Page 24 of Someone Just Like You

“Will do. Enjoy your date. Make sure he wears a French letter.”

I laughed. The British lingo for “wear a condom” was certainly more cryptic thancover your stump before you humpandno glove, no love.“Bye!” We ended the call, and I went back inside, just as a familiar tune played out of the speakers.

Timothy drummed his fingers against the bar to the beat of the song: “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.”

“You like the Beatles?” I shouldn’t have been surprised given he’d referenced Molly Jones at the bagel place, but I was. You rarely heard their music in bars catering to people my age. My dad and Mr. Stark had played their vinyls at most of our family parties growing up, which was how I’d soaked up my knowledge.

Timothy nodded assuredly. “I’m obsessed with buying Beatles albums. My friends say I need help, but I have that one already.” He halted his drumming in dramatic fashion and grinned.

It took me a moment, then I snorted. “Hilarious.”

“I had tons of Beatles puns, but that was yesterday. Now they’re hard to get back.”

I pressed a fist against my lips and laughed.

We continued to exchange witty banter until closing. At one point, it was so quiet, we played jacks with peanuts. Later, he walked me to my lobby. He kissed me, and he kissed me well. I wasn’t ready to take things to the next level, but I practically floated all the way to my apartment.

There was just something familiar about Timothy. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but it was almost like I’d known him my whole life.

Chapter Eleven

Despite Jude’s multiple assurances there would be no more antics, I had my guard up before our second meeting at Society Cafe. He had shifts at Hillstone most evenings, so I skipped out of work during my lunch hour later that week. I half expected to arrive at the venue to find it empty aside from a skeletal staff setting up for dinner or a lone patron having a midafternoon drink at the bar. I was already planning my revenge as I approached the entrance. When I heard someone call my name from behind me, I was caught off guard and tripped, nearly losing my balance.Cha Cha Real Smooth, Molly.I turned around and hoped Jude hadn’t witnessed my literal false step.

He wore relaxed-fit blue jeans, an olive-green crew-neck t-shirt, and a twinkle in his eyes. He clapped. “It takes skill to trip over a flat surface. You’re not there yet, but practice makes perfect.”

I glowered. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not? Our appointment’s in five minutes.” Handing me a CVS bag, he said, “This is from Yogi.”

I looped my index finger through the plastic handles and extended my arm as far from my torso as it would go. What if I was holding a bag of dog shit? Or a bomb?

“It won’t blow up.”

Easy for him to say.I harrumphed but opened the bag. Inside were Goody Ouchless elastic hair ties, Conair Scünci no-slip jaw clips, and butterfly hair barrettes. My jaw dropped.

Jude shrugged. “Yogi says sorry for eating all your hair shit.”

I willed my mouth to work and managed to squeak out, “Did he really?”

Pink dotted his cheeks. “Not at all. I picked those up on the way here because if I brought them home first, he’d seize them for his kingdom.”

“Th…thank you, but it was totally unnecessary.” For one thing, I never wore jaw clips or barrettes, and second of all…who was this guy and what was happening here?

“It was the right thing to do.” He jutted his chin toward the restaurant. “We should go.”

Momentarily entranced, in a way I refused to analyze, by the barely visible chest hair peeking through the over-stretched neck of his shirt, I nodded absently and tucked the bag into my purse. Then I followed him inside while mentally readying myself for the meeting. It was time to lock this shit down. I could wrap my head around the alien who had taken over Jude’s body later. And I might wear the barrettes because…butterflies. But for now…party.

George was ready for us, and even though Jude wanted to pretend the last meeting never happened, I couldn’t do it. I looked George in the eyes and apologized for our immature behavior. “We were really impressed with this space and hope you won’t hold our prior antics against us.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. In fact, I don’t remember any prior antics.” George followed up the statement with a facial expression worthy of an Oscar award for worst performance by someone with no memory of our antics.

Behind his back, Jude mouthed, “Told you so” while rubbing his thumb and index finger together in the “money” gesture.

I bit back a laugh. But seriously…whowasthis guy and where was the real Jude?

George led us into the private room where the party would be held.

My eyes swept over the shiny medium-brown wood floors, bronze ceiling and chandeliers, working fireplace, wine cellarettes, and pops of greenery. “It’s perfect,” I whispered. If rustic and elegance had a baby, it would look like this.

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