All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich, I'm just playing.
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Chapter 4: Binkie
Steph's waiting for me by the SUV we're taking out today. We're all still feeling our way around her working at Rangeman, and so far, it's been cool. Good, even. The fact that she didn't balk at getting some training made us a little more open to having her on the team. She's a lot better at searches and background checks than us, so those of us in the bonds group definitely like having her around. The files we're going after today are a few mid-level white collar dipshits, so the day shouldn't be too crazy. Crap! Jinx! Never say shit like that near the Bombshell, it's like flipping off the universe and asking for trouble. I'm so busy trying to figure out how to break the jinx, I almost miss her speaking to me.
"So, how've you been?"
Crap. We went after some skips a few days ago, not long enough time for that kind of question. Everyone knows about Steph setting Zero up on a date. Looks like I might be next. I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but Zero's night didn't exactly go well. Maybe she's just making small talk. "Good. You?"
She gives me a quick smile. "Pretty good. Always glad to get out of the office."
One of the things we all love about Steph is that she's genuine, whether it's talking to people for information or checking in on us. She cares and it shows, even when she doesn't want it to. Things have been cruising along at Rangeman for the last few months. She's happy, so Ranger's whatever his version of his happy is, which means we're not getting called to the mats. Win plus win equals win. That's just good math. We chat for a few minutes about everything and nothing before her leg starts bouncing. I glance at her a few times, catching her turning her head away from me when I catch her looking at me. "You ok?"
She forces out a smile. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"Problem?" Please say no, please say no, please say no. Bombshell problems are above my paygrade.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
Damn. I am next. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as we pull up to a stoplight. "Nope."
"There's this girl—"
"Am I allowed to ask how well you know her?"
I should feel bad about cutting her off, but I have no interest in laying out the cash Zero did just for a rejection. The eyeroll she gives me makes me want to smile and I have to work hard to keep my face blank. "Point taken. Her name's Christy. I went to high school with her."
"Did you like her in high school?"
Steph shrugs. "She was ok. Not popular, not unpopular. Got along with most people. On the swim team and something else. Debate team, maybe?" She thinks for a minute, even looking at the roof of the SUV like it held answers. "She works for a PR firm now. Dated a guy for two years, but they broke up about four months ago. I asked my mother and grandmother, but neither of them knew why and haven't heard any rumors, so nothing crazy."
I stew on that. It's been a while since I've taken a woman out and I promised my mom I would at least try and get out more. At the time I was just telling her what she wanted to hear, but it might be nice to get to know someone; it's just a first date, not a lifetime commitment. Well, maybe I should learn from Zero's mess and feel her out on the phone first. What's the worst that could happen? Uncomfortable meal and going home alone? Been there, done that.
"Fine, give her my number."
Steph beams and opens the file on the top of our stack. "Brian Hensen, embezzler. Let's grab this jerk."
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Christy calls me the next night and we spend an hour talking. She's not throwing off any red flags as we share the basics about ourselves. We agree to meet at a local brewhouse that has an eclectic bar and grill menu, meaning I won't have to take out a loan for the date. Since Steph didn't really give me a description of Christy and it seems rude to ask, I describe myself and tell her I'll be wearing a blue button-down shirt.
After work the next day, I battle a bout of nerves and spend the entire trip down the stairwell telling myself to calm the fuck down. It's just a date. As I near my car, I see Zero heading in for his shift. He smirks at me before offering a fist bump. "Dead man walking. Nice knowing you, sucker."
We laugh together, acknowledging that only Steph could rope us into blind dates. "Any last-minute advice?"
"Yeah. Show up with flowers."
I offer a half-assed salute as I continue on, already knowing I'd be stopping somewhere for flowers. Probably a grocery store just so I can see what she says.
With a small bouquet of sunflowers, I stand near the hostess stand at BJs. Women enter here and there, but mostly in groups or walking directly to other women. Finally, a brunette with hazel eyes walks in wearing jeans, a sweater, and boots with a heel. She scans the area, looking unsure. When she gets to me, her eyes drop to my shirt before meeting mine. I step forward. "Christy? I'm Binkie."
Her eyes go wide for a second before she steps forward and offers her hand. "Hi."
