Right Under My Nose Page 5

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I went along to meet with that teacher thinking Hunter was beating up other kids or something, and she tells me he’s a little lonely.” I shook my head. “Can you believe that? She said that in front of him. Then she was asking about his mother like that’s relevant to anything in the entire world.”

  Raymond furrowed his brow and shook his head.

  “That is a little weird,” he agreed diplomatically. “But maybe she was trying to help?”

  “I know that’s what she thought she was doing,” I conceded. “But that’s not how it comes across, you know? Feels like gossip.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that,” he replied firmly. He fell silent for a moment, eyeing me.

  “What?”

  “I was just wondering,” he said before taking a deep breath. “Have you actually dated anyone since Karla?”

  “Hell no.” I waved my hand and shook my head. “I have no interest in it either. I’m too busy with the business and Hunter and—”

  “It seems like the business is in a good place,” he pointed out, cutting through my empty talking in a way that he had plenty of practice doing. “And Hunter spends plenty of time away at school these days. You don’t think you should consider getting back out there?”

  I sighed heavily. I sort of knew that he was right, that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life hiding from romance in my work and in my son, but it had been so long since I had dated anyone even casually that even the notion of it was unsettling to me. What did dating look like now? What did it look like now that I had more money than ever before? What did it look like with a son in tow? I didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, but I had a feeling I didn’t necessarily want to hear them either.

  “Look, I’m not saying you have to run off and get married or something,” Raymond continued. “But it might do you and Hunter good if you got out there a little bit more, had a life outside him now that he’s old enough to handle it.”

  “He’s nine years old, Raymond. He’s not exactly about to put down a mortgage on his first place,” I pointed out. He chuckled.

  “You know what I’m saying,” he replied firmly. “Give you and him a little space, and you never know what could happen. Could make things better between you.”

  I fell silent for a long moment. He could be right. I hated to admit it, but he could be right.

  “Besides, if you did end up meeting someone nice,” he went on, “it wouldn’t do any harm for Hunter to have a woman in his life, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose not.” I shook my head. “But where the hell am I meant to go about meeting these women? In the line at the grocery store?”

  “Hmm.” He cocked his head at me, clearly thinking. “Oh, Olivia mentioned to me that one of her friends is looking for a decent blind date candidate. I think you fit the bill.”

  “A blind date?” I laughed. “I don’t think I’ve heard about anyone going on one of those in years.”

  “So maybe it’s time to bring them back into style,” Raymond suggested. “What do you say? You up for it?”

  “I guess so.” I laughed. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. If it’s a terrible date, I’m holding Olivia personally responsible. I hope she knows that.”

  “I’ll make sure she does,” he agreed. “Say, Friday night? I’ll let you know the details as soon as I get them from Olivia.”

  “Works for me.” I reached out for the baby in his arms. “Come on, hand her over. It’s time you went out.”

  “I guess so.” He handed her to me a little reluctantly and then grinned. “Thanks for doing this, buddy.”

  “Thanks for getting me that date,” I replied, and he slapped me on the shoulder and headed out the door. I was left wondering if I had just agreed to the date that was going to change my life—for better or for worse.

  8

  Autumn

  “Autumn!”

  I glanced up as soon as I heard her voice. She was excited about something, obviously. It seemed as though this excitement was somewhat aimed at me.

  “Hey, Zoe,” I greeted her, yawning as I sat up from the table. I had stayed late that day to finish up building the grading curve for the assignments this year, and I felt as though my eyes were going to pop out and roll from my head. I could see a bunch of squiggly lines and numbers in front of me, and I had a sinking feeling that it was all wrong and I’d have to go back and start all over again sooner rather than later.

  “What’s up with you?” She frowned, stopping dead as she looked at me, and then her gaze lowered to the pages in front of me. She grimaced with a sympathy that could only come from someone who had suffered through the same agony plenty of times before herself.

  “Oh, you’re doing the grading curves.” She sighed. “I’m still putting mine off. I can’t face it right now.”

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to wait to receive all the numbers from the different schools by mail,” I groaned, pointing to the stack of envelopes on my desk. “I know this is the only way they can do it securely, but surely there has to be some way to actually make this possible without spending hours wanting to throw myself out a window.”

  “Yeah, I feel like they should have come up with something automated by now,” she agreed. “It’s crazy.”

  I could tell that, despite her attempts to commiserate with me, there was something she wanted to share with me. She was nearly hopping from foot to foot in front of me waiting to get the words out, and she looked more like one of my kids than a teacher.

  “I have something I have to tell you,” she announced and then bit her lip. I looked at her expectantly.

  “All right.” I waved my hand. “What is it?”

  “You remember when you said you would let me set you up on a blind date?” she asked, spreading her hands wide as though she was handing me the best gift she had ever given.

  “Nope.” I shook my head, casting my mind back and trying to dig that memory up. I came up a fresh blank. My mind was so full of trying to get this fucking grade curve done that it felt as though every other memory had slipped out of my mind all at once.

