The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series (17 page)

In an obvious attempt to break the tension, Josie said, “Ooh, Dee, are you laying down your official gender hypothesis?”
 

She slipped off her stool to hug Summer, and Delaney answered, “No, not at this time.”

“Although you’ve been right about all the other four,” Summer said. “I don’t know if I can handle another boy, though.”
 

“Sure you can,
amiga
. You can handle anything,” Josie said, running a hand over Summer’s hair. “Anything. How can we help?”

Summer just shook her head. “You’re already doing it,” she said. “Dwelling on it isn’t going to change anything. Let’s talk about what Delaney should wear on tonight’s date.”
 

Josie kissed Summer’s temple and sat down again.

“You know what you should wear, Dee?” Summer said. “That green dress. You know, the one with the sleeves.”
 

“Those bell sleeve things?” Josie said. “She always ends up dipping those in her dinner. Remember that time, at Hot Diggity Dog?”
 

“Oh, the time she got mustard all over those sleeves and then they trailed all over her brand new skinny jeans?” Summer said.
 

“Right,” Josie said. “So don’t wear that. Wear that black sweater you got at Suzie’s and that green scarf.”

Delany nodded. “Copy that. Black sweater. Green scarf.”
 

“I gotta go,” Josie said. “Papers to grade, interviews to practice for.”
 

She tossed back the last drink of her vodka cranberry, put her glass down on the table, gave them each a fierce hug and walked out, her black hair flowing behind her.
 

“Well, I’d better get going, too,” Summer said. “You need time to get ready for your date. Look, D, I know you liked Mitchell, but I want you to keep an open mind for tonight. You’ll give him a chance, right?”
 

“Of course,” Delaney lied. “What does this guy look like?”
 

“He’s like the mystery guy,” Summer said, her voice like a voiceover for a spooky movie. “He didn’t have a picture posted, but we liked the sound of him. This is the woodworker, remember?”
 

“An artist?”
 

“Stop sneering,” Summer said. “I’m an artist, remember? Besides, it means he’s good with his hands. You ought to like that.”
 

Delaney rolled her eyes. “What’s his name, again?”
 

“Sebastian.”
 

“Right. Sebastian. Wasn’t that the name of the little red lobster guy on “The Little Mermaid?”
 

“Knock it off.” Summer stood up, brushed the cracker crumbs off her shirt and skirt and gave Delaney a kiss on the cheek. “Love you. Be good and follow the rules.”
 

“Okay, mama bear. Love you.”
 

***

As Delaney wound the silky green scarf around her neck, she thought again about Jake Rhoades. She should really put it out to the Universe that she wanted to see him again. That’s what Summer would suggest. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Pixie, who’d been curled up at the foot of the bed, stood up, stretched and yawned.
 

“Bored of watching me think about Jake Rhoades?” Delaney asked.
 

In answer, the cat hopped off the bed and walked out of the room, her tail high.
 

“You know, Pixie, you’d like him, too,” she called after her.
 

She thought back to her date with Mitchell. She’d really enjoyed the easy conversation, the water tower, the sexual tension. Laying there next to him, she wanted more than anything to lightly trail a finger down his stomach, or press herself against him. She could tell he wanted it, too. She couldn’t really discern whether that resulted from The Rules, which forbade her from kissing on the first date, or from good, old-fashioned chemistry. Normally, she’d kiss away on the first date. On any date. She’d kiss even if she and a guy had specified they
weren’t
on a date.
 

 
Was that a crime?

So why was she still holding a flame for Jake Rhoades? She didn’t know. But if Summer was right, a little shout out to the Universe couldn’t hurt. Pixie wandered back in just as Delaney flopped down on her bed.

“I’m not really sure how to do this, Pix,” she murmured.
 

The cat hopped onto the bed, too and curled up at Delaney’s waist.
 

“Hey, Universe,” Delaney said quietly. “I’d sure like to see Jake Rhoades again. I promise that this time, I won’t squander my opportunity.”
 

