2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Charlotte

"Is there any chance at all of getting even one of you to pay attention?" Twenty-two high school students stare back at me as if I just asked them to donate their left kidney for scientific study. They'd probably enjoy that over statistics any day, but since it's my job to ensure the walking dramatists learn math they probably won't use in most jobs, I need them to look in my general direction when I work out the problem for the tenth time.

Fortunately for them, they are saved by the bell. I try not to glare as they walk out of my class, half of them forgetting to grab their assignment sheets from my desk on the way. I'm not going to remind them. I've done enough thinking for them. It's time for them to figure it out themselves. Erasing my white board gives me a moment to gather my sanity before sitting to grade the pop quiz everyone groaned about.

"Miss Clarke?"

I glance over my shoulder to find Fisher Blake staring at me. He's got a death grip on his textbook, and I have a good feeling I know why.

"What is it, Fisher?"

He runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair and grimaces. "I know I failed that quiz, but I really did study. I pay attention in class, but by the time I get home, I've forgotten everything."

It's not a lie. He might be the only one who tries.

"I'll tell you what. Since you were the only one to approach me with concerns about your work, I want you to take this home and work through the problems with the textbook. Bring it back in the morning." I flip through the quizzes and hand his back along with the assignment. "I'll talk with your parents about our student tutoring program, okay?"

Fisher frowns but accepts my offer. "Thank you, Miss Clarke." I know that look. It's the same one I get from every athlete whose schedule is already booked solid. There's hardly any time for studying, but plenty of time for sports. I get it. They're kids and they need to be outside, exercising, having fun even at their age, but they also need to pass their classes. I make a note to call his parents and set up with a tutor for later this week before setting my sights back on erasing my whiteboard.

A knock on my doorframe distracts me from my monotonous work. "Hey, wanna walk with me to the dungeon to return this archaic piece of junk?" Destiny, my next door teacher, pops her bubble gum and pats the rolling cart holding a television set that is easily older than we are combined. It still works though, which is why the school won't buy new ones.

"Why would anyone willingly go into the dungeon? It smells like rotten French fries and hasn't been dusted in twenty years." I shiver at the thought.

The dungeon is where the school houses all of the equipment teachers don't want to use but have to, and Destiny swears she once heard voices while pillaging the VHS boxes for a decent copy of Romeo and Juliet. When I say our stuff is old, I mean it. It's VHS old. It's big box television old. I'd wager to say it's rotary phone old, but it's the only private Christian school that services this part of the city.

I shiver again. "It's scary down there."

"Which is exactly why I'm begging you to be my knight in a school uniform and escort me. Protect me, Lottie. There's a dragon down there." She whines and brushes her dark curls from her face. When she does, I notice a giant sparkler that most certainly was not there yesterday. When she catches my stare, her smile matches the wattage emanating from the giant diamond ring on her marry me finger.

"What is that and why are you holding out on me?" I plant my fist on my hip and try to mimic anger, but it's not happening for me. Everyone knows I can't be mean, which is why I'll email the assignments to all of the students who failed to pick them up on the way out and give them a second chance on their quiz next week.

"Nathan proposed to me last night!" She holds out her hand to show off her engagement ring.

"Destiny! Congratulations, I'm so happy for you." Happy, yes. Jealous, no. Well, maybe a little, but her new fiancé plays for the Carolina Predators, a minor league soccer team and I am not a fan of athletes. It has nothing to do with my ex-boyfriend of three years ditching me for another woman—his hockey team's social media manager—and leaving me alone and depressed.

"Thank you! We're so excited. I can't believe I finally found the one."

"This is amazing. You're going to make the most beautiful bride. He's a lucky guy, but he obviously knows it. Look at this thing." I take her hand and get a better look at her ring. It's gorgeous. I never thought a diamond set in rose gold would be my style, but I could get behind it for sure.

Some day.

Definitely not now.

This is Destiny's moment, after all, so no pondering what might have been. It's been months since the break up, and I seriously need to just move on already.

"Soo…I need to tell you about something else, too."

Wait, what? Destiny bites her lip and all but shrinks into herself. "Uh…what?" She's not pregnant. I know that much based on her sharing the same convictions as me. And after an engagement announcement, I can't think of what else she might surprise me with. Especially not with an expression like that.

Then it hits me. Duh, she probably wants to tell me all about the proposal. And I am here for it. I gather my things in a hurry and figure I'll grade the quizzes at home over the weekend. I take her bag so she doesn't have to push the cart and carry her things at the same time. "Okay, tell me all about this perfect proposal. I'm all ears. Hit me like one of those sweet romance novels you love so much."