  “Well, you did,” she told me, and I giggled. Zoe had such a forthright way about her, there was no arguing with her when she got an idea like this one into her head.

  “All right,” I agreed. “Say that I did. What exactly has come of this zany scheme of yours?”

  “I got a call from a friend of mine,” she told me, “and she said there’s a single guy in her friend group who’s looking to get back out on the dating scene.”

  “Back out?” I cocked an eyebrow. “And what exactly was keeping him from it in the first place?”

  “I don’t remember.” Zoe waved her hand. “It’s not important.”

  “I think it might be a little,” I protested, but she waved her hand again, dismissing my concerns.

  “All you need to know is that he’s well-off, and he has a great job, according to Olivia,” She went on. “He sounds amazing, to be honest.”

  “So why don’t you snap him up yourself?”

  “Because I’m such a sweet and generous best friend that I wanted to share my romantic success with you, of course,” she replied, as though it should have been obvious.

  “You’re serious about this,” I said, getting up from the table and going to grab some of my stuff.

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She shot me a confused look.

  “Because it sounds like something out of a bad sitcom plot, that’s why.” I shook my head. “I mean, you really think I’m going to go out with some guy I’ve never met before because you’ve heard from someone else that he’s pretty cool?”

  “Oh, come on, it could be fun!” she protested. “I’ll have my phone with me that whole evening, so if you’re having a miserable time, you can text me and keep me entertained.”

  “So what you’re saying is that no matter what way this goes down, it’s all f
or your entertainment,” I said, and she nodded enthusiastically.

  “Isn’t that what you live your whole life for?” she teased, and I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  “You know, you’re damn lucky I don’t actually remember that conversation well enough to know whether or not I did agree to go on this date or not.” I stabbed my finger in the air. The triumphant smile spread over her face already. Zoe always knew when she had me, and she had me right then and there, no matter how I might have felt about it.

  “Honestly, it’ll do you some good,” she assured me. “When was the last time you were actually on a date?”

  “Uh.” I cast my mind back and came up with a straight blank. “There was that guy, the one I met at the wedding? We went out for drinks that one time.”

  “And you said he was the most boring man you’d ever met,” she reminded me. “That was nearly a year ago! Come on, you can’t spend your entire life in the classroom working on grading curves.”

  I sighed deeply. I knew she was right, and she knew that I knew. But that didn’t mean I was any keener to get up and out of here, just because she was intent on twisting my arm.

  “Can you cancel it?” I asked hopefully, and she shook her head.

  “I mean, I could, but you could never go on a date with anyone I knew again.” She sighed and shook her head, as though it was a great tragedy. I pressed my lips together and looked at her for a long time, hoping I could change her mind.

  “And when exactly is this date?” I asked, already exhausted by the thought of actually spending an evening out on the town and not hiding out at my place with a beer or two and some bad TV.

  “Tomorrow night.” She spread her hands wide again, and my eyebrows shot up.

  “Wow, you’re not giving me a lot of time to get used to this, are you?”

  “Well, you don’t want to overthink it,” she explained smoothly. I chuckled.

  “You thought that if you booked it close enough to the day, I couldn’t back out?” I asked her incredulously, and she shrugged and nodded.

  “Well, you’re in it now, aren’t you?” she pointed out, and I pulled a face. I wished I could have proven her wrong, been a little less predictable, but maybe this was what I needed.

  “Fine, I’ll go,” I agreed. “But if you ever feel the need to set something like this up again, you let me know first, all right?”

  “That’s half the fun,” she replied, and she gave me a quick hug before she headed to the door. “You’re going to have a great time with this guy. I know it.”

  “I better,” I shot back, mostly kidding but also a little not. “I’m giving up my Friday night for him.”

  “It’s going to be worth it, trust me,” she told me, grinning widely, and with that, she ducked out of the room and left me staring at the pile of tests I needed to work into the grade curve average. Suddenly, my brain felt a little overfull, and I pushed them away and went about tidying the classroom a little to distract myself.

  She had meant well, setting me up on a date like this. It had been a long time since I had so much as left the house in heels, and I knew that she was trying to help, to find me someone to get my mojo back. But the truth was, it had been gone so long that I wasn’t even sure I remembered what it felt like to have it in the first place.

  I had dated a little in high school, less in college, and then, as I had come out into the real world, I had found myself less than impressed with every option put in front of me. I didn’t want to be a bitch, but most of the guys I met seemed utterly mediocre. They hadn’t achieved anything with their lives and didn’t seem to want to. I wasn’t talking about needing a mansion and a high-flying international career, just someone with a little ambition who wasn’t afraid to share it with me. I worked my ass off and loved my job and went through a small collection of men to whom that notion seemed impossibly far removed. Why would I chase after someone who was so distant from what I wanted, who couldn’t so much as wrap his head around the thought of me building a career from the ground up, doing something I loved?

