Something Great
Page 1

 M. Clarke

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Chapter 1
“You’re staring,” I said to Becky, who was sitting across from me.
“I can’t help it.” Becky continued to smile at a stranger, flirtatiously batting her eyelashes, pulling a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. “He’s kind of cute, and he’s looking right at me.”
Oh…she is good. “But you think a lot of guys are cute,” I mumbled lightly.
“It’s probably the alcohol talking.” She took a drink of her martini.
Becky and I had been roommates since my senior year in college. Our living arrangement transferred after graduation, which was pretty cool considering the expenses that went with living in an apartment near the beach. I had to say, it was an added benefit having your best friend live with you…sometimes.
Though Becky and I lived together, at times it was difficult when our schedules got busy. Sometimes we hardly saw each other, so it was nice to go out to dinner together even though it was in the middle of the week. We were both tired, but our friendship meant more than a little rest.
Becky looked behind her, then turned back to face me. “Twelve o’clock on your time. You see him?”
Trying not to make it obvious, especially since he’d caught my eyes after Becky turned around, I took a quick peek again. “He’s okay.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“You have such high standards. It’s no wonder…wait a minute. I don’t get you. Not to be mean about it, but you know you can do so much better than what’s his face.”
“You’ve told me that like, millions of times.”
“Oh…is that all? And I still can’t get it through your thick skull,” she giggled.
“He’s not that bad,” I pouted, circling the rim of the glass with my index finger.
Becky’s eyes moved again, starting from the back of the room, and stopped right behind me. “Oh my…talk about eye candy. Now…you can’t say he isn’t good-looking, because he just bumped the others out of the ocean. I think I need to cool off. Perhaps he should cool me off.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, thinking, here she goes again.
“Look behind you,” she ordered, taking another sip of her martini.
“No.”
“Why not? Afraid you may like what you see?”
“Becky, it doesn’t matter if he’s cute or whatever. I’m not a cheater. I’m not here to look for men. I’m here to be with you, to keep you company, to help you find someone. Just because you’re not happy, don’t think I’m not.”
Then I saw the look in her eyes, the look that said I’d gone too far. My mom used to say, “Think before you speak, because words can really hurt, and you can’t take back what you said, because the damage is already done.” I didn’t mean to hurt her. In fact, it had just slipped out from annoyance. Since the day I started seeing Luke, she’d told me nonstop how much he didn’t deserve me.
Sure, I understood. She cared for me like a sister, but enough was enough. I was an adult. I was allowed to, and could, make my own decisions. Even my parents didn’t tell me who or who not to date. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It’s not what I meant.”
“If you’re sorry, then look behind you.”
“What?”
Becky crossed her arms. “I won’t ever ask you to look after this.”
With a heavy sigh, I turned. With perfect timing his eyes caught mine, and they stayed locked for what seemed like an eternity. As if he had somehow spellbound me, I couldn’t move. My heart skipped a beat and I couldn’t breathe. Look away, I told myself, but I couldn’t. I would have sworn I felt my heart lurch and fall into my stomach. Heat like I’d never known before flushed my face. Dangerous tingles awakened every part of me. I couldn’t understand this strange hold he had on me, and I didn’t know if I liked the feeling at all.
He was gorgeous, about six feet tall with broad shoulders, wearing dark slacks; I couldn’t tell what specific color, but who cared? His pin-striped dress shirt was unbuttoned at the sleeves and rolled neatly about a quarter of the way up his arms. Leaning back against the bar in a cool, relaxed manner, he was eye candy all right. Most likely, he was there to wind down after work.
I finally managed to turn back around and look at my friend, who gave me an “I told you so” look.
“Breeeeathe,” she mouthed, curling her lips as far as she could, a huge smile on her face.
“He’s cute. I’ll admit it. So what?”
“Cute? You used the wrong word. He’s hot.”
Becky was right, but I didn’t want to make it obvious that she was. Taking deep breaths, I turned my attention elsewhere, but my heart continued to beat a mile a minute. Why did he have that affect on me? I had never felt that way before. It was exhilarating and dangerous at the same time.
Peering up at my friend after I felt the heat on my face cool down, I wanted to take a gulp of her drink, but I knew I couldn’t—I was allergic to alcohol—so I took a sip of my soda instead. When I did drink, which was rare, I would have a strong urge to urinate, and my whole body, literally from head to toe, would turn red, like I had a bad sunburn. Not to mention it would only take me a few sips to get tipsy. Yup…the alcohol affected me in more ways than one.
“Want me to invite him over here?” Becky offered.
“No,” I said quickly. “We don’t know him.”