Page 52 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
Packing some bacon to go, she gathered up her things. But when she slipped her equipment bag over her shoulder, she noticed that it was too light.
Closing her eyes, and praying she was wrong, Piper opened the bag to find her camera, her 1972 Leica, was gone. And so was Rebecca.
15
??
“You’re here!”Darcy said, sounding so excited Piper looked behind her to see who she was talking to. The only people behind Piper were a group of fraternity guys sharing a pitcher of beer, eyes glued to the screen.
It was game night, and Piper was at Stout. The place was wall to wall Seahawks fans, the bar standing room only, and if there was any doubt as to which team was the crowd favorite, the banner above the bar read:If you don’t like the Seahawks, then you’re in the wrong place . . . so get out before you get punched in the face.
Piper hadn’t seen or heard from Rebecca since yesterday. In passing, she’d asked Skye, who hadn’t seen her either. Piper wasn’t mad at Rebecca. Disappointed? Maybe. Heartbroken that her camera, which had, at one time, meant everything to Piper, was gone? Absolutely.
She didn’t tell Skye what had happened, and she sure as heck didn’t call the cops, but she did drive around for two hours after her last client looking for Rebecca. With no luck.
“How did you know I was coming?”
Darcy looked at her as if she’d sprouted a wedding veil out the top of her head. “Girls’ night?” Darcy studied her. “Wait, why are you here?”
Wasn’t that the question of the hour?
“Right! Girls’ night,” she said with an overly bright smile, wondering what was going to happen when Josh showed up talking date night. She hadn’t meant to double book, she just wasn’t used to being this social, which sounded pathetic. In reality, she wasn’t pathetic, she’d just never nailed down the art of being social. It fell under the peopling umbrella—both of which gave her hives.
Piper glanced from one giant flat-screen to the next, all set to ESPN and all showing highlights of the game. “I’m late.”Really late.Like bottom of the fourth quarter late.”
Piper didn’t know all that much about football, but she knew she’d missed enough of her date that she wouldn’t blame Josh if he’d given up.
“Unless a team is cheering on the field under a confetti cannon, you can’t be late,” Jillian said. She was dressed in black, strappy sandals, a cute khaki skirt, and a Seahawks-green,M. I. L. F, Man I love footballtee. She was that sweet, girl-next-door kind of beautiful that Piper couldn’t manage on her best of days.
“My job ran over and I had something I had to do, so I did a quick change and rushed over.” Yes, the family part of the family portrait didn’t play nice, but the truth was she didn’t feel right about going out when Rebecca might show up.
When, after an hour passed and Rebecca was a no-show, Piper left a note on the door saying she’d be home after ten and the key was under the mat.
“You look, um, wow,” Jillian said.
“I don’t know about ‘Wow’. You’re just thrown because I’m not in my usual black on black gear.”
Knowing how much Josh liked an exposed tank strap, she had on a rock tee that fell off one shoulder, a spaghetti strap tank, denim skirt, and her thigh-high boots. They were heather gray suede, with a dark gray silk ribbon that ran up the back and bowed at the top. A little girlie for her usual taste, and it was date five standard issues footwear. But the boots were sexy and feminine with a touch of bad-ass—and she needed a little bad-ass in her step tonight.
The moment she walked in the bar, she knew she didn’t fit in. That she didn’t look like the other women there, a mixed crowd that fell somewhere betweenCosmoandBetter Homes and Garden, with a few boardroom babes thrown in. In fact, it was becoming clearer by the second that Piper was unlike anyone else in Josh’s life. Even dressed up, she had an edge that was extremely polarizing. A single glance, and people either liked her or they didn’t.
Piper was an introvert who didn’t like large crowds and had yet to learn how to people. Peopling didn’t come naturally. It was a skill she’d worked incredibly hard to fake. Successful peopling required being open and vulnerable, finding ways to connect on a level that stemmed from shared experiences.
Piper’s experiences were unique. Growing up, she didn’t watch American Idol with her family or go to prom. She didn’t even graduate high school like everyone else, earning her GED when she’d been nineteen.
So connecting was hard. It often turned into a one-sided conversation where Piper nodded and saidUh huhas if she too had vacationed to Disneyland for a milestone birthday. On the bright side, she had mad listening skills.
“Oh no, you’re a definite, ‘Wow’,” Darcy agreed and, when Piper went to argue, waved over Owen.
“What can I get you?” Owen faded off, his brows disappearing into his hairline. “Wow.”
“See, told you.” Jillian beamed.
Owen didn’t exactly give her a once over, he’d been raised too well for that, but he did lock gazes in a way that made her nervous. The awkward, palms-sweating, not-sure-where-to-put-her-hands nervous. The kind that reminded her why she didn’t like bars—or large crowds—or flirting.
“I’ve got it now, Picture Girl” he said, his expression dialed to lightbulb moment. “A whiskey sour?”
Jillian snorted. “Does anything about her say sour? My grandma drank whiskey sours.”
