One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (14 page)

Read One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) Online

Authors: Sydney Bristow

Tags: #romantic comedy, #romantic romance, #romantic ficton

“So,” Damon said, scoping out the area for
attractive women. “See anyone you like?”

“This isn’t going to work,” Alexander said.
“I’m in love with her, man. I haven’t been able to approach anyone
in a couple years. I can’t force myself to feel something I don’t
feel.”

“But she’s not into you. And as long as you
got this whole lovesick aura going on, she’s going to keep pushing
you further and further away, until one day, she hates you and
never wants to see you again because you want something she can’t
give and she feels too guilty to keep seeing you. That’s your
future. Do you want that?”

“No.”

“When Marisa said you needed to build up
your confidence, she was also telling you subconsciously what she
wants, because right now, you’re not it. But she wants you to be.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have told you, right?”

Damon pointed to the eight-inch scrape on
Alexander’s forearm. “You’ve got a good start. And that’s a lot
more painful than flirting with some woman. Notice I said flirting.
You’re not out here trying to get laid. I’m not saying it won’t
happen…wait, you’ve been in love with Marisa for two years? Are you
saying you haven’t gotten laid in two years?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“That just told me it’s true. Damn, Alex.
Two years? I can see six months, a year even. But two years?” He
looked astonished. “Okay, never mind that. You need to build up
your skills. You remember the movie
Crazy, Stupid, Love
? The
whole Ryan Gosling-Steve Carell Jedi tutorials? Well, think of me
as a poor-man’s Ryan Gosling.

“Only I’m more knowledgeable than him
because I have to be. That dude’s
too
good-looking, so he
doesn’t have to work as hard as me. But think about what Gosling
did: he basically showed Steve Carell how to dress, which isn’t a
problem for you. Then Gosling had Carell watch and listen to how he
picked up women. Soon enough, Carell starts picking up women left
and right.”

“Yeah, Steve Carell can’t be that
strong.”

“Come on, Alex. I’m being serious here.”

“Why do you keep calling me Alex?”

“Because
Alexander
? He’s an
accountant. He’s a pencil pusher. In other words, he’s boring. But
Alex…that dude rides a Harley and he’s a library director. A
risk-taker but intelligent. Understand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“From now on, I’m calling you Alex. Moving
on…Carell snagging nine women? That’s just too far-fetched. The
point of the matter is that he needed to get his confidence back
because his wife, Julianne Moore, no longer found him attractive.
Moore found him attractive once, so when he got his confidence
back, she was into him again. It was pretty easy. You’ve got a more
difficult task ahead of you: encouraging a woman who never found
you attractive to light up when she sees you.”

“Thanks for picking up my spirits.”

“Just need you to know what you’re
facing.”

A petite Asian woman wearing a violet
sweater over a pink button-down shirt and a black skirt that
displayed shapely thighs stepped up to the bar beside Damon. She
paid him no attention: just waited for the bartender to serve
her.

Damon said to Alexander, “Listen to how I
say what I say. Just as important, notice what I don’t say.” He
turned toward the Asian woman and stared at her until she glanced
at him.

She gave him a weird look. “What are you
staring at, freak?”

“Trying to read the clock,” Damon said,
unfazed by her remark. If anything, he relaxed a bit, as though he
found the statement amusing. He redirected his gaze at the wall
behind her. He softened his features to make it apparent that he
finally noticed the time. “Do you attack all men like that when
they’re checking out the time?”

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m
sorry, I thought you were staring. It’s so annoying.”

“Tell me about it. Happens to me all the
time. Women nowadays: no class. Treat men like an accessory they
can throw in their purse and take home, expecting guys to please
them whenever they want. Even more pathetic? So many guys let it
happen.”

The woman chuckled. She turned towards him
and met his gaze. “I don’t think you’d fit in my purse.”

Damon examined her purse; it was about nine
inches long. “You’re right,” he said, glancing from the purse to
his crotch and back to her again. “I wouldn’t fit in there.”

She stared at him for a long moment,
confused. Then she broke into a smile. “That is so dirty.” Her
smile grew in intensity. “Oh, my God. You’ve got such a filthy
mind.”