I'm not sure what causes the reaction, but I offer my hand. She takes it and the spark that shoots through me is unexpected. We both stand there, not letting go, until someone jostles me as they move through the area. Our hands drop and I hold out the sunflowers. "These are for you."
Her smile is like a gut punch. Zero's date might have been high maintenance, but she wasn't wrong about the flowers. Our fingers brush as we transfer ownership of the bouquet and that gets me a nice blush. The hostess chooses that moment to let us know our table is ready, breaking the spell. I debate for a moment before finally reaching over and putting a hand at the small of her back. Yep. Spark. The small inhale of breath tells me she feels it, too. I wait until she's seated before moving to my side of the table and sit. Before we can start talking, a server appears and asks if we want a drink. I look to Christy first and try not to react when she orders a Yeungling. Based on our conversation last night, I would have expected her to get a glass of wine. Whatever. We came to a pub style restaurant, so a beer makes more sense. I request Guinness on tap and order a plate of mozzarella bites to get us started.
Once that's done, silence settles over us. It's not entirely awkward but I'm glad when she smiles and asks about my day. Her voice is deeper in person and it's doing things to me. Shaking that thought off, I pick a story to break the ice. I'm in the middle of telling her about chasing a skip down an alley when I realize she looks a bit confused. She asks a couple questions before laughing when I get to the part about rolling in some unknown substance and having a parade of feral cats trying to follow me back to the SUV. Normally it would have been Steph covered in shit, but I guess today was my turn. Steph, bless her, didn't even laugh, just met me at the rig with one of the emergency blankets already spread out over the passenger seat. Christy asks if that happens a lot and I'm happy to tell her it doesn't.
Our drinks are delivered and after a sip, she asks, "So. Binkie?"
I can't help the grimace that forms. It doesn't quite sound right coming out of her mouth. I give a half shrug. "Navy. You don't get to choose your nickname."
"It chooses you?" she asks with a smirk.
I couldn't stop the snort if I tried. "Something like that."
She silently mouths Binkie a few times before shaking her head. "What?"
The blush on her cheeks is immediate. "Nothing."
The way she looks down at her lap, still blushing, says otherwise. "Is it going to be a problem?"
"Nope."
I can tell she's trying not to laugh and I'm not sure how to take it. I mean, I'm not a fan of it, but I'm stuck with it. If it's going to be a deal breaker, I'd rather know sooner rather than later. "Seriously, it's just a nickname. Everyone calls me it, and I'm used to it at this point."
"No, it's fine. I just…" She pauses and I raise an eyebrow. Christy sighs, blushes again and takes a drink of her Yeungling. "In my head I was trying to imagine screaming out Binkie during sex and I just can't picture it."
I'm glad I hadn't quite gotten my beer to my mouth because I would have choked on it at her quiet words. We're both frozen in a moment that's weighted and yet not awkward. She rubs her cheek. "At least you're not named Tiny. Or Peanut."
I'm still stuck on her imaging us in bed and realize I kind of like the thought. She goes quiet, hand over her mouth, and eyes wide like she can't believe she said any of that out loud. Finally, my brain reengages. A snicker escapes and soon we're both laughing hard enough to get people's attention. When I'm back under control, I offer, "Derek. My real name is Derek."
We both loosen up a bit after that. The server brings out the appetizer and takes our order. The loaded Philly Cheesesteak burger is an interesting choice for a self-proclaimed health nut, but it sounds good, so I order the same. I find myself watching her nibble at the batter of a mozzarella bite and use her tongue to clean up a bit of dip from the corner of her mouth. Entranced, I miss what she says and have to ask her to repeat herself. "What exactly do you do at work?"
On the phone, we had talked a bit about our jobs, and now, with her confusion earlier, it feels a bit weird. Mentally shrugging, I give her the highlights again and ask a few questions about working in public relations. Her answers are halting and vague before she changes the subject. Despite that, conversation flows decently well, and I think about how we just sort of mesh and hope it's not my imagination.
Over our entrees, we switch to talking about free time activities. Halfway through our burgers, when I ask how she likes her gym and bring up the pool, she says, "Not a fan of the chlorine smell or what it does to my hair. I'd prefer to be outside in the sunshine."
