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“Okay, I’ll tell you something embarrassing, and then you won’t mind telling me your thing. Let me see... There are so many things to choose from...”
Emily chuckled. “No, you don’t have to—”
“I know a good one. And it’s about a guy, too. There was this really cute guy in my Geology class named Jake, and I was dying for him to ask me out. Then one day I got a text that said, Hey this is Jake. Do you want to catch a movie on Friday? So of course I text back Yes. And the next day I went up to him in class and asked him about it. And he was all confused and asked what I was talking about. It turns out the message was from a different Jake. It was sooooo awkward!” Grace laughed out loud.
“That really happened? That’s awful. How can you laugh about it?”
“Stuff like that happens to me all the time. I’m an awkward disaster magnet. I guess I’m used to it. I drop stuff, trip and fall, say stupid things. I’m like a walking comedy skit. Okay, so give it up. What happened to you?”
Grace was certainly persistent. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone. She hadn’t even told Charlie. “Okay. You promise not to tell anyone? Not your sisters? And especially not your brother?”
“I promise. Really. I mean it.”
She sighed. “So there was this drop-dead gorgeous guy at my firm in Fort Worth. His name was Tristan. We went out four times. He was always making suggestions, you know, sexual suggestions. But I thought he was just flirting. On the fourth date, he declared if I really liked him I would prove it by sleeping with him, although his exact words weren’t even that nice. And when I turned him down, he took me straight home without speaking to me. Two days later he was in a relationship with another girl in the office. After that, I swore off dating.”
“Okay, he was a jerk, but that’s just one guy. You shouldn’t give up because of him.”
“He was only the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Every other good-looking guy I’ve known has turned out to be a jerk or conceited or a player or something. I’m never attracted to the nice ones.”
“So you don’t want to date? Or you don’t want to date Spencer? Do you think he’s a player?”
“Isn’t he?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I know he’s had a lot of different female friends. He’s always claiming they’re only friends and nothing more, just like with you. So maybe it’s true. I only know one thing for sure. He’s a crabby, bossy big brother, but he’s really a sweet guy. He’s not a jerk like most guys who’re that good-looking. That may sound weird coming from a sister.”
“I think he’s lucky to have a loyal sister like you. And I don’t think he’s a jerk either. He’s been really nice to me. But I can’t take a chance on getting hurt again. I’m thinking maybe the guys I’ve dated are too young. Maybe an older guy, someone who’s more mature. Maybe someone like that would’ve outgrown the tendency to play games.”
“Maybe… But I think you should give Spencer a chance.”
“But he doesn’t want a chance, remember? He told me he didn’t want to date right now.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Grace rolled her eyes. “He may be selling, but I’m not buying.”
Chapter Seven
Wednesday morning dawned, and Spencer was still angry and frustrated.
“Candace... This is Spencer calling. Again! Please call me back!” Spencer ended the call and resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room. He’d called and texted five times time on Tuesday and called three times already on Wednesday. Candace hadn’t returned a single phone call or text. He was more convinced than ever she was responsible for the Gherring’s picture being given to the NYC Word. She was obviously avoiding him. He didn’t even know what he was going to say when he finally talked to her, but he needed to give her a piece of his mind.
His cell rang, the caller ID showing Becca’s name. She’d been calling him nonstop since the hike on Saturday, seemingly undiscouraged by his accusations on Monday. He let the call go to voice mail, but his phone slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, bouncing under his desk. He rolled his chair back and leaned under the desk to reach the phone.
“Hey, Spencer. What’re you doing?”
He jumped at the sound of Emily’s voice, banging his head on the desk.
“Ow!” He sat up slowly, rubbing his head.
“Sorry. Are you okay?”
“No. I mean, yes. I guess I bumped my head. I was trying to pick up my phone.” He held up the retrieved object.
“Sorry I startled you. Uhmm, I needed to talk to you.”
“Sure, what’s up?” He tried not to sound too eager. This was the first time she’d come by his desk—maybe it was a good sign. “How was art class with Grace? I’d love to see what you worked on.”
“Uhmm, great. It was great.” Her cheeks reddened.
“That is, if you want to show me. You don’t have to.”
