Love Unscripted
Page 3
One of the firefighters from our local Seaport Fire Department, who was sitting with a group of co-workers at the large, round table in front of me, raised his empty beer pitcher in the air to get my attention.
“Phil really likes you,” Marie whispered.
“Who’s Phil?” I asked, pulling my long blond hair back to remove the few strands that annoyingly stuck to the corner of my mouth.
Marie rolled her eyes at me. “Taryn!” she scolded.
“Sorry, but I don’t know who you’re talking about!” I honestly had no clue who Phil was.
“Fire Department?” She motioned the direction with her eyes. “The cute guy smiling at you? The one who is recently divorced and now on the open market?”
“Him?” I pointed with a tilt of my head. “I thought his name was Todd.”
“No, it’s Phil,” Marie corrected, laughing at my confused expression. “He’s been asking about you.”
I opened a new bottle of vodka, wondering where I ever got the name Todd.
“Well?” Marie asked impatiently, waiting for my response.
“Not interested,” I muttered while I prepared a Dirty Martini. Sandy had asked for three olives in this one.
Marie put her fist on her hip, just like she always does when she feels the need to lecture me. I started laughing at her stance; it reminded me of when we were teenagers, leaning on our school lockers and talking about boys.
I was thankful that she at least kept her voice down this time to reprimand me so all the people sitting at the bar wouldn’t hear her every word.
“Taryn, what’s wrong with him? He is freaking good-looking!” Marie whispered.
I sighed. “Nothing is wrong with him.” I quickly hurried down the long bar to deliver the martini. It didn’t matter how handsome he was; I did not want to be any man’s second choice for a wife.
“What about Dan over there?” Marie suggested. “That poor guy asks you out at least once a week. He’s adorable too. Or Jeff, or Kevin, or Andy?” She pointed inconspicuously around the pub.
I glanced around at the faces of the men that she was referring to. All of them had asked me to go on a date at one time or another and I had lied to each and every one of them, telling them I already had a boyfriend.
“You need to give a few of these assholes a chance… you just might find one that fits!” Marie teased me. “Besides, if I had a body like yours, I’d be putting it to good use every day!”
She didn’t need to shake her butt for me to grasp her innuendo.
I rolled my eyes. “No you wouldn’t! And you’ve known me long enough to know I’m not like that either.”
“Tar, it’s been like eight months. This existence you’re in is not healthy.”
“Healthy in comparison to what?” I asked. My chest still had a lingering, dull pain from the last man who shattered my heart into a million pieces.
I didn’t need to explain further; Marie knew exactly what I meant. “Besides, I like my existence,” I informed her with an exaggerated grin. It was safe – predictable – painless.
“I just want to see you happy again,” Marie uttered in defeat.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Actually I had grown quite accustomed to lying to her, too. Little did she know, I had another stupid dream, or should I say nightmare, about Thomas again this morning.
“I don’t need some divorced guy on the rebound to make me happy,” I said to her in passing.
“Ehem, Taryn?” I heard a man’s voice call my name. Phil the fireman was standing at the bar.
Instinctively my shoulders hunched from the fear of having been overheard. I hoped like hell that he didn’t just hear my comment; I would feel awful if he did.
I looked at Marie for confirmation. Her eyes opened wider and she shrugged the slightest bit, which was absolutely no help. I started to panic a little inside; the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt his feelings.
Phil waved a twenty at me and gestured for the new pitcher of beer I still held in my hand.
“I wanted to ask you if you’ve tried that new steakhouse over by the mall yet?” Phil mumbled nervously, almost to the point that I didn’t understand him. As I processed his question, my eyes closed briefly and I took a deep breath through my nose. This was his opener to ask me on a date.
“No, I haven’t, but Marie has.” I hurried away to the cash register with his money in hand and punched the keys slowly, trying to figure out how to let him down easy. I could sense what was coming.
“Phil really likes you,” Marie whispered.
“Who’s Phil?” I asked, pulling my long blond hair back to remove the few strands that annoyingly stuck to the corner of my mouth.
Marie rolled her eyes at me. “Taryn!” she scolded.
“Sorry, but I don’t know who you’re talking about!” I honestly had no clue who Phil was.
“Fire Department?” She motioned the direction with her eyes. “The cute guy smiling at you? The one who is recently divorced and now on the open market?”
“Him?” I pointed with a tilt of my head. “I thought his name was Todd.”
“No, it’s Phil,” Marie corrected, laughing at my confused expression. “He’s been asking about you.”
I opened a new bottle of vodka, wondering where I ever got the name Todd.
“Well?” Marie asked impatiently, waiting for my response.
“Not interested,” I muttered while I prepared a Dirty Martini. Sandy had asked for three olives in this one.
Marie put her fist on her hip, just like she always does when she feels the need to lecture me. I started laughing at her stance; it reminded me of when we were teenagers, leaning on our school lockers and talking about boys.
I was thankful that she at least kept her voice down this time to reprimand me so all the people sitting at the bar wouldn’t hear her every word.
“Taryn, what’s wrong with him? He is freaking good-looking!” Marie whispered.
I sighed. “Nothing is wrong with him.” I quickly hurried down the long bar to deliver the martini. It didn’t matter how handsome he was; I did not want to be any man’s second choice for a wife.
“What about Dan over there?” Marie suggested. “That poor guy asks you out at least once a week. He’s adorable too. Or Jeff, or Kevin, or Andy?” She pointed inconspicuously around the pub.
I glanced around at the faces of the men that she was referring to. All of them had asked me to go on a date at one time or another and I had lied to each and every one of them, telling them I already had a boyfriend.
“You need to give a few of these assholes a chance… you just might find one that fits!” Marie teased me. “Besides, if I had a body like yours, I’d be putting it to good use every day!”
She didn’t need to shake her butt for me to grasp her innuendo.
I rolled my eyes. “No you wouldn’t! And you’ve known me long enough to know I’m not like that either.”
“Tar, it’s been like eight months. This existence you’re in is not healthy.”
“Healthy in comparison to what?” I asked. My chest still had a lingering, dull pain from the last man who shattered my heart into a million pieces.
I didn’t need to explain further; Marie knew exactly what I meant. “Besides, I like my existence,” I informed her with an exaggerated grin. It was safe – predictable – painless.
“I just want to see you happy again,” Marie uttered in defeat.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Actually I had grown quite accustomed to lying to her, too. Little did she know, I had another stupid dream, or should I say nightmare, about Thomas again this morning.
“I don’t need some divorced guy on the rebound to make me happy,” I said to her in passing.
“Ehem, Taryn?” I heard a man’s voice call my name. Phil the fireman was standing at the bar.
Instinctively my shoulders hunched from the fear of having been overheard. I hoped like hell that he didn’t just hear my comment; I would feel awful if he did.
I looked at Marie for confirmation. Her eyes opened wider and she shrugged the slightest bit, which was absolutely no help. I started to panic a little inside; the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt his feelings.
Phil waved a twenty at me and gestured for the new pitcher of beer I still held in my hand.
“I wanted to ask you if you’ve tried that new steakhouse over by the mall yet?” Phil mumbled nervously, almost to the point that I didn’t understand him. As I processed his question, my eyes closed briefly and I took a deep breath through my nose. This was his opener to ask me on a date.
“No, I haven’t, but Marie has.” I hurried away to the cash register with his money in hand and punched the keys slowly, trying to figure out how to let him down easy. I could sense what was coming.
