The Break-Up Psychic (10 page)

I turn into the midday heat, letting his proposition hit me on the ass on my way out the door. I walk up the sidewalk and back toward the Bath Shop. This is turning into quite the eventful day for me. My mom’s getting married in three weeks to a man I’ve never met, my ex-boyfriend suddenly wants to talk to me, I’ve agreed to a blind date with a man whose name sounds like something I’ve got in my crisper drawer, and I barely escaped a lunch with Sam James in which I considered eating food straight from his mouth. I don’t know if I’m losing my psychic abilities or if being around Sam is just playing haywire with my senses. All I know is that if I ever want to get my happily ever after, I need to get a grip, and fast.

“I’m confused. Are you going on a date or to a funeral?”

Luanne waltzes into the bathroom and gives me a once over that does nothing for my self-confidence, but she might have a point. I’ve chosen a black dress, black cardigan, and black heels for my ‘hot date’ with Ellery. I lift up onto my tiptoes to assess the damage in the bathroom’s small mirror.

“Is it that bad?” I ask.

“It depends. If you’re going for the undertaker look, you’re nearly there.” Luanne grabs my elbow and pulls me none too gently into her bedroom which has been transformed over the last week into a messy, makeshift closet.

We spent last weekend on a reconnaissance mission to reclaim all of my things from Tim’s apartment. Not wanting to be seen, we snuck into the building through the basement garage and slinked up the first two stairwells, avoiding the lobby elevators. We donned our best burglar disguises of black coats, sunglasses, and baseball caps. We were going for Charlie’s Angels, but I have a feeling it was more Scooby Doo.

When we finally made it to the apartment, I was surprised to see all of my clothes were still hanging in the closet, untouched. I assumed Suzy would’ve strong-armed her way into Tim’s life by now and taken the first opportunity to remove all evidence of me as quickly as she could. But the apartment seemed unchanged, even unlived in. I admit it was a small moment of victory for me.

I left the keys to the front door on the reclaimed wood sofa table right next to a picture of Tim and me on vacation in Key West. We looked so happy that day. We were in love. Well, I was in love, or at least I thought so. Fast forward six months and I’ve turned into a cat burglar, stealing away in the dead of night (okay, it was 5:30 p.m.), and looking back longingly at a home I will never set foot in again. In the end, it only took us two trips to stuff everything I owned into the bed of Luanne’s old pick-up truck.

“Here,” Luanne says, shoving a dress at me and jolting me out of my gloomy thoughts. “What about this one?”

She’s unearthed a pretty yellow summer dress patterned with small white and green flowers.

“I don’t know, Lu. It feels a bit…optimistic.”

“Well, heaven forbid you go on a first date with any optimism,” she throws back, working her way through the heaping pile of clothes covering her arm chair.

She manages to unearth a pretty green dress with a sweetheart collar and a little brown belt around the waist. I recognize it at once as the dress I was wearing the day I caught Tim cheating on me. This is it. I can’t get any further away from an optimistic clothing choice. “Give it here, I’ll wear it.”

Luanne hands me the dress then heads for the living room. As I slip into it, I hear them. The little alarm bells ding-ding-dinging in my head. Yes, alright, I’m using poor Ellery to get back at Tim and put distance between me and Sam James. That doesn’t mean it’s going to end badly. Oh, who am I kidding?

I pull my long dark hair into a somewhat haphazard ponytail and slip on some tan sling-back flats I forgot I owned. That’s the good thing about moving, I guess, rediscovering all of your old clothes. It’s practically like getting a whole new wardrobe. Walking out of the bedroom, I have to step around a kitchen chair which has been placed in the cramped space between the living room and the apartment’s back wall.

“What’s the chair for?” I ask.

Luanne, broom in one hand and comb and scissors in the other, emerges from the kitchen. “Jason’s coming over for a haircut. He’s been after me for another date but I told him I wouldn’t even consider it until he looked less like a caveman.”

“Jason, as in the Yeti that works in Sam’s shop?” I ask, turning my head toward the door as my psychic alarm bells go off in earnest.

