One True Thing (6 page)

that had
nothing
to do with inevitability and

sadness, and everything to do with the life I

wanted to live. Perfection. Beauty. Cleanliness.

Someday.

Chapter Three

Dusty

IT’D been nearly a week since I’d given Archer

my number. Six whole days of me trying not to

obsess—and failing miserably. I was rational

enough not to expect a call that first night, but I’d

been hopeful—foolishly hopeful, maybe—for

some kind of contact the next day. A call, a text, I

didn’t care which. Instead, aside from Rue and

occasionally Erik, my phone was silent as the

grave, without even a voice mail or a text from my

friends back in Delaware to lessen the sting.

I’d been blown off before, and, yeah, it

always sucked, but this time it bothered me more

than any other. I just didn’t get it. We’d had a

connection, or at least I’d felt one. Could

something that intense really be one-sided? He’d

flirted and asked me out, and I know I might not be

a ten, but when he’d looked at me, he sure as hell

seemed to enjoy the view. So why the silence?

Well, there was no use in dwelling. He hadn’t

called, probably wasn’t going to. I’d put myself

out there, he’d pretended interest to be polite, and

that was it. What I’d felt that first day had been a

fluke, nothing more—not some special sign, just

me mistaking static electricity for destiny. His

touch hadn’t meant anything. I didn’t have to think

about him ever again. I could put him and the

fantasy of our potentially soul-deep connection

right out of my head. It was stupid anyway, right?

Life didn’t work that way. That kind of love

wasn’t real.

Except it was—I
knew
it was—because I saw

it every day with Erik and Rue. Nothing could

have brought those two together but fate.

Sighing, I looked down into my half-empty

salad bowl. I’d gone to The Banana Leaf on my

lunch break because I’d been craving one of my

favorites (not hoping to see Archer, nope, not at

all), but even the deliciousness of their spinach,

strawberry, pecan with its mouthwatering in-house

balsamic vinaigrette had done little to lift my

spirits. It was in a sorry state now, partially wilted

and soggy. I’d been doing nothing more than poke

at it morosely with my fork for the past ten

minutes.

Okay, so I couldn’t lie to myself. I
had
come

to the café hoping Archer might be there. How sad

was that? If he’d wanted to talk to me, he would

have called. What was I doing wasting my time

worrying about it? Rue would laugh if he could see

me. But then, he’d have been the one in Archer’s

position in this scenario, not mine. Except for the

week-long break between him and Erik a couple of

months back, he’d never been the type to sit around

waiting on a guy. I needed to start taking lessons

from him. I needed to learn how not to feel

everything so much.

Well, no more. This depression, this fog, this

whatever the hell it is, is officially over. Starting

now.

I nodded to myself and pushed my chair back,

pausing to collect my tote bag from where it rested

on the seat next to mine. I grabbed my tray, dumped

my garbage, and marched out into the warm

summer afternoon with my shoulders straight and

my head held high.

On my way back to Embellish, I passed

Cobra Fitness again and promised myself I would

stop in after work. So I didn’t have a boyfriend.

No biggie. Rue’s time had come when he least

expected it. Mine would too. In the meantime,

maybe I could make a friend.

A few hours later I walked into Cobra

Fitness, feeling nervous. I’d had to talk myself into

going

after

a

disastrous

end-of-the-day

appointment with a woman who’d come in for an

all-over color and, against my advice, insisted on

a strawberry-blonde I knew would do absolutely

nothing for her dark skin tone. It hadn’t taken her

long to agree—once she saw the actual results, of

course—but I couldn’t let her leave without fixing

it, even if that meant I didn’t get to walk out of

Embellish until an hour later than normal.

The air in the gym was muggy and thick with

the smell of sweat. As I approached, the redhead at

the reception desk gave me a bored look, clearly

annoyed about having to put her phone aside to

deal with a customer.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I was wondering if Michelle is here

today. She told me to stop in for a tour.”

The girl—Raven, her name tag said—popped

her gum and flicked a disinterested glance at her

computer screen. “Yeah, her last class gets out in a

few minutes. If you want to watch, you can go

over. Down the hall, second door on the left.”

“Thanks.” I followed her instructions and

found myself at the doorway of a decent-sized

room, lined entirely on one side with mirrors. The

music was loud, some hip-hop song I semi-

recognized, and the group inside appeared to be in

the middle of their cool-down stretches.

I searched the room for Michelle and found

her near the front, looking sweaty and gorgeous in

a pair of fitted capris and a racer-back sports bra

that showed off the expanse of her admittedly

impressive abs. I didn’t know whether to be sad

she wasn’t a guy—because, damn, she’d be hot if

she was—or feel bad about my own body instead.

Sure, I was thin, but I was also soft. There was no

way I was ever going to have a six-pack, though,

especially with my flightiness when it came to

actual exercise. Walking I could handle. I did

plenty of that. Weights and cardio classes? Not so

much.

