“I don’t love him, not even a little bit,” she said, and it was true.
The hopeful, innocent thing she’d felt for Cody had died a final death that horrible night when he’d ripped her to pieces and laughed at her pain. She’d given him her battered, bruised heart and he’d kicked it.
Ísa wasn’t stupid enough to hold a torch for a man capable of such casual cruelty.
But marriage and children and a stable home base—not only for herself but for her much younger sister, Catie, and brother, Harlow—that had always been her dream. It was why she was putting herself through the hell of online dating with the precision of a business merger to end all business mergers.
With her students on vacation since the end of the previous week and Ísa having no real obligation to come into school until her night classes began, her diary currently looked like that of a hyperactive serial dater, one who was heavily overcaffeinated at this point.
* * *
Monday morning: Coffee with Manuel. Dark haired, dark eyed. Likes novels and poetry. Fingers crossed!
Postmortem: Did like books and poetry. Also liked the waitress, with whom he made a date while I was sitting in front of him. Then asked me if I was “open to exploring my sexuality without boundaries.”
* * *
Monday afternoon: Coffee with Beau. Five foot nine. Blond. Mechanic. Comes across non-douchey in online conversation.
Postmortem: Non-douchiness was a front.
* * *
Monday night:Coffee with Carl. Sweet guy who likes gaming. That’s okay—if he’s the one, I can read while he games.
Postmortem: His current game was so hot he couldn’t step away from the computer to come meet me. Didn’t message me until I’d been waiting for twenty minutes. Can never go back to that café.
* * *
Tuesday morning: Coffee with Henry. Five foot seven. Brown hair. Lawyer. Seems very practical and sensible and sweet.
Postmortem: Thank God I only ever agree to meet for coffee on the first date. The man spent the entire date on the phone, talking business. If he can’t even commit to a half-hour coffee date, I don’t think he’d be able to commit to a wife and child.
* * *
Tuesday evening: Coffee with Tana. Six foot one. Some kind of finance job. Doesn’t say much online, but some people aren’t good at online conversation. Doesn’t seem like a serial killer.
Postmortem: No chemistry. He gave me his business card in case I want to invest in the future.
* * *
Wednesday morning: Coffee with Wyatt. Thirty-three. Has a name like a cowboy. Wants to work on a farm.
Postmortem: Wyatt forgot to add forty years to his age when setting up his profile. Also forgot to state his photo was from a few decades back. Not ageist but would really like my future husband to have his own teeth.
* * *
Wednesday afternoon: Coffee with Gareith with an i in there. Okay, parents gave him the name so can’t judge him on it. Manager at grocery store. Seems very normal. I am afraid.
Postmortem: He changed his name to Gareith Atlas Bonemaker on his eighteenth birthday and thinks the Great Bonemaker has PLANS for him to LEAD a REVOLUTION.
* * *
Wednesday night: Midweek sanity check with Nayna. Some best friend. Snorted wine out of her nose after hearing of Wyatt + Gareith situation. Then forced me to make more dates.
* * *
Thursday morning: Tea with Ken. No more coffee. Brown hair. Will wear rose in lapel so I recognize him. That’s kind of cute.
Postmortem: Am in shock. He was good-looking, articulate, and polite. Of course we had zero chemistry. Maybe I need to have my hormones checked.
* * *
Thursday afternoon: Tea with Stuart. Rocking a bald look. Sexy. Likes dogs.
Postmortem: Wore dog collar. Wanted me to walk him and call him Woofy. Am sure he will find right woman one day.
* * *
It was only Friday of her first full week of dating, and Ísa was already exhausted. Which was why she hadn’t made any further dates. But she would. Because sitting around and waiting for the right man to come along was a recipe for ending up without the life she’d always wanted.
Marriage by thirty. A child by thirty-two. All of it drenched in love.
That was Ísa’s timeline, and she was sticking to it. She had two years to make the first part of it happen. But while, after a lifetime of learning not to depend on anyone, she was still scrambling to find a man she trusted to stick around, Slimeball Schumer was about to have all those things with the girl who’d tortured Ísa for years.
It just seemed so deeply unfair.
Ísa barely restrained the urge to kick the nearest piece of furniture. Maybe, she thought hopefully, fate would throw her a bone and have it rain on Cody and Suzanne’s wedding day. Complete with hail. And flying toads. And a truck that sprayed mud on the bride’s conceited face.