  Then there were those, of course, who treated me as though I was a step below them because of my job. They seemed to think elementary school teaching was all about wearing bright colors and smiling all the time and being able to count to ten and identify a triangle. No matter how much I tried to convince these guys there was more to my job than that, they would patronizingly nod and smile and act like I had a hobby instead of a career. They didn’t have kids, so they didn’t get how serious this work was, how much it took out of me, the skills it required to keep your classroom from descending into utter chaos.

  And sure, it would have been nice if this guy my best friend had set me up with was different from them. It would have been nice to spend an evening with a man who respected my work and respected his own. I would have enjoyed a date with someone who seemed like a grown-ass adult for a change, instead of all these boys in men costumes who I’d found myself sitting opposite of at every single date the last five years. But I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope. Why would I? I had already been let down enough times as it was, and if I knew anything, it was that keeping my hopes firmly on the low side was going to lead to less disappointment.

  I turned my attention back to the grade curves and started working on them once more, letting myself get lost in the fiddly, irritating numbers once more. At least they would probably be more engaging than the man that I was due to go out with the following night.

  9

  Holden

  I checked myself in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time since I had put on my suit that evening. I felt as though my brain was going to come leaking out of my ears, it was running so fast to try to make sense of what was going on.

  “You look fine, Dad.” My son appeared at the door, and I stopped and smiled at him in the mirror.

  “Thanks.” I turned to him and sighed heavily. “I just haven’t done this in so long.”

  “Are you nearly ready to go?” Hunter pointed to the clock next to the mirror. “I think we need to leave soon.”

  “Yeah, we do,” I agreed. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  With that, I hustled Hunter into the car and started to drive him over to Raymond’s house. He had agreed to look after Hunter for the evening while I went out on my date. I had tried to talk him out of it, tried to tell him I needed a little more time to get used to the idea of dating once more, but he had told me cheerfully that if I had too much time to overthink this, I would only find a way to talk myself out of it and he wasn’t going to let that happen. I mean, he was right, but I didn’t like him pointing it out that way.

  So I had left work early on Friday evening and returned home to shower and change into a nice suit. They had at least let me pick the restaurant, and I had chosen somewhere that was familiar to me and that I liked well enough but not so much that it would be ruined if this date wound up taking a turn for the worse. Which I assumed at some point it was going to.

  “Are you excited?” Hunter asked curiously as he sat in the passenger seat next to me. I shrugged.

  “Not really,” I admitted. I wanted to be excited. I really did, and it was sweet that my son wanted me to feel the same way, but I was more nervous than anything else. What the fuck was I supposed to do on a date, after all? How long had it been since I had gone out with a woman? I had done a damn good job hiding out in my business all this time, and I liked it there, frankly. I didn’t do dating, didn’t do stuff like this.

  But Hunter was excited for me. That much was obvious. That was what had kept me from calling up Raymond and telling him to forget about the date once and for all. I could tell my son was excited at the thought of having a woman around the house, even if he seemed to have some misconceptions about how quickly things would happen after the date tonight. All those movies he’d watched over the years had convinced him that we were going to get married on the spot if we liked each other, and nothing I was saying seemed to dissuade him of tha
t fact. He had asked tons of questions about her, not entirely grasping the notion of what a blind date actually was, and I knew that he wanted nothing more than to come along with me and meet her for himself. Which was sweet, in its own way, but also the last thing I needed right now.

  I dropped him off with Raymond, and he gave me a quick hug before he sent me on my way.

  “Have a good time, Dad,” he told me, and my heart melted a little. I nearly called this whole thing off to spend the night with Hunter instead. Then I saw the look Raymond was giving me over the top of his head, and I knew if I didn’t go, Raymond was going to drag me there himself. So I turned and made my way to the restaurant and tried to ignore how much my palms were sweating and how deeply I was hoping I would get the call that she had canceled and that, oh well, we would just have to forget all this for tonight.

  What had my last date actually been? I cast my mind back and tried to dredge up something and came up with a dead nothing. Before Hunter had been born, it wasn’t like I went on anything as serious as a date. You just met up with someone at some party or a bar or a bowling alley, and if you liked each other, you started dating. You didn’t whisk people out on full-blown dinners out. Nobody had the money for that, least of all me.

  I fidgeted in my seat. Could the people around me tell how out of place I was here? A few other couples surrounded us, and I noticed for the first time that this place was seriously romantic, dim lighting, white tables, glimmering gold accents on the walls. Maybe she would get in here and think I was about to propose to her.

  I leaned back and looked around, trying to imagine the kind of woman Raymond and Olivia might have picked out for me. Kind, probably—that would be the first port of call. Back when I was younger, around the time I’d done this last, I likely would have put hot at the top of the list of things I needed from a potential partner. Now with my son in the picture, I needed someone with the patience and kindness to handle a kid who could sometimes retreat into himself.