Destiny pushes the heavy television while I sling her bag over my shoulder.

"There isn't much to tell. He took me to dinner and popped the question over desert, but that's not what I wanted to tell you about. It worked, so I feel the need to pass the secret along." Her excitement level is still at a thousand, but she seems completely disinterested in giving me the details. Strange.

My forehead scrunches. "What worked? What are you talking about?"

She takes a deep breath and readies her presentation. She's a speech and debate instructor, so it'll be good….whatever it is. If it's a pitch to get me to be a bridesmaid, there's really no reason. I'm a fool for love—of course, for other people, not me. No, thank you. I'm good with the status quo of being alone.

"Okay, so I met Nathan on a secret dating app that is only passed along by word of mouth. The success rate is out of this world, and since he proposed to me I believe it truly does work. I want to pass it along to you because you deserve a good man after everything you went through with the one whose name we do not speak."

Oh. No.

If I hurry, I can drop her bag and make it to the exit before she can catch me. I'm planning my escape when Destiny pauses and puts her hand on my shoulder. She knows my ways, darn it.

"Des, I'm not interested in dating right now. You know that. Summer break is a few weeks away, and all I want to do is lay by the pool, read good books, and pretend the men in them are my boyfriends."

"What if I told you that there are real men out there better than the book boyfriends?" She arches a perfectly manicured brow, her dark eyes glistening again.

"I'd say you probably snatched up the last one. I'm happy for you, but I'm seriously okay with being alone. I'll die an old maid with ten dogs, thousands of books, and piles of yarn I never learned to knit."

"Oh, stop that. You're the sweetest, sunniest person I know. I am not going to stand by and watch you miss out on love. There's just too much awesome in this little body to keep to yourself." She motions over me as if I have compartmentalized awesomeness and plan to horde it to the end of time. "The app works, Lottie. I would never recommend it if I didn't think you could find a great man who will treasure you like the rare gem you are." She tousles my red hair and grins. "This hair, those emerald eyes, and your adorable freckles are irresistible."

I slant my eyes at her, trying to appear mean and jaded but it only makes her laugh.

"Here, just take the business card and think about it. I won't bug you over it, but I want you to know it's an option that will have great results." She shoves a card in my hand, which means she has prepared for this. I have her bag, so she's had that card burning a hole in her palm since she knocked on my doorframe. To appease her, I take it. "Just, um…don't tell anyone about it, okay?"

"I won't, and I'll think about it." I stuff the plain black card into my tote bag, probably never to be seen again.

This pleases her enough that she switches topics back to her new fiancé and the details of the engagement. She's already picked out a dress and a venue, so I encourage her and smile as much as possible. All the while, I wonder if there is even a sliver of possibility that it was the app that did all of the hard work, or just good, old fashioned luck.

An hour and one terrified jog away from the dungeon later, and I'm finally home ready to get into my pajamas and snuggle with Ginger, my two year old boxer. Her nubber wiggles always make me smile, and she greets me at the door with all of the loyalty only a dog can muster. I ignore the hockey stick leaning in the corner that Rory still hasn't picked up. It's almost like he wants to rub it in a little longer, make the sting last so he can swoop in and break me all over again when he retrieves the last of his things.

We were so close to forever, too. One down payment on a house and ring shopping. That's as far as we got before the news of his betrayal smacked me in my unsuspecting, na?ve face.

Ginger presses her nose to my knee and snorts.

"Hi, Ginger bear," I croon, scratching under her drooly fat chin. She wiggles so hard she folds herself in half and whines. "Okay, let's go potty then we'll snuggle, okay?" I slide open the glass patio door and let her dart into the backyard. This gives me time to change before we settle on the sofa and order Chinese food. It's Friday, and this is the regular routine.

In my bedroom, the full length mirror reflects the late afternoon sunlight, casting a warm glow over my pale pink bedspread. The calming, welcoming colors beckon me to curl up and take a nap, but it's too early to consider going to bed. The cozy linen sheets will have to wait. In the meantime, I can lounge in my jammies.

I let Ginger back in and feed her. She barely makes it around the sofa without wiping out, then growls while she eats. It's been her habit since I got her at four months old, despite copious proof that I would never steal her food. Scrolling through the streaming apps, I stop on the romcom movie channel. I adore the idea of love but I tried it a few times, got my heart stomped, and gave up. I'm only thirty, but all of my friends were married and pregnant by twenty-five. It seems I will be the eternal bachelorette of the group, but at least this way I don't end up crying into a bag of chips and salsa, wishing I had paid more attention to the signs.