The vengeful visual kept her company as she closed the door to her classroom. Her phone rang again right then, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. Wanting to bang her head against the wall as she recognized that ominous ringtone, Ísa briefly considered just getting on a plane and flying back to Iceland. She’d been happy there, spoke the language, and neither one of her parents currently used it as their home base.
Perfect. Except that she’d be abandoning Catie and Harlow to the Dragon. And that was the one thing Ísa would never do. Whatever road she took in life, she was bringing her siblings along with her.
The phone kept ringing.
Jacqueline Rain, CEO of Crafty Corners and various other enterprises, didn’t know the meaning of giving up.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Ísa, I wanted to make sure you remembered the board meeting today.”
Ísa did bang her forehead against the wall at that. “I have no reason to attend the board meeting.”
“You’re a thirty percent shareholder.”
Only because you forced the shares on me on my twenty-first birthday. “I’m sure you can represent my interests.”
“I have no time for this, Ísa. Make sure you’re present.” Jacqueline hung up.
Gritting her teeth, Ísa thought fiercely of the meditation technique she’ d learned at the Buddhist retreat Nayna had booked them into last year. Ísa’s best friend hadn’t realized the retreat was being held at a silent monastery until they’d arrived and been shown the rules.
They’d lasted four hours. Enough to learn the basics.
But it turned out you couldn’t mutter angrily under your breath about dragons and swords and still find your Zen.
The worst of it was that Jacqueline wasn’t simply being abrasive and aggravating. No, Ísa’s mother knew exactly what she was doing, knew she had Ísa over a barrel because of Harlow and Catie.
As if the thought had conjured her sister out of thin air, her phone beeped with an incoming message: Aren’t you seeing the Dragon today? Wear your fireproof armor.
Smiling despite herself, she messaged Catie. She didn’t know how her sister did it; despite not living in the same city as Ísa or Jacqueline, she was always up to date with the news and gossip. Part of it was Catie’s close bond with Harlow, but equally important was Catie’s ability to make friends wherever she went—including at Jacqueline’s company.
Message sent, she shoved her phone into her satchel and strode down the hallway; her footfalls echoed in the eerily empty space… and the niggling seed of righteous fury bloomed into full flower once more. Not just because of Jacqueline’s blatant manipulation but at the memory of Cody and Suzanne’s happiness.
The hopeful, innocent thing she’d felt for Cody had died a final death that horrible night when he’d ripped her to pieces and laughed at her pain. She’d given him her battered, bruised heart and he’d kicked it.
Ísa wasn’t stupid enough to hold a torch for a man capable of such casual cruelty.
But marriage and children and a stable home base—not only for herself but for her much younger sister, Catie, and brother, Harlow—that had always been her dream. It was why she was putting herself through the hell of online dating with the precision of a business merger to end all business mergers.
With her students on vacation since the end of the previous week and Ísa having no real obligation to come into school until her night classes began, her diary currently looked like that of a hyperactive serial dater, one who was heavily overcaffeinated at this point.
* * *
Monday morning: Coffee with Manuel. Dark haired, dark eyed. Likes novels and poetry. Fingers crossed!
Postmortem: Did like books and poetry. Also liked the waitress, with whom he made a date while I was sitting in front of him. Then asked me if I was “open to exploring my sexuality without boundaries.”
* * *
Monday afternoon: Coffee with Beau. Five foot nine. Blond. Mechanic. Comes across non-douchey in online conversation.
Postmortem: Non-douchiness was a front.
* * *
Monday night:Coffee with Carl. Sweet guy who likes gaming. That’s okay—if he’s the one, I can read while he games.
Postmortem: His current game was so hot he couldn’t step away from the computer to come meet me. Didn’t message me until I’d been waiting for twenty minutes. Can never go back to that café.
* * *
Tuesday morning: Coffee with Henry. Five foot seven. Brown hair. Lawyer. Seems very practical and sensible and sweet.
Postmortem: Thank God I only ever agree to meet for coffee on the first date. The man spent the entire date on the phone, talking business. If he can’t even commit to a half-hour coffee date, I don’t think he’d be able to commit to a wife and child.
* * *
Tuesday evening: Coffee with Tana. Six foot one. Some kind of finance job. Doesn’t say much online, but some people aren’t good at online conversation. Doesn’t seem like a serial killer.
Postmortem: No chemistry. He gave me his business card in case I want to invest in the future.
* * *
Wednesday morning: Coffee with Wyatt. Thirty-three. Has a name like a cowboy. Wants to work on a farm.