“The one and only. Truth be told, I’m in it more for the practice than the date, but he’s not a bad guy. Maybe I’ll get him to take me to the Red Lobster. Something fancy like that.”

I jump at the sound of knocking and watch in slow motion as Luanne approaches the door and turns the knob. The alarm bells which had been sounding on maximum alert a moment ago fall silent as she opens the door. What I don’t understand is why they’ve chosen to abandon me at the same moment Sam James enters the apartment behind Jason’s enormous back.

Sam’s dressed in his usual uniform of black leather jacket, white fitted t-shirt, and jeans that make me want to caress his thighs in a very inappropriate manner. I have to remind myself of my strict no dimple licking policy and offer up a shaky smile as they fill the small room.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here. Ellie, right?” I assume Jason is smiling as he says this, but I can’t really tell under that tangle of a beard. He nudges Sam with an elbow and raises his eyebrows at me. Subtle as a bulldozer, this one.

“Hey, Ellie. How’ve you been?” Sam asks, his smile making me dizzy.

“Sam, hi…Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” I sputter, giving him an awkward little wave. I suddenly can’t figure out what to do with my hands. Should I put them behind my back? Find a pair of silk gloves? Shove them down the front of his pants?

“Are you here to get a haircut too?” I ask, pushing my hands into the pockets of my dress where they will hopefully stay out of trouble.

“Nah, I just thought I’d tag along, maybe see if we could find some time to conduct that research we’ve been talking about.”

Lord, this man is testing my strength. I look to Luanne for help but she’s ignoring me in favor of maneuvering Jason’s massive frame to the kitchen chair in the hallway. Luckily, she thinks better of it when the wood elicits a loud ‘
crack
’ before he’s even fully seated. Luanne pulls Jason up and redirects him to the sofa instead, the only piece of furniture in the apartment which can handle his size. When she finally catches my wild gaze, I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s not going to help me with this situation at all.

“Well, I’m afraid you’ve come all this way for nothing, Sam. Ellie here’s got herself a hot date tonight. Isn’t that right, girl?”

I half smile, half glare at Luanne, willing her to shut up. I told her about running into Sam at Becky’s Diner and explicitly asked that she keep the whole blind date thing on the down-low. She was adamant, however, that telling Sam about Ellery would be an excellent opportunity to see what his reaction would be. Seems like she thinks she’s pretty damn smart right about now.

I try to laugh off her announcement, but it comes off as more of a cackle. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you say?” asks Sam, his handsome face looking less than pleased as he fixes an intense gaze on me.

“Oh, well, I’m just going out with my friend’s cousin’s son. Apparently he doesn’t get out much and I just said I’d do her this favor.” I am a lying liar.

“Is that a fact? What’s this poor soul’s name?”

“It’s Celery. I mean Ellery! It’s Ellery.”

“What in the hell kind of name is that?” barks Jason, turning his gargantuan head toward Sam and me. “Sounds like a damned vegetable. What you going out with a vegetable for when Sam’s here for you?”

Sam, waving off Jason’s question without dropping my gaze, says, “Now, now, Jason, the lady said she’s just going out with this Ellery as a favor to a friend. We can’t find fault with that. It is just a favor, right? I mean, this isn’t a real date or anything? After all, you’re not ready to date again, are you, Ellie?”

I feel the blush breaking out across my cheeks as he focuses all of his attention on me. Was Luanne’s suspicion right? Could Sam James be jealous? Words have left me so I nod, stupidly, and try to avoid direct eye contact. But I can feel his eyes on me, traveling up the length of my body while he just stands there, calm and collected. I can’t stop myself from raising my eyes to meet his and that blush goes from my cheeks to my ears to my toes.

“If she was ready to date again,” he continues, “I’m sure she would choose a man who knows how to show a lady a good time.” He takes a step closer to me. “A man who’ll take his time with her, getting to know her better.” Another step forward and he’s a mere foot from me. My left hand on red-alert shoots up to push back hair that’s already pulled back in a ponytail. He smiles lazily at me and for a moment I forget to inhale. He leans in close, places a warm, slightly rough hand on my shoulder and whispers into my ear, “Breathe.”

