More Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories (The Flirts! Short Stories Collections) (8 page)

Aubrey drove home wondering if she should be depressed that she prompted an ex to become a woman. Not many girls could hold that claim to fame, but Quinn had seemed so happy, Aubrey couldn’t help but feel happy—and hopeful, too. Maybe Aubrey would find her own happy ending when this was all over.

***

After cruising the mall and buying nothing, she went home and decided to call it a day. It was Friday night and she should have plans to go out and paint the town red. But the palette in her mind only featured dull, muddy shades. No red. No sparkles. All her friends had boyfriends, and calling her therapist to meet her at a bar would be a new low. Kyla had called to check on her, and Aubrey left a message telling her she was seeing an ex. Which was sort of true. She had seen some exes that week. Solo for the night, she made some popcorn and snuggled up to watch some favorite old movies and swoon over the happy endings. She couldn’t help but think of Ian’s happy ending and how she should be pleased for him. But she wasn’t. Not at all. She lay in bed thinking about the time they spent a week on the beach in Maine, and when they shared their first kiss on the swan boats at Boston Public Gardens, and how he’d always make her hot chocolate from scratch with a curl of dark chocolate on top. Did he do that for Monica, too?

***

Aubrey got up early Saturday morning for her trip to Vermont. Simon hadn’t returned her emails, but her Internet search had revealed that he’d just been elected mayor of the small town he moved to, and would be appearing at their Winterfest that weekend.
This is not stalking
, she told herself the entire ride there. She merely noticed he was making a public appearance and she was the public, right? She had every right to stop by and say hi, even if it was four hours out of her way.

She was prepared to hear whatever criticisms Simon had to share about her. He was ten years older than her. The oldest guy she’d ever dated. Maybe he had good insight into what went wrong—because something certainly had gone wrong. After he’d broken up with her, he’d refused to return her calls. Three years later, was he ready to reveal the truth?

She parked at the festival grounds and got herself a cotton candy and some hot chocolate as she tried to find Simon. Finally, she spotted him in the gazebo, shaking hands with his constituents.

He looked up, caught her gaze—and ran! The line of people waiting to meet him, looked over to see what had frightened him.

“Hello.” She waved her cotton candy stick at them, trying to act like it was totally normal that a grown man had just spotted her—and fled like she was a bounty hunter. Aubrey saw Simon run into a building hosting a craft show. She threw out her food and followed him inside. “Simon?”

He didn’t answer, but she saw someone standing behind a display of spring wreaths for sale.

“Simon, I know you’re there. I just want to ask you a few questions, then I’ll leave.”

He stepped out from behind the display. “A few questions. Of course.” He laughed in a semi-hysterical way. “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Questions.”

“What do you mean?”

“See? Another question.”

She walked toward him and he grabbed a wreath, holding it between them like a shield.

“Are you going to attack me with that?”

“No. Just leave. Please don’t ask any questions.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Simon’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” she said.

“My election for the school board back in West Roxbury?”

She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m so sorry you lost. I tried to help.”

Simon set down the wreath. “I lost because of your help! You used video of me dressed up like a nun on Halloween, asking if voters wanted a school board member who wouldn’t put up with any nunsense. I was dressed in a habit holding a ruler, Aubrey.”

“I wanted it to go viral, get your name out there.”

“It did go viral! I lost the entire Catholic vote. I had to move out here just to get elected to a public office.”

Aubrey clenched her jaw.
You will not cry, you will not cry
.

Simon held up his hands and took a step back. “Please just leave.”

“I thought it was a clever idea. I wanted to help make it happen for you. For us.”

“And that was exactly the problem. It either happens, or it doesn’t. You can’t make a relationship work.”

She took the packet of papers out of her purse then crumpled them in her hand. What was the use? Every guy had told her the same thing—she tried too hard. She’d always thought that had always been one of her greatest strengths.

Simon looked around the room. A line of sweat was beaded above his lips. “Can you please leave? I’m going to be nervous that voters will demand a recall election until you’re out of the county.”

