“I just can’t understand it, Ellie,” Sadie says. “You have such a pretty face. The boys should be banging down your door!” She examines me critically. “It must be your hips.”
“My hips?”
Sadie nods. “They’re too skinny. You don’t have birthing hips. It makes men think you won’t be able to have many children.”
I am almost positive that is not the reason I don’t get many dates. But she’s right that I could afford to put on a few pounds—I always assumed when I hit thirty, I’d get a more curvaceous bod, but somehow I’m still all bony. I always wear belts because my butt and my hips aren’t substantial enough to hold up my pants.
“You need to eat more,” Sadie decides. She holds up a finger. “One minute!”
She dashes back into her apartment, and I’m sorely tempted to disappear inside mine, even though I realize that would be rude. When she returns a minute later, she’s holding a huge Tupperware bowl filled with…
“Pot roast!” Sadie declares, thrusting it into my arms. “You eat this, Ellie dear. And you’ll have all the beaus you can handle.”
I stumble into my apartment with my tub of pot roast. I’m not going to eat this. It looks like it’ll sit like a rock in my stomach, and anyway, I grabbed a burrito that I ate during the T ride home.
I try to veg out in front of the television, but my mind can’t stop whirling. Seeing someone from your past always does it. Luke may be a different person and I might look different, but inside, I’m still the same girl I was when I was eighteen. I’m still a huge nerd. I still get nervous when I have to meet new people. I still prefer staying home to going out and socializing.
Sadie isn’t the only one around who wonders why I’m still single. I wonder, too. I’ve had a few boyfriends over the years, but I’ve been alone for a greater percentage of the time than I’ve been in any kind of relationship. I don’t date much either. The biggest reason for that is, in my experience, men don’t want to date smart women.
It’s a sad truth. Even men who claim they want to date a smart woman don’t really want that. I’d do much better getting dates if I were a flight attendant instead of a computer programmer. And even though I lost the glasses, I know I still give off that nerdy girl vibe. I can’t turn it off, much as I’ve tried.
The other problem, of course, is I get bored easily in relationships. Much as I hated Luke for arguing with me every day in expos class, I’ve never been as thoroughly intellectually stimulated in a relationship as I was in that class. It was both aggravating and thrilling. And once I get intellectually bored with a guy, everything gets boring. Even the sex.
Flannery O’Connor was right—a good man really is hard to find.
Of course, it would be great if I could show off some big diamond ring to Luke, but at least I can look reasonably good for our lunch tomorrow. I have one really stunning suit in my closet that I got from Chanel. It fits like a glove and brings out curves I don’t really have. I bought it at the mall six months ago and wanted to wear it for the perfect occasion, but nothing was ever good enough.
Of course, the question is, why do I care so much about looking good for Luke?
Chapter 5
From Reddit:
Subject: Can I sue?
My company was just bought by Thayer Industries, THE MOST EVIL COMPANY in all of Boston. I was seven months pregnant at the time, and they let me go. Two weeks of severance pay. I was supposed to have a paid maternity leave, but obviously that was off the table. I tried to see the CEO, Lucas Thayer, to plead my case, but he wouldn’t even give me an appointment. As a result of all the stress, I went into early labor. My son has had complications as a result.
Can I sue him? Because believe me, that asshole deserves it.
In addition to my Chanel suit, I wear a lot more makeup the next day. A lot more. Even as I was applying the eyeliner and blinking away the little black specks that got into my eye, I didn’t know why I was making such an effort. I guess there’s a part of me that will always sort of want to impress Luke.
Jenna immediately notices the difference when I walk into the office. “Why are you wearing so much makeup?” she asks.
“Um,” I say. “I’m sort of… I’m meeting Luke Thayer for lunch today.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh!”
“It’s not…” I feel my face turning red. “It’s a business lunch. I’m going to explain our project to him and why it’s worthwhile.”
“Oh,” Jenna says, although she doesn’t seem like she believes me. “Well, in that case, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but…”
“What?”
“I think you need to wipe off some of your eye makeup.”
My hand flies to my face. “Too much?”
She nods soberly. “You kind of look like a hooker.”
Well, great.
Jenna accompanies me to the bathroom to fix my makeup. She’s fantastic at doing makeup… If this computer programming thing doesn’t work out for her, she could easily be a cosmetologist. She gives my eyes a certain smokiness that ups my sexy factor by at least two or three.
“There!” she declares. “You look super sexy!”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not trying to look sexy. This is a business lunch. Purely business.”
“Sure it is.” Jenna grins at the look on my face. “Hey, I don’t blame you. I’m sure the rumors about him being a total asshole are exaggerated. And either way, he’s really hot in the pictures.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” I mumble.
“You would kind of have to notice if you’re not dead. You’re not dead, are you, Ellie?”
I avert my eyes. I wonder what Jenna would say if I told her Luke was in a wheelchair. I don’t want to be the one to tell her—it doesn’t feel like my place. I’m not sure why though. It’s not like it’s a secret.
Luke told me to come to his office at noon, so I arrive at 11:55, hoping he’ll appreciate how punctual I am. I can’t help but notice his assistant Michelle is freaking gorgeous. She’s got that tall and slim but curvy physique, like all the Barbie dolls I used to see Luke dating in college. She also can’t be any older than twenty-five.
I wonder if Luke is sleeping with her. I watch the way they interact together when she brings me into his office, trying to figure out if there’s anything flirtatious between them. But Luke has that stone-faced mask on at all times. No flirting, that’s for sure.
Yet another thing that’s changed about Luke. He used to flirt like breathing. No one was immune.
Not even me.
“Here I am!” I declare. My voice tremors slightly. “Right on time.”
“Yes.” Luke has his eyes on his computer screen and barely looks at me. Which I suppose is fair. Yes, I was on time. Do I want a medal? “All right. Let’s get going.”
When we head down in the elevator, I assume there will be some sort of limousine or car service picking us up at the entrance. So it’s a surprise when we go all the way down to the basement.