I drag in a thick breath and feel my pulse racing. It’s as though my heart has skipped a thousand beats and is now trying to compensate for the loss. His hair tickles my face as he pulls back slowly. He’s so close to me, I literally have to bite down on my tongue.

“Good grief!” Luanne calls out, releasing a ‘
woo
’ of air. “You two keep it up and I’ll be forced to get out the hose.”

Luanne resumes clipping off long sections of Jason’s hair as he sits smiling and wiggling his overgrown eyebrows at Sam and me, clearly enjoying the show.

I jump at the sound of someone else knocking on the door, and the muteness which always surrounds my encounters with Sam is shattered by the return of alarm bells. I’m glad for the interruption as it provides me with an opportunity to move away from Sam and his effect on me. I force my shaky legs to walk to the place where my blind date is incessantly rapping. The bells are literally blasting their way through my skull, and then I see why.

I’m not mean by nature, but when I open the door and see the man standing on the other side of it, holding a bouquet of wilted daisies and dressed in what must have been his grandfather’s three-piece suit, I have to stop the laughter that tries to escape. It’s like the universe is saying,
‘See, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Ellery Jude-Thomas. Are you Eleanor?” He’s a human walking stick.

“Oh, wow…you’re Ellery?” I stammer, desperately thinking up ways to keep the people inside the apartment from getting a glimpse of the man outside it.

“Indeed. And you’re Eleanor O’Keefe, is that correct? I haven’t got the wrong apartment, have I?” he asks, looking down the hallway.

If I say yes, Sam and Ellery never have to meet. “No, you don’t,” I say, forcing the words out of my mouth. “I’m Eleanor but please, call me Ellie.” I know I should invite him in, I know it’s the right thing to do, but I really don’t want to.

“I prefer Eleanor. It reminds me of my grandmother,” he says as he pushes past me through the door with three long, gangly steps.

Luanne, scissors in mid-cut, freezes at the sight of my date. Fortunately she’s quickly revived by the sound of Jason’s howling laughter.

“Woo-
hoo
, so this is the hot date! Well, Sam, I think you’re going to have to go back on your words. Looks like ‘
Eleanor
’ here has met her match.”

Great, they heard.

Jason, slapping his Sasquatch-sized thighs, is the only person in the apartment who seems to think this is some kind of joke. My mouth is hanging open and I can’t seem to command it shut. I may need to cancel the date in favor of writing Brook’s eulogy after I murder her.

Sam saves us all from an uncomfortable silence by offering a handshake to my date who appears to be completely oblivious to the fact that we’re all treating him like a zoo animal. “Sam James, nice to meet you.”

Ellery accepts the handshake in a rather unimpressive and limp wristed manner which elicits another boisterous laugh from Jason. “Ellery Jude-Thomas.”

“Jude, is that a middle name?” asks Sam.

“No, it’s a hyphen. I believe in parental name equality.”

I sort of want to punch him in the mouth just to keep him from saying anything else.

“Is that so? Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that before. How about you, Ellie, you ever met a man with a hyphenated last name before?”

I’m too embarrassed to meet Sam’s challenging gaze. “I guess there’s a first time for everything! Anyway, should we get going?” I ask, desperate to flee this nightmare.

“Yes, indeed. I have an excellent date planned but first I must ask, how do you feel about moths?”

“Moths?” I ask, dumbly.

“Yes, the butterflies of the night, as I like to call them. Do you have any fear of them?” he asks, cocking his head to the side, waiting for my response.

An image leaps to my mind of a basket, a bottle of lotion, and a small white dog. I don’t want to be made into a skin suit! “No, I don’t think so…”

“Excellent,” exclaims Ellery. “I think you and I are going to have a marvelous time.” The way he rubs his hands together as he says this does not make me feel better about our date.

“Don’t worry,” says Luanne, “if you’re not home by midnight, I’ll call Jodie Foster.”