Weird. Steph mentioned Christy was on the swim team in high school, and on the phone last night she talked about joining the gym specifically for the pool. It's not the first time she contradicted herself, either. It's been a bunch of little things adding up. Like ordering a beer when she talked about wine on the phone or being more comfortable in jeans despite joking about a closet full of dresses during our call. Her story about hiking despite swearing she was a city girl is another one.
The longer our meal lasts, though, the quieter she becomes, which sucks because I really like her and was planning to ask her out again. The server appears during a lull in the conversation and asks if we'd like to order dessert, but she doesn't seem to hear him. She's staring at the flowers while worrying her napkin in her lap.
"Christy?" I wait, wondering why her hand clenches.
Her features are pinched as she looks at me. "I can't do this anymore!"
"Do what?"
"Pretend I'm her!"
Color me confused. I feel like we're having two different conversations. I look at the server, who's wearing the same expression that I imagine is on my face. "Can you give us a couple minutes?"
"Sure." He quietly backs away and I'm wondering if maybe I should join him at the bar.
Christy sighs. "Look. I was in line getting a coffee and this woman was freaking out. She was supposed to go out on a date but between the time she agreed to the date and the actual date twenty-four hours later, she got back together with her ex. She couldn't figure out what to say to cancel, but she didn't want to ghost you either and she was running out of time. So, she offered me $100 to go on a date for her. Said I'd be Christy, her, for a night, gave me a general description and said you'd be in a blue button down, punctual, and probably a gentleman."
What the hell? "And you agreed?"
She bites her lip before giving a half-hearted shrug. "I'm a single mom to a construction equipment obsessed four-year-old, so I spend most of my free time playing in the dirt. My dad had already agreed to take my son for the night, but I had no plans beyond putting on some make-up and getting out of the house. A little adult conversation that wasn't about work seemed like a win at the time. She just kept saying how nice you were and how bad she felt."
Nice. It's the kiss of death and now it's resulted in a pity date, which makes that spark I've been feeling suck. Hard.
She's biting her lip again as the silence, this time awkward as fuck, settles around us. With a sigh, she continues. "But I'm sitting here, admitting she's right. You are nice. And sweet, and fun. And it took me less than twenty minutes to realize that I liked you and wished this was a real date. For us, I mean. And I've been feeling like shit for lying to you. It sucks that she might get a call for a second date, and you don't deserve to find out like that that she lied to you. That I lied to you."
I still don't know what to say. I had a date with someone Steph thought would be good for me, and instead of just calling to cancel for a legitimate reason, the woman paid a stranger to take her place. Who does that?
Not-Christy pulls the napkin from her lap and drops it on the table. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to go." She pulls some money out of her purse and starts to stand up. "Look. She'll pay for dinner and we'll just… call it a night. Again, I'm sorry for lying to you. It was stupid."
"Sit." Her face is a mask of shock for a second before her eyes narrow. Shit. The details might be messed up, but the feeling in my gut isn't. "Sorry. Please sit. I just... need a minute to wrap my head around it. I thought you sounded different, but everyone sounds different on the phone. Things weren't lining up with what you… she... said on the phone so this actually explains why. It's kind of a relief. Honestly, despite the weirdness, I'm enjoying this. You. How about we start over." I reach my hand across the table. "Hi, I'm Derek, but got tagged with Binkie in the Navy."
She huffs out a relieved breath and settles back down into her seat and takes my hand. "Nice to meet you again, Derek. I'm Maggie. Accountant, single mom to a four-year-old boy, runner, and hapless gardener."
"That's quite the resume, Maggie. I'm glad you could make dinner." And I am. Because that spark that was there the first time I touched her hand is still there, only stronger.
She tilts her head, looking at our still linked hands. "You caught the single mother part, right? Is that going to be a dealbreaker?"
"Has tonight really been you, or were you just making stuff up?"
Her nose wrinkles and it's fucking adorable. "No, this dorky awkwardness is all me. Jack's already cooler than me, and he still needs help wiping his nose."
I laugh, and it only takes me a second to decide. Other than my niece, I haven't spent much time around kids, but I'm not opposed to them. "Not a problem for me, but maybe we can ease into things?"
Maggie's smile lights up the room. "Cool. I'd like that."
Yeah, cool. We share a hand squeeze and let go as the waiter approaches the table. I wasn't imagining the spark, and I'm looking forward to exploring it. Maybe she can help me figure out a way to explain this date to Steph.
