Rules Of Engagement

20

“Oh, my goodness, no!” she declares with a girlish laugh. “I’m a Pioneers fan, Mr. Spark! Our boys are the best in the league!” More furious lash batting. “But, of course, the team wouldn’t be anything without you. And may I say, you’re even more handsome in person than on TV. Why, you could be a movie star!”

“Oh, stop,” he says, clearly not wanting her to stop. “You’ll make me blush.”

“I’m serious! You make Tom Brady look like a chimpanzee!”

They beam at each other. Meanwhile, I’m repeating Thou shalt not kill silently inside my head.

Auntie Waldine, for some bizarre reason, looks like she’s trying hard not to burst into laughter.

“Wait,” says Bettina, appearing confused. For the first time, she notices I’m there and looks at me.

Her perfectly arched brows draw together. “He’s your friend?”

“Shocking, I know.”

Bettina is too busy being perplexed to notice my sarcastic tone. She looks me up and down, the tiny hamster in her brain spinning furiously on its wheel. “How on earth did the two of you meet?”

“The local library,” says Mason, smiling blandly. “There was a charity event a while back that I attended. Maddie happened to be there at the time. She told me the Sunday service here was great, so here I am.”

That story is as holey as Swiss cheese, but I know he’s only trying to avoid admitting he hired me to find him a wife. Unfortunately, his answer provides Bettina the perfect opportunity to take a dig at me. And dig she does, the witch.

Her lovely face projecting innocence, she says, “Yes, we all thought she’d become a librarian, being so bookish and all.” Her gaze drifts over my hair, my glasses, my dress, then a faint smile lifts the corners of her lips. “She certainly does have the look.”

Mason’s voice gains an edge. “What’s wrong with that? Librarians are smart and essential in helping kids develop critical thinking skills and guiding them through media literacy.” That stuns me as much as it does Bettina.

Her because she’s probably never had a man speak to her in anything but an adoring tone, and me for that reason, too, but also because he repeated verbatim what I said to him when he teased me on the phone.

I can’t decide if I’m more surprised he defended me to his next conquest or that he has such perfect recall of our conversation.

Sensing she’s on thin ice, Bettina says haltingly, “Oh, yes… of course. Librarians are wonderful!” She pats my arm. It might as well be the top of my head.

Then, because my life is a romantic comedy only there’s no romance and nobody’s laughing, the last man I had s*x with strolls right up and joins the conversation.

11

MASON

“H ello, Madison,” says a dude who looks like he has to spend four hours in front of a mirror every day practicing how to smile so he can pass as human.

Wearing a blue three-piece suit with a gray tie cinched so tight around his neck it has to be cutting off his circulation, he’s tall, slim, and immaculate. His shoes and fingernails gleam.

I’d bet my Maybach that he gets weekly facials and eats lots of kale.

Staring at Maddie, he bares his teeth like he’s expecting her to check to see if he’s been flossing. Then they launch into this weirdly formal conversation, expressions blank, voices flat. Two robots practicing their speaking skills would be more animated.

He says, “You look wonderful. How have you been?”

“I’m well, thank you, Bobby. You?”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

“I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“My mother’s ill. I flew in a few days ago to look in on her.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is it serious?”

“It is, I’m afraid. She’s in the hospital.”

“Her heart again?”

“Yes.”

“Please send her my best regards.”

“I certainly will, thank you.”

Bettina yawns, miffed that she hasn’t been acknowledged. Waldine is looking at the empty space over the new arrival’s head with a faint air of disappointment. And I’m wondering how this guy knows Maddie.

Is he her accountant?

“Hi.” I stick out my hand. “Mason Spark.”

He turns his attention to me. I see him register who I am, then he shows me his incisors, and we shake hands.

“Mason Spark, our very own hometown hero. I’m Robert Cavendish. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I don’t miss that Maddie called him Bobby, but he introduced himself as Robert. Not her accountant, then. Family friend?

“You, too. Hope your mom will be okay.”

He blinks like I said something surprising. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

Then he seems to realize I was standing here before he walked up. He looks around, as if for an explanation. When his gaze settles on Bettina, examining her nails, his expression sours.

He turns away from her like you’d pull away from a spider about to crawl onto your hand. Which I find very, very f*****g interesting, considering every other guy in here besides me wanted to bend her over the altar and make her see God.

“Hello, Waldine.”

“Bobby,” replies Waldine, still squinting at the air a few inches over his head.

He seems to know what she’s doing, because he politely inquires, “Still the same?”

Waldine sighs, then pats his shoulder. “Gray as a granny’s cardigan, darlin’. Send your mama my love, will you? I’d go visit her myself, but you know how hospitals clog up my third eye.”

Robert the robot gazes at Waldine with something that looks suspiciously like affection. “I’ll be sure to let her know.” Then he turns his attention back to Maddie, and the warmth in his eyes flares hotter.