He seemed to have accepted that they were limited to friendship. Sometimes he even made her laugh, telling her about his disastrous dates, his quest for the right woman.
Both the men with him, Kyle Avery and Mario Menendez, perfectly fit the public’s idea of what a rugged young firefighter should look like.
“Ashley, you do know how to pick ’em,” Karen told her. “He’s to die for.”
“Which one?”
Karen was silent for a minute. “Actually, all of them. Especially your friend Len. I don’t understand why you don’t scoop him right up.”
“Because it isn’t there.”
“What isn’t there? He sure looks like he’s got everything to me.”
“Go for him, then,” Ashley said.
Karen shook her head. “Too awkward. He’s got the hots for you.”
“He’s a friend, Karen. If you make him happy, you’ll make me happy.”
“C’mon, you two. This is a dance club,” Jan interrupted. “Let’s dance, then we’ll sort out the psychology of it all, hmm?”
After a few hours of swing, changing partners frequently and dancing with others, as well, Karen claimed exhaustion. She, Jan and Ashley made for the ladies’ room while the men ordered drinks.
“Ashley, I’m flirting away with your buddy, making myself very happy and keeping you in the clear, but you’re not showing the least sign of interest in anyone,” Karen stated.
Ashley sighed. “I’m in the middle of the academy and trying to help Nick out now and then. I don’t want to be involved. And it’s getting late. I may opt out of the rest of the evening and head back.”
“It’s not that late. And you don’t have to get involved with anyone. Just have fun, Ashley. I’m a teacher. I spend my life with little kids. I do the ABCs and two plus two, and wash little hands and help blow little noses all day. It’s been almost a year since I had what you’d actually call a real boyfriend—and I don’t miss that creep! But I do miss…company. Okay, and sex. Don’t you ever just want to have sex?”
“Karen, sex is a great thing. But maybe you want to get to know him a little.”
“I don’t know,” Jan teased, checking her lipstick. “Sometimes guys are a lot better before you get to know them.”
“He lives in Miami. She should get to know him,” Ashley said.
“Mother Superior has spoken,” Karen acknowledged. “But let’s not call it quits already, huh? I gave him my phone number. And if he calls me once we’re home…great. Or he may start pining for you all over again.”
“Karen, we’re friends. That’s all.”
“I hope that’s true. I hope he does call. He has a respectable job. He’s nice as hell. He drinks, but not a lot, and he dances swing. Don’t you dare insist we leave right now. And be nice.”
“Be nice? He’s my friend. I’m always nice.”
Karen sighed, her chest heaving with impatience. “I mean, be nice to all of them. Please…Jan may not admit it, but she’s saving all her quality flirting for Kyle, so just be decent to Mario so we can try to keep their threesome together. With us.”
“I told you, I’ll be nice.”
“Ashley, you’re crazy. Have you ever really looked at your friend’s buns?”
“No, Karen, I haven’t actually stared at his butt, but if you say so, I’m sure his buns are great.”
Karen shook her head again. “She’s crazy,” she told Jan.
“No, I understand her perfectly,” Jan said. “It’s either there or not. I can’t really explain what ‘it’ is, chemistry or whatever, but if it isn’t there, it isn’t there. So quit feeling guilty and checking with Ashley to make sure she’s really not romantically interested. She isn’t. And we’re wasting time here, discussing this all in a bathroom.”
“Right, let’s get back there,” Karen said. “And you, Ashley, start talking to Mario. Talk shop if you have to.”
“I’m in the police academy, not fire rescue.”
“It’s almost the same,” Karen insisted.
Ashley discovered that she was actually able to have a nice conversation with Mario, who was somewhat shy and reserved. He was married and was just out with his single friends for the weekend because his wife was in Connecticut for two weeks visiting her folks. He was relieved to tell her about being a newlywed, since his friends had been afraid he was going to ruin a fun night for them.
Ashley told him about the accident they had witnessed, and he told her stories about calls they’d taken on I-95, some tragic, some simply bizarre. When the others rejoined them at the table after dancing, she found herself repeating the story, knowing Len might be interested, since it had occurred in their neck of the woods.
“Ashley, you’re going to see things like that more and more often,” Len said. “Bad things happen on the highways.”
“Hey,” Karen said. “We all decided we were not going to focus on that awful scene.” She stared at Ashley, who hadn’t even realized she had a pen out, or that she was sketching the highway scene on a cocktail napkin.