Oh, chips and salsa. Maybe Chinese food can wait. I'm about to head to the kitchen to raid the pantry instead when my phone lights up and one of my best friend's, Josie's name pops up. I slide the screen to answer, prepared for the absolute worst. She's going to try to make me leave the house, and I don't want to.

"Hello?"

"Lottie! Get out of your jammies, fix your face and hair, and meet us at—"

"How do you know I'm in my jammies?" I ask, glancing down at them.

"You're always in them. That doesn't matter. I got us into Uptown Bistro, that amazing little restaurant in the historic district."

And there it is, the absolute worst. Josie has been calling every day to catch a cancellation at the popular bistro, but I held out hope she would never get one. My luck has run out. "Josie—"

"No. You don't get to punk out on me. You promised if I got us in, you'd come, Lottie. Come on, join us." Josie's excitement does not cross over the phone and infuse me with the same level of joy, but she's my best friend. I can't tell her no. Besides, it's time to stop nursing the wounds my ex inflicted and get back to the sweet and sunny girl everyone adores. If I'm honest, I miss being the one that made everyone smile and feel good about themselves.

"Okay, okay. Gimme fifteen minutes to spruce up and I'll meet you there."

"Perfect. Love you, Lots."

If she loved me, she would let me stay in my huddle hole. I kick off the blanket and scold myself because Josie dragging me out on a Friday night for a dinner with the girls is just what I need to get back to being me. She knows it. And…I do want to get back to being myself.

I look over at Ginger whose precious brown eyes knowingly look back at me. She wiggles out from under the blanket pile and grabs a toy from her basket, happy to chew the night away without me.

It takes me the entire fifteen minutes to find something suitable to wear to such a high-end bistro, then another ten to fix my makeup and hair, but once I arrive and park, I find the ladies standing outside in a line. Josie's arms are crossed, and Carmen and Amelia wear scowls that could scare the pants off of anyone.

"What's wrong?" I ask and slow my approach in case Amelia decides to tell me with her hands. I once took a finger to the eye when she was ranting about her nephew smearing red paint on her new car.

"Well, we have to make different plans," Josie says. Her cheeks are bright red even in the dim light from the street lamps.

"I thought you got us in on a cancellation?" I ask, forcing a smile when the girls all give me annoyed side eye. They're annoyed? I wore heels.

"It's for next year," Amelia says, shifting her glare to Josie.

"They did not tell me that over the phone," Josie says. "We tried calling you, but you didn't answer. Since we're all out, we might as well go somewhere."

"Pizza. We're getting pizza, because my tongue was ready for high end treatment, and anything less than that will only anger me," Carmen says.

"Pizza is less than that," Josie says but backs away when Carmen gives her a warning glance.

"I mean, trying another restaurant will be a disappointment. We know pizza. Pizza is our friend," Carmen says.

"All right, ladies. There's no need for hostility. Let's cross the street and go to Delmonico's. It's cheap and delicious." I link my arm with Carmen's to ensure she doesn't shove Josie in front of traffic while Amelia trails along beside us. Josie brings up the rear, apologizing.

"I really am sorry. They were not clear about the year wait. Who books out that far anyway? What if something happened? What if the building burned down, then what?"

"Morbid much?" Ameila asks. "It's fine. We'll have pizza and spaghetti with massive meatballs."

"Now you're singing my song," I say, pleased to have comfort food instead of overpriced, undersized mushrooms stuffed with things I can't even pronounce.

Inside of Delmonico's, Rafael seats us and hands out menus. "It's been a long time since we've seen all four of you together. How are things?" he asks. Rafael is the owner's son who flirts with us every time we come in, but his inability to secure a date is thanks to the fact that he flirts with all but the single woman in the group.

"Things have been crazy busy at work," Amelia says and slides into the booth. "How are things here?"

"Uh, good. Good. A little pick up in business with the summer. What can I get you all to drink?"

We place our drink and food orders because we always get the same things, then settle in to wait and dish the details of our lives.

"Is it bad that I'm worried about Nick home alone with the kids?" Josie asks, checking her phone. Her blonde hair waves around her face and stops abruptly at her chin. Only she could pull off a wavy, short cut like that. The rest of us would look like giant mushroom heads. Her blue eyes fill with worry for her husband and kids.

"He's the most responsible person I've ever met. I'm sure he's doing just fine," I say, encouraging her.

Carmen checks her phone for good measure, but if her husband can't manage their one child, we have bigger issues than Josie reserving a bistro for a year out. On the plus side, at least I have a year to prepare. The introvert in me throws a party.

