“Well, thanks a lot. I’ll have you know I’m not a bad catch. I’m smart and nice and outgoing and a decent conversationalist, and I like to keep things clean, and I’m okay with money, and I’m not terrible to look at.”
Vivian had never considered herself a great beauty, but she had a heart-shape face, long, wavy dark hair, large eyes, full lips, and a dimple on her chin. She used to wish she was taller and thinner, but she’d gotten comfortable with her body now, and she knew plenty of men liked the shape of her. She hadn’t had much luck with relationships, but it wasn’t because of the way she looked.
“Of course you’re not terrible to look at. You’re gorgeous. But I still don’t think I’m the right person to hook you up with older men. Why would you even ask me?” It was one of those rare times when the amused dryness of his expression broke into something real. This time it was slight bewilderment.
She tried not to get hung up on the way he’d called her gorgeous. Instead, she asked, “How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-eight. What does that have to do with anything?”
“So you’re the right age for what I’m looking for. I don’t know any other men your age I’d be comfortable asking about it. You really don’t know anyone who might be interested in me?”
What she really wanted him to say was that he was interested in her, but that was a daydream. He’d had every opportunity to ask her out for month after month after month, and he’d never done so.
“I...” He cleared his throat, shaking his head briefly. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“Okay. Good. Think about it.” She flashed him a smile and glanced down at her phone.
Megan had texted a couple of minutes ago, saying she’d swapped out her shift but was on her way to campus now. When Vivian looked toward the door, she noticed Megan outside on the sidewalk, waving through the window at her. She collected her mostly empty coffee cup and the empty plate her muffin had been on. “I’ve got to teach this afternoon, so I better get going. If you can think of anyone who might want to date me, let me know.”
Rick gave her a mild eyeroll before he turned back to his laptop, but he didn’t seem genuinely annoyed with her, so she didn’t let it worry her. She put up her dishes and then headed outside to join Megan.
“Sorry,” Megan said immediately. “I thought I’d told you. There’s a lecture on campus I want to go to this afternoon, so I moved my shift to tomorrow.”
“No worries. I’ve got to get to campus anyway, so I’ll walk with you.”
They lived in a small town that housed a large university, so there were plenty of convenient apartments. They both lived close to downtown and less than a mile away from campus.
“So what was going on with Rick in there? It looked like a very intense conversation.”
“It wasn’t intense. It was just me being all out there like normal and him pretending to be aloof and snotty. I was actually asking him if he had any friends to set me up with.”
“What?”
Vivian laughed at her friend’s shocked face. “Yep. I was drying my hair this morning and had a brainstorm. The reason my dates are all crap is because I’m dating all these immature losers my own age. I need to date older men. So I asked Rick if he knew anyone.”
“Why don’t you just ask him? He’s the one you really want to go out with.”
“Not anymore. I know I had a crush on him for a while, but it didn’t go anywhere. I did everything I could. I dressed up all pretty and was always around and practically threw myself at him. You know subtlety isn’t my strong point, so it had to be obvious to him. He isn’t interested.”
“But you never actually asked him out.” Megan was tall and slim with light brown hair and a pretty, freckled face. She’d traveled for several years after high school, so she was working her way through her undergraduate degree now. “Just ask him out. What could it hurt?”
“It could lead to a mortifying rejection, and that would mess up what we have now. I like him. A lot. And I don’t want things to get weird between us. They will if I ask him out when I know he’s not interested. But I do want a guy kind of like him. So going for older, more mature men seems like a good idea.”
“You’re not going to be able to duplicate him, even if you date other men in his age range.” Megan was always like that. Sensible and no-nonsense.
“I’m not trying to duplicate him. I want a relationship, so why shouldn’t I give it a try? I’ve been dating as much as I possibly can for months now trying to get over him, and nothing has worked out. Maybe it will work out with someone older.”
Megan shrugged. “Okay. If you say so. Is he going to set you up with anyone?”
“He said he’d think about it.”
“Did he mean it?”
“I think so. And, if he didn’t, I’ll keep asking him. I’m serious about this. I can’t have Rick, but I still want to find a guy I can fall in love with. So I’m going to give my older-man plan a try.”
Megan laughed at this, but not in a mean way. She seemed to understand.
Vivian was excited about the idea again. Filled with hope. Maybe this was what she’d needed all along. A better focus for her dating efforts. She liked her life in order, and right now her social life wasn’t even close.
One day soon, maybe she’d find someone to love.
It didn’t have to be Rick.
RICK GRANT HAD ALWAYS been cursed with bad timing.
He’d been writing science fiction all his life and completed with first novel at twenty years old. But there had been no interest in his book from agents or publishers, so he’d focused on law school instead, sidelining fiction to his occasional down times. He’d kept writing throughout his twenties whenever he could, but he’d only decided to pursue it intentionally again when he’d moved back here to his hometown and was hating every minute of working at a small local law firm.
At thirty, he’d cleaned up his best novel and ran the submission gauntlet again. There had been plenty of interest but no actual book deal, so he’d decided to self-publish it instead. He’d done better than he expected—good enough that a reputable publisher had picked up his series after the fourth book. He would never be a top author, but he wrote fast enough and sold well enough to make a decent living at it. But he should have started self-publishing when he first moved back to town instead of taking a crappy job he’d known he’d despise. He hadn’t wanted to take the risk, and it wasn’t because he was a cautious person. Rather, he always felt like he was living life on the sidelines, watching the world go by but never participating fully in it. That was why he’d had a breakdown in D.C. It wasn’t because he hadn’t been able to do the job. Rather, the stress of his workplace plus the pressure his then-girlfriend was putting on him to get married had threatened the way he’d always understood himself. Life was on the verge of turning real—thrusting him out of his safe, distant, observer position—and he couldn’t handle it.
That was also the reason he’d delayed trying to get published again. If he’d started self-publishing earlier, before everyone else had jumped on the bandwagon and inflated the book market, it would have been easier for him to find a larger audience, and he might have really hit it big.