Page 5 of Eight Steps to Alpha

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fe waved her hand in the air, and Becca, their server, immediately came to the table. “You guys need something?”

Fe’s eyes never left Elliot’s, but she leaned forward, and rested her elbows on the table. “I have a question for you,” she said to Becca. “Tattoos. Yes or no?”

Becca didn’t even hesitate before answering. “Yes.” Then hurried away to another table before Elliot could get a word in edgewise.

He paused, narrowed his eyes, and a tiny grin cracked the surface of his lips. Not because of what she’d said, but because everything he thought he knew about women was blown out of the water. Like the time he found his lost tooth in his mother’s drawer and realized the tooth fairy wasn’t real. His grin widened, and he leaned back in his seat. “Point taken,” he lifted his chin. “What else you got?”

“Swagger.”

“Swagger?” he drawled.

“You know, walk like a man, move like a man…”

“I know what swagger is,” he choked. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, I am a man, therefor—”

Fe covered her mouth, as if to hide a grin. “I don’t mean to offend you, Elliot, and maybe that’s not the right way to describe it. Here…” She sat straighter in her seat, scanning the bar. “There.” She nudged her chin to the front of the restaurant. “See that guy over there?” She waited for him to turn and look. “That’s what I mean. See how he exudes confidence? How his shoulders are nice and square, how his head is held high, and he’s looking at everyone and no one all at the same time? “

“Want me to get his number?” Elliot drawled.

She met his eyes, clearly not amused by the theatrics, and lowered her gaze to the paper. “Drink.” She added to the list. “Ask without asking.”

“Yeah, that’s not confusing at all.”

“Fight.”

“Fight?”

“Eight.” But she held up one finger, stopping any farther commentary. “Sports. And I don’t mean color runs, or mud whatever it is you do. I mean football, and not the video game versions.”

He met her stare, realizing for the first time, how serious she was. This wasn’t some silly conversation to her. She meant to help him and in any way she could.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What’s wrong with video games?”

She shook her head, her eyes laughing in that comfortable way of hers. “Nothing, Elliot. There’s nothing wrong with video games.”

They continued working out the details, or rather, Fe continued working out the details, and Elliot listened. The more she spoke of it, the more excited she became, which in turn made him excited too. They only had four weeks for the transformation to take place, so they needed to get started. He could see it now: Mary coming home from her trip and him looking like a total stud. The only rule, and Fe made herself perfectly clear about this part, was that he had to listen to her. No arguing.

Easy enough.

At the end of the night, they walked into their shared apartment where she anchored the list to their refrigerator with a magnet that read “Nerdy by Nature.”

They both stared at it, like some complex instructions for building a time machine. “Eight steps to Alpha,” Fe said softly.

Elliot took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, as though he’d just gotten out of a twelve-hour study session.

Fe turned to him with sleepy eyes and stretched her arms overhead. “Well, I better get to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

He nodded, but couldn’t stop himself from looking back to the refrigerator again. “Yeah.”

She patted his shoulder one last time and then turned to the cabinet. She pulled out her Terminator glass from the lowest shelf, then proceeded to fill it half way with water. “You’re perfect the way you are. You know that, right?”

It was close to midnight, and the apartment was so quiet, he could hear the refrigerator running. Just a low rhythmic hum. No dogs were barking in the alley, no cars driving by on the street below. Just simple and cozy and quiet. The way he liked it. “Of course I am. I mean, look at me.” He waved his hand over his Khaki’s pants and untucked dress shirt. “God’s gift to women.”

She shot him a wry grin, then set her glass on the counter by the sink. “Night, Elli.”

He waited for her to go to her room, for the door to click closed behind her, then picked up the glass, rinsed it, and set it out to dry. “Night, Fe.”

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