She forced a smile. “Thanks a lot for making Ian look even better.”

“Huh?”

Shaking her head, she tossed the packet in the trash, and went back to her car.

Her phone buzzed, indicating a text had arrived. Aubrey fished it out of her purse and frowned. It was from Kyla: “Stone and I want you to come out for dinner with us on Valentine’s Day. We’ve already made reservations for three.”

Kyla texted back. “Sorry, I can’t.” Kyla and her new boyfriend deserved a quiet, romantic night—alone.

***

When she got home from Vermont, she grabbed the pile tucked into her mailbox and went inside. Stuck in between the magazines and sales flyers were five thick envelopes. Since Simon wouldn’t be filling one out, everyone else had gotten back to her. She impressed by how quickly they’d filled out the questions. They probably had just wanted to get it over with.

She ripped open the first envelope and scanned the answers. She’d gotten a five out of five for kissing, four out of five for humor, and a two of out five for flexibility.
I really should have clarified if I meant that in a physical or accommodating way
.

By the time she got to the essay questions, she figured out this was from Dane, because it said the same thing he’d told her in person—she snored. Who knew he was such a liar?

The four other packets held few surprises—besides a report that she occasionally had a stray hair growing on her chin. What? This whole project left her feeling worse than when she had started. She called Diana and made an appointment for the next day and wondered if she should buy two boxes of candy to eat by herself on Valentine’s Day.

***

“How am I supposed to not try too hard? I’m passionate about things. Do you think I try too hard?” Aubrey asked Diana during her appointment after work Monday.

Diana choked on her coffee. “You do your best to make things work. Like with the survey. Gung-ho is a good description for you.”

“I thought gung-ho was a good thing. Wasn’t there a cartoon character named Gung-Ho Phooey?”

“I wouldn’t know about that. But gung-ho is a good thing. You just need to find someone who’s gung-ho about you, too. And then you won’t have to try at all, because it’ll just happen. The guys were right, though. Working hard isn’t going to save a relationship that wasn’t meant to be.”

***

Aubrey went home and grabbed the mail before going inside to drown her sorrows in chocolate syrup. As she flipped through the bills and ads while pouring Hershey’s syrup on a spoon and licking it off—a new personal low—she spotted an envelope with no return address. She ran her sticky finger under the flap and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

Sucking in a breath, she opened it and read the five short sentences typed out: “I wasn’t honest with you. You were perfect and it scared me. I still love you. I should have tried harder. I should have tried as hard as you did.”

Her heart pounded and she flipped the letter over. It wasn’t signed! Who’d sent it? Each of her exes had seemed happy with their lives and not at all disappointed they were no longer a couple.

She hopped off the couch and paced the apartment. Should she create a follow-up survey to find out who sent this? Or she could call them all again? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. None of them were right for her, except for Ian. And if it was him who’d written this letter, he was a jerk for sending it while he was married. She tucked the letter in the kitchen drawer where she stashed bills and appointment reminder cards she wanted to ignore.

***

The next day was Valentine’s Day, and Aubrey read the letter again and again whenever there was a lull in calls at work. After a torturous afternoon, signing for bouquets and balloons for her co-workers, she stormed home, crumpled the letter and threw it away. He probably thought he’d been nice sending that letter, but it only managed to reignite her feelings for him—and crush her heart once again.

She turned on the enormous Jacuzzi in her bathroom and got in, then unwrapped the giant chocolate heart Kyla had sent her. She fished out a coconut candy and wondered if she’d ever have the passion to work at a relationship again. Maybe the survey had been helpful—she’d certainly never try too hard again. She didn’t have the heart for it. The coconut candy slipped from her fingertips and disappeared under the bubbles. Bummer. Her favorite.

***

The next day was unseasonably sunny and warm for February, and since she had at least four thousand calories in chocolate to burn off, Aubrey decided to take a walk after work. She found herself heading toward JuJu’s and thinking of Ian, of course. It wouldn’t be so bad to have lost him to someone who really appreciated him, but his wife didn’t seem to love him like Aubrey would’ve loved him. His wife didn’t seem like she tried hard at all.