Postmortem: Wyatt forgot to add forty years to his age when setting up his profile. Also forgot to state his photo was from a few decades back. Not ageist but would really like my future husband to have his own teeth.
* * *
Wednesday afternoon: Coffee with Gareith with an i in there. Okay, parents gave him the name so can’t judge him on it. Manager at grocery store. Seems very normal. I am afraid.
Postmortem: He changed his name to Gareith Atlas Bonemaker on his eighteenth birthday and thinks the Great Bonemaker has PLANS for him to LEAD a REVOLUTION.
* * *
Wednesday night: Midweek sanity check with Nayna. Some best friend. Snorted wine out of her nose after hearing of Wyatt + Gareith situation. Then forced me to make more dates.
* * *
Thursday morning: Tea with Ken. No more coffee. Brown hair. Will wear rose in lapel so I recognize him. That’s kind of cute.
Postmortem: Am in shock. He was good-looking, articulate, and polite. Of course we had zero chemistry. Maybe I need to have my hormones checked.
* * *
Thursday afternoon: Tea with Stuart. Rocking a bald look. Sexy. Likes dogs.
Postmortem: Wore dog collar. Wanted me to walk him and call him Woofy. Am sure he will find right woman one day.
* * *
It was only Friday of her first full week of dating, and Ísa was already exhausted. Which was why she hadn’t made any further dates. But she would. Because sitting around and waiting for the right man to come along was a recipe for ending up without the life she’d always wanted.
Marriage by thirty. A child by thirty-two. All of it drenched in love.
That was Ísa’s timeline, and she was sticking to it. She had two years to make the first part of it happen. But while, after a lifetime of learning not to depend on anyone, she was still scrambling to find a man she trusted to stick around, Slimeball Schumer was about to have all those things with the girl who’d tortured Ísa for years.
It just seemed so deeply unfair.
Ísa barely restrained the urge to kick the nearest piece of furniture. Maybe, she thought hopefully, fate would throw her a bone and have it rain on Cody and Suzanne’s wedding day. Complete with hail. And flying toads. And a truck that sprayed mud on the bride’s conceited face.
The vengeful visual kept her company as she closed the door to her classroom. Her phone rang again right then, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. Wanting to bang her head against the wall as she recognized that ominous ringtone, Ísa briefly considered just getting on a plane and flying back to Iceland. She’d been happy there, spoke the language, and neither one of her parents currently used it as their home base.
Perfect. Except that she’d be abandoning Catie and Harlow to the Dragon. And that was the one thing Ísa would never do. Whatever road she took in life, she was bringing her siblings along with her.
The phone kept ringing.
Jacqueline Rain, CEO of Crafty Corners and various other enterprises, didn’t know the meaning of giving up.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Ísa, I wanted to make sure you remembered the board meeting today.”
Ísa did bang her forehead against the wall at that. “I have no reason to attend the board meeting.”
“You’re a thirty percent shareholder.”
Only because you forced the shares on me on my twenty-first birthday. “I’m sure you can represent my interests.”
“I have no time for this, Ísa. Make sure you’re present.” Jacqueline hung up.
Gritting her teeth, Ísa thought fiercely of the meditation technique she’ d learned at the Buddhist retreat Nayna had booked them into last year. Ísa’s best friend hadn’t realized the retreat was being held at a silent monastery until they’d arrived and been shown the rules.
They’d lasted four hours. Enough to learn the basics.
But it turned out you couldn’t mutter angrily under your breath about dragons and swords and still find your Zen.
The worst of it was that Jacqueline wasn’t simply being abrasive and aggravating. No, Ísa’s mother knew exactly what she was doing, knew she had Ísa over a barrel because of Harlow and Catie.
As if the thought had conjured her sister out of thin air, her phone beeped with an incoming message: Aren’t you seeing the Dragon today? Wear your fireproof armor.
Smiling despite herself, she messaged Catie. She didn’t know how her sister did it; despite not living in the same city as Ísa or Jacqueline, she was always up to date with the news and gossip. Part of it was Catie’s close bond with Harlow, but equally important was Catie’s ability to make friends wherever she went—including at Jacqueline’s company.
Message sent, she shoved her phone into her satchel and strode down the hallway; her footfalls echoed in the eerily empty space… and the niggling seed of righteous fury bloomed into full flower once more. Not just because of Jacqueline’s blatant manipulation but at the memory of Cody and Suzanne’s happiness.