Nothing happened. No flash of lightning, rattle of windows or rush of wind. Delaney sat up and shrugged. Pixie, irked at having her cuddle disturbed, glared at her.

“I guess we’ll see what happens.”

Sebastian the Mysterious had said he wanted to try the newest restaurant downtown, a piano bar that served pizza. According to Josie, he’d be wearing a black button-down shirt and jeans.
 

The girls had a good chuckle at this.
 

“Perfect,” Josie had said. “You guys wear matching uniforms.”

It couldn’t be. Was this some cosmic joke? As she rounded the corner of Main Street and Grove, she saw him. Jake Rhoades. She’d recognize the fit of those jeans anywhere. He was waiting outside the piano bar, looking insanely tasty. He turned at the sound of her boots on the sidewalk, and smiled.
 

Delaney stopped dead. A rambunctious coil of snakes took up residence in her stomach.
 

Why, oh why
, she wondered,
do I have to run into Jake Rhoades here, now, when I’m about to go on a date with someone else? Thanks, Universe, but I could have waited until tomorrow.
After a pause in her thinking, she smiled back.
At least I look presentable.
 

Trying for discreet, she straightened her sweater. And she made herself keep walking toward him.
 

“Hey,” she said, hoping for casual. “You’re the Good Samaritan who stopped when I got rear-ended at Highway Twenty-Three and Pinecone.”
 

Her insides turned to hot liquid when their eyes met.
 

“You’re the woman with the kids,” he said.
 

“They’re not mine,” she said, and he chimed in with her, “Great kids. But not mine.”
 

She giggled nervously, fidgeted with her scarf, forced her hands to come to rest at her sides.
 

“I was hoping I’d see you again,” he said. “That is, after the quick encounter at Rowdy’s where you shoved my drink in my hand and all but shouted at me to leave.”
 

“You were? And I did that?”
 

“Sure. You turned me down when I invited you to eat at Porky’s. Three kids and pulled pork. The height of romance. I thought I couldn’t go wrong. But you turned me down cold.”
 

“I had to get the kids home.”
 

“I’ve heard that one before. And then at Rowdy’s, you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I was working! It was busy! Trust me, I’d much rather have had a drink with you than stay behind that bar.”
 

“Really?”
 

“Yeah. Really.”
 

For the briefest moment, they stood there, grinning at each other. Delaney shook herself when she remembered why she was here.
 

“Look, I’m meeting someone, so …”
 

“Online dating, huh?”
 

She hadn’t expected this. Her face flushed before she had a chance to pretend it wasn’t true.
 

“How’d you know?”
 

“Sebastian,” he said, offering his hand.
 

“What?” she blurted out, before she had the chance to come up with something more civilized. Then she noticed the black shirt. “I’m meeting
you
? I’m meeting you! But you said your name was Jake. Jake Rhoades.”
 

Oh, God. Why did I blurt out his entire name? Like a mantra. Like the very same mantra I’ve been repeating over and over in my head for the past ten days.
 

He dropped his hand. She felt a mixture of delight (warmth throughout her upper body) and nerves (sweaty armpits. Thank goodness for the black sweater).
 

“You remembered, huh?”
 

She hoped the excitement she felt inside wasn’t showing on her face. It might make her come across as desperate. “I’ve been thinking this whole time that your name was Jake.”
 

‘I’ve been thinking this whole time’?! Come on, Delaney!
 

“So you’ve been thinking about me?” He pulled open the door to the restaurant, gestured for her to go in ahead of him.
 

Oh, yeah. You should see what I’ve been thinking. Also, one point for opening that door.

“Well, yeah. I mean, you were like a hero to the kids that day.”
 

“And to you, too, right?”
 

She shook her head, rolled her eyes. The hostess asked, “Two?” before leading them to a corner window table that looked out over Main Street. Dusk was just settling in, throwing a dusty pink light over everything.
 