I gave a mental shrug.
Oh, well.
At least my

diet was mostly healthy.

Michelle looked up and spotted me hovering

just beyond the doorframe. I was glad to see a

spark of recognition on her face. I waved and

gestured toward the hallway, trying to tell her I’d

be waiting. She nodded an acknowledgment, and I

stepped out of the doorway to lean against the wall

beside it.

A few minutes later, the people in the class

filed out, some of them giving me curious looks but

most of them ignoring me, intent on getting to what

I assumed were the locker rooms.

Michelle appeared in the doorway with a

towel draped over her shoulders and held out a

hand. “Hey. How’s it going? Dusty, right?”

I smiled and accepted her handshake. “Yep. I

was hoping I could take you up on that tour offer.”

“Sure. Let me finish cleaning up in here and

I’ll show you around.”

The tour was short. Cobra wasn’t all that

different from any of the other fitness facilities I’d

been to, and I was only halfway paying attention as

Michelle talked about the classes they offered. I

felt a little guilty as we approached the reception

area and reached out a hand to stop her before we

got back into the lobby.

“Hey, not that I don’t appreciate the tour, but I

kind of have a confession to make….”

Michelle looked at me curiously. “Yeah?”

“I can’t really afford a membership to this

place, and even if I could, it would be wasted on

me anyway.”

Michelle blinked and gave a puzzled laugh.

“Then why are you here?”

“Well,” I said hesitantly. God, it was

embarrassing, awkward like a geeky high schooler

asking a girl out for the first time. “I thought, you

know, since we work so close, maybe… we could

do lunch sometime?”

Michelle tilted her head and looked at me for

a long moment, considering. “You could have

asked that before the tour, you know.”

I winced a little. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“That’d be cool,” she said after a few more

seconds. “As long as you know I’m not into guys.”

The confession startled a laugh out of me,

although the words themselves weren’t a surprise.

I’d suspected as much. “Well, that’s okay,” I told

her with a grin. “Because I am.”

WHEN I got home, I was feeling happier than I’d

been in days. Michelle and I had exchanged

numbers and walked down to Sunset Smoothies,

where I bought her a peach-basil to apologize for

the whole tour thing. She’d accepted with good

grace, apparently amused by the entire situation,

and we’d chatted for a bit before she excused

herself to get back to the gym. I thought we could

definitely be friends, given half a chance.

I unlocked the front door and waved at Rue

and Erik, who were in the living room, curled up

together on the couch, watching one of the
Star

Trek
movies. Erik was focused intently on the

screen, but I could tell Rue wasn’t really paying

attention. He had his head on Erik’s bare chest, his

eyes half-closed as Erik’s fingers sifted through

his straight dark hair. Alice was nowhere to be

seen—probably tucked away in bed already since

it was after eight.

“Hey, Dust,” Rue said sleepily. “Long day?”

“Yeah. Color catastrophe.”

Rue chuckled. “I know how that goes.”

Erik managed to pull his attention from the

movie long enough to give me a broad, if

somewhat distracted, grin. “Hi, Dusty.”

I couldn’t help but smile back. “Did you guys

eat? I could make something really quick if you’re

hungry.”

“Thanks, babe, but we ordered some Thai.”

“Okay. Well, I think I’m going to go take a

show—” I broke off at the unexpected buzzing at

my hip. It took me a second to realize it was my

phone. I fished it out from my jeans’ pocket and

glanced at the screen, thinking maybe it was

Michelle or one of my old coworkers from The

Bean, but the number was unknown. My stomach

jumped when I noticed it was also local.
Oh, God
,

I thought,
it’s him.
Right on the heels of that came,

Don’t be stupid
, followed swiftly by,
Answer the

damn phone, idiot!

I hit the button on the touchscreen and lifted

the phone to my ear with a shaky hand. “H-hello?”

“Hi,” said a familiar voice, sexy and low. “Is

this Dusty?”

Oh, God, it really
was
him. Excitement coiled

in my belly.
Stay cool, Dusty. Just stay cool.

“Yes,” I answered, thankfully sounding a lot

calmer than I felt inside. Inwardly, I was jumping

for joy and squealing. So much for putting him out

of my head. “Archer?”

“Yeah, sexy. It’s me. Listen, I know this is

last minute, but I have the night off. How would

you like to meet up for a drink?”

“Right now?” I asked in a surprised squeak.

“No. In about an hour, maybe. Do you know

where Reilly’s is?”

I nodded, not even thinking about the fact that

he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’ve driven past it

before.”

“Cool. Meet me there at nine thirty?”

I glanced at my watch. That actually gave me

less than an hour to change and get over there. I’d

probably have to take the fastest shower on record

if I wanted to redo my hair, but I wasn’t about to

meet him in my work clothes and stinking of styling