Page 2 of Love Is an Art
He walks away and joins another group of black-clad artistic types.
So frickin’ frustrating.
I wander around, studying the art. Bunches of people cluster here and there around the sculptures.
It would appear suspicious if I approached Scammer Guy dressed like this.
Miranda and William are so cute together. She’s laughing. William looks at her like he adores her and can’t believe he’s lucky enough to be with her. That’s relationship goals right there.
It’s crowded now. I eat the last of my cheese and crackers and throw away the plate in a silver garbage can by the refreshments table. Miranda and William are talking to a columnist who gave her last art show a glowing review. I check out the other people in the room.
A blond guy, tall, lean, and lanky, stands near this metal sculpture in the middle of the room, grinning and chatting with two other guys. He’s gorgeous. That tousled hair. Defined cheekbones. Strong jaw. Fit. A fitted, white, button-down shirt slightly open at the collar. He throws his head back, laughing at whatever his friend said. I feel a tug in my chest.And with a zest for life.He leans in to listen to his friend, who looks like he could star in a Korean drama. Also incredibly good-looking. But his friend keeps checking his phone and smiling, like he’s having a secret conversation with someone special—like a girlfriend.
My phone beeps.
Miranda:Scammer Guy left. We can hang out again.
Miranda joins me. “William is getting me some fruit.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work,” I say.
Miranda whistles through her teeth. “It happens. It still gave us some intelligence. I thought for sure he would approach you, but he didn’t. We’ll have to try a different tactic at the next art opening.” She glances around. “There are a lot of good-looking guys here. Maybe we should focus on that instead. Are you sure there are no prospects here?”
“I can’t date now,” I say. “It will be the Wyatt scenario all over again, where I get dumped because I’m working all the time. I need to focus on work and earning the summer bonus.”
“We just have to find someone else who works all the time. Then he can’t complain about your hours.” Miranda scans the room. “Surely there must be someone here you find attractive. You can at least start up a conversation and decide if it’s worth pursuing.”
“That’s true.” I look again for the blond guy and find him almost immediately by the bar. We’re about ten feet away in the middle of the room by a sculpture of a metal spider; a car tire is the body, and the legs are made out of soup cans stuck together.
“That guy.” I tip my head toward him.
“I’ve been watching him,” Miranda says. “I thought he was your type. But he blew off two different women. I think he wants to hang out with his friends. Or maybe he has a girlfriend.”
I feel a pang. He probably has a girlfriend. Lucky woman. But if he doesn’t …
We watch as another woman—this one wearing a stylish skirt suit with lawyer vibes—approaches him, smiling flirtatiously. A brief conversation ensues. He smiles but, gesturing to his friends, tips his head down as if saying no. She retreats, rebuffed. She pouts as she rejoins her friends.
“You never go for the easy one, do you?” Miranda asks.
“No,” I say. “Unfortunately.”
His dark-haired friend pats him on the back. He shakes his head, his hair falling forward over his forehead. I want to smooth it back.
He also appears to be close to these friends, so that’s a good sign.
“But I do like a challenge,” I say. “It might be time forThe Lady Eveapproach. At least that way, he can take the initiative to pick me up if he wants, and he doesn’t have to reject me outright.”
“What’sTheLady Eveapproach?” William asks as he rejoins us, handing Miranda a plate of strawberries, grapes, and cantaloupe chunks.
“It’s a 1940s film,” I say. “All these women are unsuccessfully hitting on this millionaire at a restaurant. And Eve, played by Barbara Stanwyck, is giving her dad a play-by-play of their failed approaches. Both she and her father are con artists. Then when the millionaire leaves, she trips him and then berates him for breaking her shoe. She insists he accompany her to her cabin for a replacement. So, she successfully picks him up.”
“You’re going to trip that guy?” William asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “But he’s going to think he picked me up.” I roll my shoulders and stretch, playing it up. “But I need your help. All you have to do is cut in front of me at the bar and order a drink. But do it aggressively. And then leave.”
“It’s amazing that it works.” Miranda shakes her head in disbelief.
It doesn’talwayswork. The guy has to be a nice guy, somewhat observant, and not totally engrossed with his friends.And someone who cares about fairness.