“Oh, you thought…” Damon let his mouth drop
open. “That’s pretty forward. Here we just met, and you’re already
trying to seduce me? Unbelievable. But like I said: it happens to
me all the time.”

The bartender, a thirty-something man with
frizzy blond hair, stepped up to them. “What’ll it be?”

Damon said to the Asian woman, “You owe me a
drink for the insult
and
trying to proposition me.” He
turned to the bartender. “I’ll take a Miller Light.”

After the Asian woman ordered a couple
Cosmopolitans and the bartender went about making their drinks, she
said to Damon, “Okay, first off, I didn’t proposition you. That was
your deluded mind deceiving you.”

“Hmmm. You admit to having dirty thoughts
about me, a man you just met by the way, and I’m the one who’s
deluded?”

The bartender placed their drinks in front
of them. The Asian woman handed him payment for the drinks and said
to Damon, “If you can get your mind out of the gutter, I’m hanging
out with a friend of mine.” She gestured to the back of the room
and headed off in that direction with a sneaky smile on her
lips.

Damon watched her go, checking out her
curves then turned to Alexander. “What happened there?”

Stunned, Alexander couldn’t believe that
Damon had accused the woman of hitting on him, and that she had not
only enjoyed the banter but actually paid for his drink. “I have no
idea. What the hell just happened? How did you do that?”

“Women like to flirt. Did you see her
attitude when she thought I was staring? She was pissed off. A sexy
woman like that? It happens to her all the time. So I did the
opposite. I made her feel guilty for assuming that I was hitting on
her. Then I got her thinking about sex and suggested that she
wanted me.”

“So act arrogant?”

“Well, don’t
be
arrogant. But
sometimes giving her the impression that you’re a little arrogant
can be a good thing. She picks up on that confidence, and it adds
an air of mystery. She’s thinking: ‘What makes this guy so cocky?’
It creates questions in her mind. But you definitely don’t want to
overdo it. The best way to do it is to act a little egotistic while
being funny. You’d be great at this, because it relies on being
modest. It’s a delicate balance, so be careful.”

“You’re telling me two different things,”
said Alexander. “Be a little arrogant but also kind of humble – at
the same time. How is that possible?”

“Little touches. Don’t boast or show off.
Chicks hate that. It shows that you’re trying too hard. It’s like
saying that you don’t think you’re good enough for her, so you have
to give her reasons to like you. Act a little arrogant but also
somewhat modest when you’re talking about sex or anything leading
up to it.

“Say she says something like, ‘Men have no
idea what they’re doing in bed.’ You can say something like,
“‘Yeah, it’s a real shame. Guys should get a course in sexual
instruction during high school:
How to Please a Woman 101.’

“Okay.” Alexander just stared at him,
unimpressed.

“You don’t get it? I can’t say I’m
surprised. We’re talking women here. Not men. When a woman hears
that, she thinks: ‘he’s kind of funny.’ But just as important,
she’s also thinking, ‘he’s confident enough to say that guys don’t
know what they’re doing in bed.’ That automatically makes her
assume that you
do
know what you’re doing when it comes to
sex. That intrigues her. She’s now wondering all sorts of things:
how many lovers you’ve had; have you been in many long-term
relationships; what makes you think you’re so great in bed? The
list goes on and on.

“But don’t overdo it,” Damon added. “And
don’t goof around. The difference is that joking around comes
naturally from the conversation. Goofing around is trying to get
her attention, basically telling her that you want her attention
because you know she wouldn’t have given it to you otherwise.” He
shook his head. “Not attractive. And if she’s not laughing and
having a good time? Then she doesn’t have a sense of humor. Move
on. Find someone who likes to have fun, someone you enjoy talking
with.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“It’s not. Especially for you, since you’re
used to pleasing customers all day long and you’ve needed the
approval of your female managers for the last thirteen years. You
need a new mindset. It’s going to take a lot of practice.”

“So give the assumption that you’re somewhat
arrogant while being funny.” Alexander took that in. “And don’t
compliment women.”

