The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series (23 page)

She’d taken a breadstick and now offered the basket to Mitchell. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Delaney hated it when people closed their eyes and shook their heads. Hated it.
Refrain from judgment
, she reminded herself.

“Well, then I thought about all the time and money I spent on law school. I thought about the long nights studying for the bar exam. I thought about how disappointed my parents will be when I don’t actually use the education I got. And I started to hate myself.”
 

“Do you think you’re just nervous about the interview process and all that?” she said. “I’ve been really nervous about my interviews.”
 

“Maybe.” He picked up a piece of bread. “But I also can’t imagine my life as a lawyer. Nine to five, wearing a tie, you know?”
 

“Yeah, I get it,” Delaney said. “My mom reminded me the other day, though, that once I finally get married and have kids, I’m not going to want to be working all hours of the night. Nine to five is pretty good if you’re a family man.”

“At this point, I don’t think I’m going to be a family man. I can’t stand kids. I mean, they’re dirty, they cry all the time and you have to pay for them to go to college – which they’ll turn around and throw in your face by becoming a lifelong waiter.”
 

Wow
.
I don’t remember talking about this on top of the water tower.
 

Dinner arrived and they ate in relative quiet, speaking only once or twice to comment on her house specialty pesto pasta. So how they ended up back at her place after dinner, she didn’t quite know.

***

“Well, I feel lots better,” Mitchell said. “Would you hand me my glasses?”
 

Although the sex had fallen quite short of great (she’d managed to
almost
enjoy everything except that Mitchell smacked her ass, hard, as he was finishing up), Delaney felt a strange lack of satisfaction. She wanted Mitchell out of her house so she could contemplate it, alone.
 

She handed him his glasses and pulled on her robe, hoping he’d get the hint and take off. But instead, he stretched luxuriously before propping his head on a hand. His pasty skin contrasted starkly with the patchy dark hair on his chest.

“That was nice,” he said.
 

Surprisingly, Mitchell’s sob story at Eddie’s had not gotten Delaney’s juices flowing. In fact, for once, she had wanted to call it a night after dinner. But he’d looked so pitiful when he asked if he could walk her home. She thought it was stupid now, but at the time she’d considered that bringing him home might erase that horrible feeling that had started growing at the base of her neck. Without Summer and Josie hovering via text, she had agreed to the escort as he finished his pizza Margherita.
 

She felt uncomfortable, like she wanted to unzip her skin and crawl away, leaving it empty and crumpled up on the bed next to Mitchell. She was uncomfortable with her decision, with Mitchell, with herself. She wondered why. For one (here she imagined Summer ticking the list off on her fingers), she couldn’t completely ignore Mitchell’s comment about not wanting a family. Two, she’d noticed during the conversation that he gave up so easily. Intimidation, on its own, had kept him from pursuing what he’d once considered a lifelong dream. Dreams change, she knew. But he hadn’t even made it to – much less through – an interview. Third, the spark she’d noticed on their initial date wasn’t there. She couldn’t really say why. Fourth, he was a downer tonight, and she had a feeling this was the real Mitchell, the Mitchell without the first-date sheen. The worst part of it was that she suspected everything she was noticing about Mitchell was the same stuff she disliked about herself.

“Well, I’ve got to get to bed. Job-hunting tomorrow,” she said.
 

“See? You nine-to-fivers miss out on all the fun.”
 

But it worked. He got up, dressed and headed for the door.
 

“When will I see you again?”
 

He leaned in for a kiss and she leapt off the bed before it could even land on her cheek.
 

“Let me settle into this nine-to-five thing, and I’ll let you know,” she said.

Preparing for this particular Happy Hour was going to require some relaxation, Delaney decided Thursday evening. She filled her tub with hot water and scented bath salts and soaked for a half-hour while visualizing the confident Delaney she knew she’d need to be to face Summer and Josie.
 

