number One, she reminded herself. Absolutely no revealing my friends are in charge.
 

“You can’t bowl on three drinks or less?” Mitchell said.

“Absolutely not. How about a walk?”
 

“I have an idea. You game?”
 

***

The stars glinted, winking down at Delaney and Mitchell as they lay on their backs, staring at the sky. Now that the sun had slipped behind the mountains, the spring air felt chilly and damp.
 

When they left The Blue Fish, Mitchell grabbed Delaney’s hand and practically jogged to his Altima. She had to climb in from the driver’s side because the passenger door was permanently locked, but she didn’t let it bother her. She considered it a mark of character.
 

“You’re gonna love this,” he promised as the car choked to life.
 

They’d driven out Governor’s Highway, rising high above downtown on the serpentine road until its lights were tiny specks in the rearview mirror. For a split second, Delaney worried Mitchell might be a serial killer, taking her to a desolate mountaintop hideaway to strangle her and hide her body in a shallow grave. But finally, he pulled up to the city’s water tower. He got out, offered his hand and pulled her over the center console to climb out his door.
 

He led her to the narrow ladder that wound its way up the side of the tower. She went up first, he followed her and they spread out the blanket he’d brought.

“This is perfect,” she said.
 

One-and-a-half-hours flew by while they talked shop, swapping horror stories about their customers.
 

“One woman sent her food back so many times,” Mitchell said, “I finally dumped her sixth plate into her lap.”
 

“You didn’t!”
 

“I did.”
 

“Love it! One guy ordered a beer, drank half of it, then told me it tasted like crap and ordered another. Four times! But I was finally onto him, so on the last one, I dumped a bunch of hot sauce into it and his eyeballs just about popped out of his head!”
 

Hysterical now, they wiped tears from their eyes.
 

“This has been really fun,” Delaney said, as much to herself as to Mitchell. “Really fun.”

Muscles Gym, a glossy black pyramid that rose out of the concrete like a submarine coming out of the ocean, stood glinting in the background. As always, Delaney arrived two minutes early, Josie a minute after that. They waited on Summer, who texted, as always, that she was running five minutes late. Which really meant ten.
 

“We talked about everything,” Delaney told Josie. “It was awesome.”
 

“Did you fill out the rubric?” Josie asked. Leaning against her car with her arms crossed, she stared at the gym like she wanted to make it explode with her eyes.
 

“I did!” Delaney squealed.
 

“Good,” she answered without smiling. “We’ll go over it at Happy Hour after this.”
 

“Why aren’t you acting more excited? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
 

“Sorry, D. I am excited. Really. It’s just – oh, Summer’s here. Let’s go.”
 

“Sorry, ladies. Couldn’t stop retching over the toilet. Ten times worse because Luke and Nate can’t pee inside the actual bowl.” She held up an empty paper bag. “Let’s do this. Nice new workout duds, Josie. But you know we’re not working out today, right? We’re just signing up. Right?”
 

Josie made a sound, something between a grunt and a chuckle. Still, she stared straight ahead.
 

“What’s up, Josie?” Delaney said. “I thought you were going to say something like, ‘I know, it’s hot, right? And I got it for sixty percent off.’”
 

“I did, actually. I got it for sixty percent off.”
 

“So why are you so gloomy?”
 

“It can wait. Let’s get this done.”
 

***

Less than an hour later, they’d received a tour of the gym, including locker rooms, the cardio room, the free weight area and the classrooms. There was also a studio, which featured a huge tire and a bunch of brightly colored exercise balls, about a hundred mats, a pull-up bar and a punching bag. Delaney found the last room rather intimidating, Summer said it was all she could do to keep from throwing up. But Josie punched the punching bag a few times, increasingly harder, before Delaney and Summer reminded her they were just having a tour.
 

“I don’t know if going to the gym during The Dating Intervention is a good idea,” Delaney said as they walked down the street to Rowdy’s after signing their membership contracts and receiving their swipe cards. “I mean, it’s just full of good-looking, sweaty men. Full of ’em.”
 

“You’ll get over it,” Josie said.

Benjamin turned to wave as they entered.
 

“So dish on why you’re being so bitchy, Josie,” Summer said.

“Don’t you want to hear about Delaney’s date with the esquire guy?”
 

“Yes,” Summer answered. “But first, I want to hear what’s got you so grumpy on a Thursday. Need I remind you this is
Happy
Hour Thursday?”
 

