How to Change a Life

“Was it the breakup that brought you back here?”

“Sort of. My ex was very committed to staying in L.A., but I had an offer from my current group in their San Francisco office that was really appealing, especially since I have a lot of friends in the Bay Area and some family. And they said that if I joined the group in San Fran, I would have first dibs on any job that opened in Chicago, which I knew was ultimately what I wanted, a chance to really come home. The vibe in Northern California was much more my personality. When I said I wanted to seriously consider the job and the move, that was the end of the marriage.”

Poor guy.

“I’m so sorry. That must have been really hard.”

He shrugs. “We’d been growing apart for a while. Probably got married too fast to begin with, and probably for the wrong reasons. One of those good-on-paper situations, looking back at it. The job offer just crystalized things for both of us.”

“I get it. My last relationship ended because my dad got sick and I had to come home from working abroad to help take care of him and my guy couldn’t come here, and said he just wasn’t up for waiting for me.”

“For what it’s worth, I think your guy was an idiot.”

“For what it’s worth, I think your guy was too.”

“What guy?” Shawn looks puzzled.

“Your ex.”

Shawn barks out a laugh. “Damn, woman, so much for my game. Here I am giving you all my best charms, and you are sitting here thinking I’m gay?” He pauses. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that . . .” And he winks.

I can feel all the color drain out of my face. “But . . . you . . . you just . . . I mean . . . Lawrence . . . and you’re . . . so . . . I mean . . . you smell good . . .” I’m sputtering like a complete fool.

He laughs again. “Well, thank you for that. My mama is a very big ‘cleanliness next to godliness’ woman, so I’m glad I’m not some big stinky fool up in here.”

I can feel the blush burning my cheeks, and I stare into my lap.

Shawn takes one finger and raises my chin to meet his gaze. “Let me start over, pretty lady. My name is Shawn Sudberry-Long. I am a good man who loves his mother. I am a doctor, and I have had a tremendously fantastic time getting to know you a bit tonight, and would very much like to take you on a date and continue to get to know you, if that is something you think you might be up for.”

I nod and manage to choke out, “Yep. Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay, then. Now, would you still allow me to escort you home, or at least escort you into a cab if that makes you more comfortable?”

I want to crawl into a hole. Ten minutes ago I had a new gay best friend. Now I have some ridiculously good-looking man who likes me. I have no idea what to do with that. Ten minutes ago, on Marcy’s direction, I would not have thought twice about letting him take me home, but now, I’m just too mortified.

“A cab, a cab would be really totally fine, you know. I mean, you live downtown, and I’m all the way up north . . .” Now I sound like I’m making excuses to not have him take me home because, what, I’m afraid?

But he nods sympathetically. “I get it, no problem. Shall we get you organized?”

I nod my head yes, and we stand up. He places a firm hand in the small of my back, which now sends some very specific tingles to some parts of me that tend not to get many tingly times, and we wind our way through the crowd to Lawrence.

“Darlings, you found each other. I hoped you would!” He kisses my cheek and shakes Shawn’s hand. “Thank you both for coming, and enjoy the rest of your evening, whatever that brings.” He winks lasciviously.

I can feel the blush coming back. “I’ll see you Tuesday, Lawrence. Thanks as always.”

“Great party, Lawrence. Really appreciate the invite.”

Shawn and I head out and downstairs and into the brisk night air. He pulls out his phone. “Address, milady?”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I mean, I can Uber . . .” I’m fumbling in my purse for my own phone. Shawn places his large warm hand over mine.

“Allow me.”

So I do. I give him my address and he plugs it into the app.

“Look, Eloise, I didn’t mean to shock you, and if you don’t want to go out with me . . .”

“No!” I say much more vehemently than I mean to. “I mean, yes, I was surprised. I just assumed based on context that you were gay, but I’m really—I mean, I really had a good time tonight, and you are a very nice guy and I’m just—I mean, I really would very much like to go out with you.” I’m not quite getting my sea legs back under me, but at least I’m not a complete drooling idiot.

“That makes me very happy. By chance would you be free this coming Friday night?”

I think ahead. The Farbers are going out of town, so I have the whole weekend off, except for brunch with Glenn on Sunday. “Yes, yes, I am.”

“Wonderful. I’ll pick you up, let’s say, seven?”

“Sure. That would be lovely.”

“Is it okay if I call you, between now and then?”

“Of course. That would be nice.”

A black Lincoln SUV pulls up. Shawn goes to open the door for me. “I’m going to text you when you pull away, so that you have my cell number in your phone. Would you mind texting me back when you get home so that I know you are safe?”

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

“Well, then, I’ll talk to you soon, and I’ll look forward to Friday night. Good night, Eloise.”

“Good night, Shawn.”

And then he leans forward and kisses me very gently on the lips, closed mouth, firm and with definite purpose, but not aggressive. It makes my breath catch. He closes the door for me and taps the side of the car to let the driver know that it is okay for him to pull away.

My head is reeling. Nothing like this has ever really happened to me. It was never the really handsome guy who singled me out for attention at parties. I was sort of always the girl the nice average guys might end up with after the hot girls shot them down.

My phone pings.

Get home safe, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow.

This makes me smile with my whole face.

And when I walk into my house, after giving Simca a good head rub, I text him back.

Home safe and sound with my attack corgi. Thanks for a really lovely evening. I’ll look forward to talking to you soon. I think for a second and then add, P.S. In the interest of full disclosure, it is important that I tell you . . . I’m not really a blonde.

I see three little dots blinking right away.

Thank you for letting me know. In the same spirit, I should tell you that I’m actually a five-foot-two Vietnamese goatherd. I have a really great costume guy.

This makes me laugh. I reply, I love goat cheese, so that should work out fine.

Three dots again. Glad to hear it. Talk to you tomorrow. Sleep well, Eloise.

? ? ?

I swoop down and pick up Simca, cuddling her in my arms. I might not dance in public, but what no one knows? I’m a serious secret-solo-dance-party girl. I waltz my confused dog around the living room laughing, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, I’m more ready for this whole dating thing than I thought.





Eight

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