Happy Hour itself had been a constant in Delaney’s life for the past several years. It was more important than any other aspect of her schedule. So why did she feel so nervous? Wouldn’t they just settle in, like they always did? If not, she had some ammo of her own, she thought as she selected sparkly blue earrings to match her bright blue top.
 

“Hey Dee,” Benjamin greeted her as she walked into Rowdy’s a half-hour later.
 

She didn’t have to wait for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting to see their usual table was empty. Feigning self-assurance, she sat down, hoping the girls wouldn’t stand her up for the first time ever.

“How’s it hangin’, Benjamin?”
 

“Oh, you know. The same. There’s a guy I want you to check out. He’s coming in later.”
 

“For me or for you?”
 

“For me.” Benjamin adjusted his hat.
 

“You look sheepish,” Delaney said. “I’m so intrigued.”
 

“Me, too. I’ll be right back with your drink.”
 

The clock above the bar said it was two minutes after four. Josie came stalking in at the same time as Benjamin returned to the table with a tray.

“Hey, Benji,” she said, then shifted her attention to Delaney. “Dee.”
 

“Ouch,” Delaney said, in an attempt to keep the mood light. “Still mad, huh?”
 

Josie remained standing, and put a hand on her hip. Delaney knew she was in trouble.

“‘Mad’ doesn’t really cover it. As if Summer and I don’t have enough of our own shit going on, now we have to babysit you, too.” ‘

“It was your idea to do The Dating Intervention in the first place! Remember the marquee? The lights? Your idea.”
 

“I didn’t think it involved you turning into a freshman in high school.”
 

“Geez.”
 

“’Geez,’ yourself.” Josie, still standing, gestured with her free hand as she spoke: “Just because that stupid Matt guy, or whoever he was, duped you, you always feel like you have to have a bunch of guys on the side. Second string or whatever, right? And because Matt was a perfectly normal guy, except for the backup system he employed, you feel like you must simultaneously take his advice
and
swear off other normal guys. So you date only losers.”
 

“That was after college. Not freshman in high school,” Delaney said. Desperate to put the spotlight on someone else, she said to Josie, “Let me guess. Bad day? Again?”
 

“What do you think? I chose to teach elementary school so I wouldn’t have to deal with bitchy teenagers. But I’m dealing with them everywhere I turn. In her quest to snag the principal position right out from under me, the conniving Blair Upton has announced she’s starting a sewing club at school. And a racquet club. Seriously? A sewing club? For elementary students?”
 

“What’s this about a sewing club?” Summer asked, approaching the table.
 

Delaney, grateful for the distraction, watched as Summer tossed her purse on the spare chair and sat down. Finally, Josie sat down, too.

“Just another project to piss Josie off, courtesy of Blair Upton. Seems to be going around,” Delaney told her.
 

“She didn’t,” Summer said.
 

“Not yet, but she’s going to,” Josie said.
 

Delaney and Summer looked at each other.
 

“You know what?” Delaney said. “Screw her. She’s an uppity bitch, anyway. We’ll come up with something better.”
 

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Our efforts at a dating club won’t work, obviously.”
 

Oh, so that’s how she’s going to bring this back around to me. I knew it was coming. Relax and inhale that special body cream you put on after the bath
.
Plumeria.
 

It was relaxing, really. But not relaxing enough. Delaney still felt jittery.

“Okay,” Summer said. “Let’s get this out of the way. Dee, we are really pissed off at you. You’re totally interfering with our attempts to help you find real love.”
 

Before she had a chance to answer, Josie added, “We’re doing this for you. Contrary to your opinion, you
don’t
actually know what’s best for you. We do. We know you better than you know yourself. We see the pattern you follow and we want to help you stop it. You said you wanted to stop it, too. Didn’t she? Didn’t she, Summer?”
 

“Well, it was implied, honestly. I guess we never asked her about it.”
 

“I
do
! I do want it! I want to find real love. If I could bottle what I have with you two and somehow transpose it to my relationship with a guy, I’d be thrilled. But I can’t.”
 