“Right. A normal guy approaches a gorgeous
woman and tells her how attractive she is. You know what that does?
It kills the attraction you’re trying to build. Even worse, by
telling her you think she’s hot you’re giving her too much power.
It makes you just like all the other guys who say the same thing.
There’s no mystery there. Women want something different. So don’t
compliment them. It’ll make them wonder what you’re thinking about.
It makes them wonder why you aren’t attracted to her like all the
other guys that hit on her all the time. It makes you a challenge.
And don’t think that acting that way is manipulative. It’s not.
Just treat them like any other person. Don’t chase them.”

“Because I must be the only guy who doesn’t
like the chase.”

Damon laughed. “You’re not the only one. In
fact, I’ll bet that only players like the chase.”

“But you’re a player. All those women? Come
on.”

That comment silenced Damon. He looked
uneasy, even pain-stricken. “I don’t like the chase. I hate it!”
His bitter tone conflicted with the easygoing attitude he’d
maintained only moments ago. “Probably 80 percent of women think
it’s true that men love the chase. It’s a fallacy.” And just like
that, the darkness that passed across his face vanished.

“But everyone says—”

“By everyone, you mean women. Women keep
saying men love the chase because they want to believe it. More
than that, they need to believe it. The moment they don’t, it’s all
over for them. Within the first thirty seconds of spotting a man, a
woman knows if she’s interested or not. They’re about 95 percent
certain, anyway. They probably leave 5 percent open in case the guy
has something interesting to say, which doesn’t happen often, so
that’s why it’s only 5 percent.

“What it boils down to is this: a guy walk
up to a girl and that girl decides whether she’s interested or not.
The guy doesn’t get a choice in the matter. He either gets rejected
or is given a chance to get to know the lady in question.”

Alexander stared at him, puzzled.

“Women choose. Men don’t. Think of a king
sitting on the throne when others come to court. In this case, the
woman is on the throne. Guys come courting. We are at their mercy.
So why would women want to say anything other than ‘Men love the
chase’? It gives them tremendous power.”

Astounded by that bit of wisdom, having
never given it any consideration himself, Alexander simply
nodded.

“Let’s boil it down: is Marisa as hot as
that Asian woman who just walked away?”

“Marisa’s the most beautiful woman on the
planet.”

“Okay. If this chick is sick of getting hit
on by losers who don’t know how to build attraction, how do you
think Marisa’s going to relate to that same kind of person? I’m
trying to show you how to speak to Marisa on a different
wavelength, one where she’ll finally think about you
differently.”

“You make it seem so easy,” Alexander
said.

“It’s not. It takes a lot of practice. And
that’s what we’re doing tonight – practicing.”

Alexander nodded, finally understanding what
advice Damon intended to impart.

“Now let’s go talk with those ladies.”

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

 

The next two weeks were the most
uncomfortable period of Alexander’s entire tenure at the Bedford
Falls Public Library. As Damon expected, Marisa rarely saw him
during that time period. But it didn’t start that way. The first
few times they met in the stairwell or in a corridor, she broke
into the beginning of a smile, but then, as though confused about
the status of their friendship, she crushed the happiness that came
over her, lowered her gaze to the floor, and walked past him. On a
few occasions, he’d even seen tears sparkling in her eyes. He hated
not spending time with her.

It didn’t help that each time she walked by,
his heartbeat hammered and his breath came quick. He felt dreadful
for making her feel so uncomfortable, but if given the chance, he
wouldn’t retract his declaration of love. If anything, he was glad
to have revealed the truth.

After the library closed on his final day,
he entered the staff lounge to find a white banner stretched across
the ceiling from one end of the room to the other with bold red
letters stating, “Congratulations, Alexander! We’ll Miss You.”

Seeing over fifty smiling faces clogging the
small lounge made it impossible not to smile. He counted each of
them as a friend, and knowing that he would no longer see them on a
daily basis made happy memories spring to mind: the shared jokes,
the private conversations, and the goofiness they indulged in
during their staff training days, where they relied on teamwork to
enforce mutual trust.

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