That’s probably how she got him
.

Lost in her thoughts, Aubrey walked through the stream of people outside enjoying the day. She stopped when she got to JuJu’s and stared inside through the window. How many times had she and Ian come here? She’d always narrow her selection down to two choices, and Ian would order her second choice, just in case she didn’t like the one she’d chosen. They usually ended up splitting their meals and arguing over who’d take more than their fair share and whose was the best.

She sighed and looked down the sidewalk.

“Aubrey?”

She looked up and blinked. “Ian?” She would’ve thought it was a hallucination if not for the baby in front of him bundled up in a stroller. The little guy was cute, but he certainly didn’t have a guest role in her Ian fantasies.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“It’s a nice day. I’m done with work. I’m just taking a walk while it’s still light out. Is Joshua still sick?”

Ian was moving his mouth to say something, when Ian’s wife came out of JuJu’s. Aubrey heard the Wicked Witch of the West music playing in her head.

Monica took the stroller from Ian. “They can get us a table in fifteen minutes.” She looked over at Aubrey. “Oh, it’s you again.”

Aubrey tucked her hands in her pockets. “Yes, I was just out taking a walk and ran into Ian.”

“Isn’t that a coincidence,” Monica said. She shoved Ian. “And what did you tell her?”

“Nothing,” he said.

Monica narrowed her eyes at him. “You coward.”

Aubrey stepped forward. “Stop it! Why are you so mean to him? Don’t you know what a great guy you’ve got?”

Monica looked at Ian and laughed.

Aubrey clenched her teeth but she couldn’t hold back her words. “You don’t deserve him. Ian should have someone wonderful who cares about him. He’s smart and kind and funny and caring. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s hot as hell!”

Monica doubled over, laughing. “Oh, my god. I would stab myself to death with a plastic spork if I had someone like Ian. He never picks up after himself. He’s a lousy cook and clearly, he’s a chicken shit.”

Aubrey cocked her head. “What do you mean, if you had someone like Ian? He’s your husband.”

Monica burst out laughing again. “He’s my brother.” She turned to him. “Sorry, dude. Someone had to tell her.”

Ian’s face paled and Aubrey thought she might throw up. “You didn’t want me to know you were single? You were so desperate to make sure I wouldn’t be interested in you again you lied to me?” Her hands covered her mouth. “It wasn’t you who sent the letter.” She blinked back tears.

He just stared at her and Aubrey turned to run.

“Aubrey, wait!” Ian grabbed her arm. “That’s not it!”

She turned to him and glared, yanking her arm away. “Then why would you possibly lie to me about having a wife and child unless you didn’t want me to know you’re single?”

Ian scratched his head and looked up at the sky. “I didn’t want you to know I don’t have a job. And that I’m living at my sister’s place until I can get back on my feet. I’m embarrassed.”

Surprised, she sucked in a breath. “Are you serious?”

He hung his head. “It sucks, I know.”

She waved her hand in the air. “No, I mean are you serious that you thought I wouldn’t want you because your life isn’t perfect right now?”

“I don’t have much to offer,” he said.

She stepped closer to him. “I love—loved—you. It doesn’t matter what you do. I don’t know why you thought you had to get that promotion to prove something to me.”

“I was stupid. I thought I had to get my career rolling before I could focus on love. I needed to show you I could support us even without your money. But I put so much work into my career, and nothing into our relationship. Is it too late?”

“I’m going to puke,” Monica said behind them.

“Shut it unless you want to lose your live-in babysitter,” Ian said.

Monica pushed the baby stroller and stood in front of them. “Why don’t you two take our dinner reservation?” The sarcasm was gone from her voice. “Please. He’s been miserable since you stopped by. Take him off my hands for the love of God.”

“Could you possibly give me a second chance?” Ian asked.

Aubrey stopped smiling and took on her most serious tone. “That depends on how much of your dinner you share.” She looped her arm in his and headed inside the restaurant.