“You don’t have to,” Josie said. “You have to stop mucking up our perfectly decent efforts. I feel like you’re doing it on purpose, just to mess with us.”
 

“Oh, Josie, I’m sure she isn’t doing it just to mess with us. She just doesn’t have the confidence to let something sail smoothly along.”
 

“Well, why not?” Josie threw a hand in the air, then slapped her palm on the table for emphasis with each point: “She’s gorgeous. She’s nice. She’s funny. She’s smart. And she’s a real-life veterinarian. Not to mention her wicked uncanny sense for getting a great read on a person.”
 

“She doesn’t think she’s worthy of love from a decent, happy, successful guy,” Summer said. “Even though everything you just said is true.”
 

“But why not?” Finally Josie turned to glare at Delaney. “I’ve had it with you!” she shrieked. “And I need another drink.”
 

“Well, that went well, considering,” Delaney said as Josie harrumphed off to the bar, too impatient to wait for Benjamin to return.
 

“It’s not that we don’t want to do this for you,” Summer said. “We do. But we don’t want you to mess up our hard work. It’s like we’re planting you this beautiful garden. We’re working the soil, we’re watering the tiny seeds and the plants are starting to grow. They’re wonderful, some of them. Others are a little wilted, maybe, but some of them are even getting flowers. And we’re so happy. And then here comes Delaney, stomping on the plants. Not just the wilted ones, but also the beautiful ones, which have so much potential. You’re stomping on our plants, Dee.” Tears filled Summer’s eyes then and Delaney’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Summer shrugged. “Sorry, it’s the hormones.”
 

By now, Josie had returned, still flushed.
 

“Oh, great,” she said to Delaney. “Now you made her cry.”
 

“It’s not hard to do these days,” Summer said, dabbing at her eyes with the end of her skirt.

“I’m sorry for stomping on your plants,” Delaney said quietly, near tears herself. “I’ll do better. I can follow instructions. I’m really sorry. I’ll let them grow.”
 

After a moment of heavy silence, she asked, “Can we change the subject now?”
 

“Please,” Josie moaned. “Let’s.”
 

“How’s the exercise coming, Josie?” Summer asked.
 

“That’s not the subject I was hoping for,” Josie said. “It’s not coming very well.”
 

Although Delaney was tempted to ask if it had something to do with her gym wardrobe, or lack thereof, she decided to tread carefully.
 

“What’s stopping you from going?”
 

“Oh, I don’t know, Delaney. What’s stopping you from actually liking a normal guy?”
 

“Josie,” Summer said in her soothing mommy voice. “We’re moving past it. Remember?”
 

Josie put her head down on her arms.
 

“Right. Sorry. I just haven’t felt like going.” Her voice came out muffled. “It’s pointless. I don’t even like working out.”
 

“Start small,” Delaney suggested. “Go to a class after work.”

“Do you have your tablet?” Summer said. “Let’s look at the schedule right now. Let’s find a class we can all go to together.”
 

Finding a class to agree on was much like finding a man to agree on. Delaney thought spin class would be too hard, Summer didn’t think she was coordinated enough to do Zumba and Josie refused to do anything that required a step. They finally settled on a yoga class Saturday morning, although Josie said she was sure someone would smell like body odor and patchouli.
 

Now it was Josie’s turn to change the subject. “Did you hand out any CDs?” she asked Summer.
 

“I can tell you’re thinking I didn’t,” Summer said. “But you’re wrong. I handed out seven of them. Even left one here. Wouldn’t it be a kick if we performed at Rowdy’s?”
 

“Wow,” Delaney said. “I can’t wait to see you onstage!”
 

“At the rate I’m growing with this pregnancy, though, you won’t be able to see my face past the belly,” Summer said. “But I’m doing it, even if I have to perform while I’m in labor. I’m doing it!”
 

“That’s the spirit,” said Benjamin, who’d returned with another round of drinks. “He’s here, Dee. Back corner, red t-shirt.”
 

The girls all swiveled around to look.
 

“You guys are so obvious!” Benjamin hissed.