Catas-trope

I slid balm over my chapped lips and shoved the stick back into my purse. Tap: my earbud case hit the sidewalk. A man with thick hair and an expensive suit scooped it up.

“Ness? Vanessa Hargreaves? Wait, no, you changed it.”

“I went back to Hargreaves after the divorce.”

“Me, too,” my best friend from childhood said. “I mean, divorce. No name change here. Wow, Ness, you look amazing.”

“So do you.”

“I have to get to a meeting, but it would make my day if we could get coffee after. It would make my month.”

“Great,” I said. “Two o’clock at Goody Two Brews?”

Mitch placed my earbud case in my hand, our fingers brushing. “It’s a date.” We parted. I pinched myself just hard enough to know I wasn’t dreaming.

I walked to the storefront of Anne Teak’s. The windows displayed vintage toys and a Kitchen Aid stand mixer that may have dated back to the 1920’s. Inside, I overheard a phone call. “I know all about Murano glass.” His voice was deep and compelling. “Thursday at ten works perfectly. Thank you.”

I rounded a case of vintage clown figurines just as the clerk hung up. Butterflies swarmed in my core when I took in his broad shoulders. Could I get used to seeing such masculine perfection every workday?

“Hi. I’m Vanessa Hargreaves. I’m supposed to have a job interview with Nathaniel Asterbloom.”

“Call me Nate.”

The Adonis and I quickly fell into a comfortable rapport, friendly as a date but innocent enough for the workplace. All went smoothly until he stopped short and said, “Your necklace.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that a river stone on a silk ribbon would look out of place against my business-casual sweater. “My great-grandmother gave it to me with a fairy tale about rocks with holes.” I adopted a brogue: “A gifted lass can use an adder stone to shatter any glamour.” I raised the pendant to my eye and my jaw dropped. Through the stone's hole, Nate’s beauty amplified supernaturally. His smooth skin radiated gentle light. Sapphire eyes sparkled like literal gemstones in the sun.

“You know me now,” Nate said. “I am third in line to the high throne of the Seelie Fey. Come to the land of Faerie, where you’ll master both courtly intrigue and spellwork.”

“This is a lot.” I backed away. “I need to process.”

“Of course, my Fated Mate. You know where to find me.”

I nope’d out of that shop and down the block so quickly that I collided with someone.

“I’m so sorry,” I sputtered. “I’m having the most unbelievable day and I let it distract me.”

“I didn’t realize a citizen would brutalize a police officer with her skull.” He winked flirtatiously.

I blinked at the tasteless joke, then did a double-take at his athletic build and bedroom eyes. Why was I reacting to every hunk I saw like a cat in heat? How long had it been since I’d gotten laid?

“Here.” He tore a page out his little notebook, wrote down his phone number, and handed it to me. “Text me.”

I hid my discomfort behind a polite smile. Then I hoofed it to Ronnie’s on Third, where my best friend Jolie tended bar. She grinned and had a Shirley Temple ready before I sat down.

“I am having the craziest day,” I told her.

“Was the interview that bad?” she asked. She tapped a vodka bottle. “Should I dirty up that Shirley for you?”

David, one of the waiters, approached with a written order. “Hey mama.” He shook the paper at Jolie. “Karen is under the impression that an Old Fashioned requires muddled cherries. She made me write it down.”

“I’ll handle the ‘Karen,’” Jolie told him. “You get Ness the lunch special.” In no time at all, I had a plate of brisket, mashed potatoes, and sautéed Brussels sprouts.

“That smell,” rumbled Handsome Man Number Four, suddenly beside me. He gave me a hungry look. “You are destined to be my lifelong mate,” he murmured. “Be the alpha female of my werewolf pack.”

“I’ll pass!” I snapped.

Five immediately took the werewolf’s seat with a wide grin. “You’re grumpy. I’m a ray of sunshine!”

“No thanks,” I told him.

“Oh crap,” David said, watching Six take Five’s place. “Hey, Jolie?“

I glared at Six. “Steve. What are you doing here?”

Steve nodded. “You thought I was a jerk when I dated your ex’s sister.”

Jolie returned. “What’s up?”

David said, “Catas-trope. My roommate had one last year, but it was sitcoms. He taped a line down the middle of our dorm.”

Steve said, “We’ll bond over volunteer work. Enemies-to-lovers.”

“No!” I turned to David. “A romance novel catas-trope? Why?”

David shrugged and walked away.

Jolie said, “Maybe you can break out of it with a different genre?”

Seven approached. I declared, “This is my villain origin story.”

Seven tapped the motorcycle club badge on his jacket. “We can do all sorts of villainous stuff on my hog.”

“I can’t. My planet needs me.”

A gorgeous woman slid into place on my other side. “I’m aggressive enough to overcome your inhibitions, but I respect your boundaries.”

I stood, improvised a soft shoe routine, and sang, “Leave me alone, don’t call my phone, I want to be on my own!”

The glamazon left at the same time as a beatnik with a red rose, a couple holding leather floggers, a fire fighter, and someone with a white lab coat and hospital ID.

Jolie and I watched them go. She poured me a Dirty Shirley. “Now what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I glared at my author through the fourth wall. “Well, Deanna? What next?”