Benjamin brought their drinks. Josie snatched hers up before it even had a chance to leave a ring. Then she took a long breath and finally made eye contact.

“Remember that horrible woman, Blair Upton?”
 

“The one who eats small children and kittens for lunch?”
 

Shuddering at the memory, Delaney took a long swig of her beer.

“Yes. The very same woman. The one who practically started a riot when we both applied for the lead third-grade teacher position a couple years ago.”
 

“She was so intense you just stepped down, right?” Summer asked. She opened a packet of saltine crackers.
 

“Right. Crazy hag announced today she is also going to apply for the principal’s position.”
 

“Great,” Delaney said. “I’m buying you an extra drink tonight.”
 

“She was ruthless,” Summer said. “Remember how she started that rumor that you were dating a high school senior?”
 

“How could I forget?”
 

“We’ll help you, Josie. We’ll help you kick ass on the interview and everything. Not to worry. We’ll call it,” Delaney paused for effect, then spread her hands out in front of her just as Summer had, “The Interview Intervention.”
 

“Thanks,” Josie managed. “Really, it does mean a lot. But I’m nervous as hell. I could stand her getting the position over me. Well, sort of. I mean, she’s a decent educator, even if she belongs living in the sewers. But I’m afraid of what she’s going to say and do this time, before we get to that point in the application process. And everything just seems worse because Paul, who is supposed to be my main confidant, doesn’t seem to care. I’m sure he does, but he’s so wrapped up in which drug dealer is doing which deal that I never have a chance to talk to him about my stuff.”
 

“Oh, honey,” Summer said. “This will pass. Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“Not really,” Josie said. “I honestly rarely see him anymore.”
 

“Maybe you should schedule a time to talk to him,” Delaney said.
 

“I should,” Josie said. “And I will. But meanwhile, I’m worried about the principal position.”
 

“We’ll take care of it,” Summer said through a mouthful of saltine crackers. “I’m in full mama bear mode right now. Nobody messes with me and mine.”
 

“I do feel better,” Josie said. “Thanks, you guys. Now that that’s settled, let’s hear about your date, Dee.”
 

Delaney went into full detail about the date, from Mitchell being a waiter to the water tower stargazing and the shared customer-related horror stories.
 

“It was just so much
fun
,” she gushed. “And we’re in the same place, you know?”
 

She noticed Josie and Summer share some unspoken thought and she knew exactly what it was. Mitchell’s profile had said he was a lawyer. And that’s what they wanted for Delaney: someone who was moving forward in his career. Someone who had a real job. A serious job. A marriageable job. She didn’t let it dampen her spirits. She’d enjoyed herself. She had withheld her initial judgment, per their request. Now they could live with the consequences.

“Just remember,” Summer said. “You have another date tonight.”
 

“I know, I know,” Delaney said. “I’m keeping an open mind, I promise.”
 

Then, anxious to get out of the spotlight, she asked, “How’s Derek’s job hunt going?”
 

“Oh, you know. It’s going. I don’t really want to talk about it. It raises my stress levels. If I’m not careful, this baby will come out of my womb a complete stress monster.”
 

“Are you sure?”

“Okay,” she answered. “I’m not sure. But I’m going to need crackers. I’d kill for a glass of wine.”
 

“Chocolate?” Josie said. “I have chocolate.”
 

She reached into her purse and pulled out a white paper bag from The Sweet Tooth, the candy store on the square, then handed out pieces of fudge. “All right, then, Summer. Dish.”
 

“You guys know I’ve always loved Derek’s free spirit. Right?”
 

“Right,” Josie and Delaney said.
 

“There’s a but,” Josie said.
 

Summer nodded. “But right now his free spirit is killing me. I thought he’d be in a rush to get a new job, but he’s just waiting for the Universe to bring him something. The good news is that he’s been a huge help with the kids since I haven’t been feeling well. He’s a great husband. I mean, he cooks, does dishes and he’s a great lover. I’m just freaking out. Especially with another baby on the way. And the worst part of it is, I feel like the baby can sense my stress.”
 

Her face crumpled as she began to cry. She covered her eyes with one hand and used the other to wipe her nose with a bar napkin.

“Oh, Summer. Don’t cry,” Delaney said. “Please don’t cry. The baby’s fine. He senses that his mama loves him.”