"Alex took the kids to his parents' house for the night. My guess is that he doesn't feel like cooking," Amelia says with a knowing laugh. Her husband is kind and generous, but he can also burn water. Amelia glances toward the bar where Rafael fills our drinks, her auburn hair slipping over her shoulder. "You should ask him out, Lottie. I'm positive he will say yes, and bonus, he's not an athlete. He's an entrepreneur who makes amazing food."

"Um, no. He's not my type for sure. He's a nice guy, but a bit young for me."

She shrugs, turning her brown eyes back to me. "Eight years. I guess that is a lot when you're thirty and he's twenty-two."

"Gee, make me feel older by doing the math, why don't you?" I toss a straw at her but it doesn't get far.

Rafael, who, incidentally, is quite a hunky Italian, delivers our drinks, giving me a chance to pull my lip balm from my purse. Savannah summers are harsh on my pale skin, and my lips suffer. Along with my lip balm, the business card Destiny gave me falls onto the table. Carmen snatches the black card before I have a chance to hide it.

"What is this? A dating app?" She raises her eyebrows, her brown eyes locked on mine. She's a lie detector, so there's no reason to bother trying to hide it or make up a story. Not that I'd want to lie to her anyway, but at the moment, it seems better than admitting that a friend from work thinks I should go on a weird dating app to meet a man just because it worked for her.

"It's something Destiny from work gave me. I'm not going to use it. I just didn't have a chance to throw it out yet." I brush it off while the ladies pass the card around like a trophy, inspecting it.

"It only lists a website and has an access number. That's odd," Amelia says. "Aren't you even a little curious?"

"Nope. Not a bit. Actually, I'm not even supposed to talk about it, so if you could forget about it, that would be great. Now, can we get back to—"

"Oh, come on. Obviously, we're not the only ones who think it's time you moved on from your piece of trash ex." Carmen hands me the card with a pointed stare before brushing her black hair over her shoulder. "You should at least look into it."

"That's a big fat no," I say and snatch the card back. I toss it across the table so Rafael can take it to the trash where it belongs. "I'm not putting my dating life in the hands of complete strangers, okay?"

A round of eye rolls seems to end the conversation. Rafael brings our food and we fall into pleasant conversation about work life and family before paying our checks. As usual, the owner brings us free desert to go. The tiramisu won't stand a chance once I get home.

"We need to get together more often. Can we shoot for once a month?" Josie asks. It's easy enough for two of us to get together at a time, but for all four of us to synch our schedules is almost impossible.

"Summer break is coming, so I'll have more free time," I say, holding out hope that this time our promise to spend more time together rings true. But with kids in the picture, it isn't likely to. I completely understand my friends' need to be a parent first, but sometimes jealousy picks at me. I'd love to have a doting husband and a few kids like them, but it's getting there that's the problem.

Rory was supposed to be my one. He was the guy I was sure I would spend forever with, but he betrayed me. He walked away from three good years for a woman he hardly knew. It couldn't have been that good if he could walk away so easily, but for me, they had been perfect. Clearly, I missed the signs. I was oblivious, and that kind of pain isn't easily repaired, I don't care how many months have passed.

We make rough plans to meet again in a few weeks and I head home to finally snuggle with Ginger, tiramisu in hand.

Once there, I flop on the sofa and open the take-out container just as my phone dings again. I glance down, assuming it's one of the girls, but it's an email alert. From a dating website. I tap on it and, sure enough, it's the one from the card Destiny gave me.

"What the…I'm going to kill them." I immediately call Carmen, the one most likely to commit such devious acts of tomfoolery.

"I had to do it," she says instead of hello. "I love you, and I'm sick of seeing people break your heart. I looked over everything and they have an insanely high success rate with zero divorces. There's a ton of security too. It's legit, Lottie. All I'm asking is that you look it over and try it out, please?"

I groan into the phone and try to be patient. "Carmen, I said I didn't want to do this."

"I know but we thought—"

"We? All three of you are in on this?"

"In fairness, Amelia was against it but we outnumbered her." Carmen is on a mission, and there is very little chance I escape this without disappointing her. "I'm sorry we did it behind your back, but we knew you'd never do it on your own. There is an amazing man out there for you, and we just want to help you find him."

They mean well. That's what I tell myself when I close my eyes and try to chase away my frustration. When I told them about Rory, they cried with me. They threatened to break all of his hockey sticks and key his car. They've been in the trenches right beside me. And they're probably right. "All right. I doubt there will be any matches, but I'll look at it."

"That's all we're asking. Love you, Lots."

"Yeah, that's what you all keep saying," I tease. "Night, Carmen."

"Night babe and good luck."

Luck. Yeah, I'm going to need that for sure. I hang up and download the app, convinced there is nothing on it that I'm interested in.