“So who are you, really?” Delaney asked.
 

She took a moment to take in the scenery: wood paneling, landscape paintings of vineyards, still life paintings of cheese and crackers. She unrolled her linen napkin, draped it carefully across her lap and arranged her silverware on the table, stopping to remind herself Josie had said she was absolutely not to make napkin figurines on a first date.

“Sebastian Jacob Rhoades. I go by Jake in real life, but it’s such a small town, I put Sebastian on my dating profile so no one knows who I am. Would you have accepted my invite if you knew it was me?”
 

“Is that why you don’t put a picture on your profile? Or is it so you can hightail it if you show up somewhere and the woman doesn’t look like you expected her to?”
 

“Yep. Yep to both. And because the only picture I have is one my sister took of me when I was rock climbing. It’s not a very good view, you know?”
 

“Guess it depends on where she was standing.”
 

He chuckled, then leaned forward, his eyes still smiling but his face serious. “So would you?”
 

“Would I have come on the date if I knew it was you? Yes.”
 

He sat back. The server set down water glasses and then gargantuan, bowl-like wine glasses.
 

“Would you like to try a sample?” she asked. “We just got in a new red from a local winery. It’s a cabernet grown, harvested and made right here in Arizona.”
 

“Sure,” Jake and Delaney said simultaneously.

They ordered full glasses to go with their meat lovers’ pizza. Dark had fallen and the quaint little street lamps flickered on.
 

“So can I call you Jake, then?”
 

Delaney served him a melting slice of pizza, resisted the urge to lick the grease off her fingers and then served herself.
Mental note: Thank Josie for nixing the green dress … I definitely would have gotten the sleeves oily.

“Of course. Did they ever catch the guy who hit you?”
 

“Nope. He was out of Phoenix. But my friend Summer is all forgiving about it. ‘All’s well that ends well,’ she says. The kids are fine, the van is fine. No harm, no foul, I guess.”
 

“Well, I’m glad it turned out all right. And I’m glad you didn’t turn me down for this date like you did when I invited you to Porky’s.”
 

Again, she found herself entertained. “Wow. You’re really holding onto that. I told you, I had to get the kids home. I was disappointed I didn’t get your number.”
 

“Why didn’t you ask for it?”
 

She was learning quickly that something about Jake made her want to be very honest. Was it too honest?
 

“I don’t do that.”
 

He laughed. “You don’t do that?”
 

“No.”
 

The pianist, a petite old woman with cotton for hair and arthritic looking knuckles, sat down and began to play. The melody drifted softly through the restaurant, reminding Delaney of an old-fashioned lounge.
 

“How do you ever go out with people?” Before she could answer, he asked, “Is this your first date, like, ever?”
 

“No, it’s –”
 

“Oh, you have
rules
, right? I’ve heard about girls like you. In fact, I’ve dated girls like you. My favorites, though, are the girls who don’t have any rules.”
 

When she blanched, his serious expression transformed into a smile. “Just kidding. There was one girl, kind of the one who got away, I guess, who had a bunch of rules. Brittany.”
 

Delaney was mortified to see that Jake looked nostalgic. Sad and a little dreamy.

“What happened with her?”
This is like a car accident. I don’t want to know but I can’t help asking.
 

Jake shrugged. “It was weird. She just kind of disappeared. I figured I broke one of her rules, and that was that.”
 

Unsure of what to say, Delaney didn’t answer. Jake took a sip of wine, then shook his head just a little.

“So why are you dating online, then?” he asked. “Surely that’s against your rules.”
 

Should she tell him? Should she say it’s because she was too lame to figure out dating on her own and this was her friends’ way of reining her in, of screening her dates before she chose toxic men?
Nah.
 

First of all, telling him really was against the rules and she had promised the girls she’d try harder to follow them. Plus, it was a bit too much information for a first date, probably. She’d leave that for later.