Page 1 of The Loophole

1

Embry

I loved hanging out in coffee houses, because they were the perfect place to eavesdrop. Okay, yes, the drinks and pastries were good too, but my fellow customers were more entertaining than most TV shows.

On this particular Tuesday evening, I’d been picking sides in a squabble between siblings, while watching a hipster with an honest-to-god manual typewriter slowly peck out the Great American Novel with one finger.

This was San Francisco, so the typewriter wasn’t even that weird. But this particular hipster was doubly entertaining because every time he finished a sentence, he’d read it out loud. The last one was, “My ennui sat upon me with the crushing weight of infinite dying suns.” Just wow.

Then the holy grail of eavesdropping opportunities presented itself. A blind date began to unfold at the table behind me. It started out pretty lackluster, though.

“Hey, you must be Bryson. I’m Theresa.”

“Yes, hi, thanks for coming. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine with water.”

“Okay. Um, have you been here before?” To Starbucks? Dude, step up your game.

“I usually go to the one by my office, but they’re all pretty much the same, right?”

“I guess so.” Poor guy, he sounded nervous. He had a nice voice, though. I wanted to turn around and find out what he looked like, but since he was directly behind me, all I’d see was the back of his head. “You work as an administrative assistant, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you like it?”

“It pays the bills, but it’s only temporary.”

“Yeah, your profile mentioned you’re an actress. That’s actually why I decided to reach out to you.” That was a little odd.

“That’s a little odd.” I had to fight back a giggle when she said exactly what I’d been thinking. “Do you have an acting fetish or something?”

“No. The thing is, I’m not exactly looking for a date.” Huh?

“Huh?” This woman and I were definitely on the same page. I wondered if he was cute, at least. I could forgive a lot of quirks if a guy was cute.

“I want to get married.” Dude, too soon!

“That’s nice. I do too, someday. Like, maybe in five years, or?—”

“No, the thing is, I have to get married now. I’m on a deadline.”

“Are you trying to get your U.S. citizenship? Because I can sympathize, but?—”

He cut her off again, this time with, “No, it’s a condition of my inheritance.” Plot twist! “I need to get married this month, or I’ll lose a small fortune. It doesn’t matter who I marry, as long as it happens before December twenty-second.” Just what every girl wanted to hear.

“What the hell?”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said. “I need a one-year commitment because I’ll only get the money after being married for a year. At that point, I’ll pay you a hundred thousand dollars.”

I heard the sharp sound of a chair scraping over the floor as Theresa yelled, “You’re trying topay meto be with you? What do I look like, a whore? Fuck you, you overprivileged douchebag!”

“No, it’s not like that! I?—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because she threw her drink in his face and stormed off. Fortunately, it was just water, since I was caught by the overspray. I heard heels clicking and turned to see a petite blonde stomping out the door. Good for her.

That bit of coffee house drama attracted the attention of everyone within earshot. Twenty heads swiveled in our direction. But there wasn’t much to see anymore, so they soon returned to whatever they were doing before this guy publicly humiliated himself.

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