chapter 5

Nik shut the door behind Carlos and closed her eyes.

Maybe, she thought, if she stood there for a few minutes with her

forehead against this door, it would magically take away the far too

many feelings going through her head right now.

She gave it about two minutes, but it didn't work. So she flopped

back down on the couch and pulled the blanket over her face.

Why hadn't he offered to stay with her that night, Fisher or no

Fisher? She would have said "No, you're too busy, I don't want to

inconvenience you more than I have," and he would have offered

again, and she would have said, "Are you sure?" and he would have

said, "Of course," and she would have said, "You really don't have to,

but . . ." and he would have said, "I want to!" and then she would have

tackled him on the couch. That would have been a much better ending

to tonight than her being on her couch alone feeling like an idiot.

Worse, he hadn't even tried to kiss her! She'd given him every damn

opportunity—she had practically shoved her boobs in his face—and

he'd been all smiling and talking about his cousin and his patients and

blah blah blah. Sure, she'd asked him about those things and hadn't

asked him, "Do you like my boobs in this shirt, Carlos? I grew them

just for you," but he should have gotten that that was what she'd

meant.

Ugh, and she hadn't even invited him upstairs on some sort of

"come look at my etchings" pretext. She'd wanted him for—gag—

protection. When she'd unlocked her front door, she'd been so grateful

that he was there. She'd felt actually comforted by his presence. Even

when he'd ordered her around in a way that she would normally hate,

she'd still been so relieved that he was there.

How humiliating. She, Nikole Paterson, who prided herself on being

self-sufficient and self-reliant and an Independent Woman, et cetera,et cetera, had caved under the slightest amount of pressure and called

on a man to come save her. And she'd almost thrown herself at him in

the process.

Okay, this was getting way out of hand. Sure, her fingers were dying

to run themselves through his thick dark hair, and her hand had

lingered a little too long on his bicep tonight, and every time he curved

those inviting lips of his into a smile, she wanted to pull him closer.

But a rebound with Carlos was a terrible idea, remember? She neither

wanted, nor needed, a rebound with anyone! That was why she'd

hinted it was time for Carlos to go home. Men were trouble. She'd

learned that over and over again. Plus, Carlos was a doctor, and she

was done with doctors. They thought they were better than everyone

else.

She'd never forget that time when her digital recorder had failed

unbeknownst to her during an important interview and she'd burst

into angry tears about it to Justin. He'd said, "Come on, Nikole. It's

just an interview with an actor; it's no big deal. Unlike in my job, no

one's going to die because of a little mistake." She was still mad she'd

stayed with him for another year after that.

She shouldn't have let Carlos come over in the first place. Even

though he'd seemed nice and, yes, she had wished in a weak moment

that he'd ended up in her bed, he still clearly thought that she was a

helpless woman who needed him to protect her. He'd joked about that,

but was it really a joke?

Letting men see your vulnerabilities was always a mistake. There

must be better avenues out there to protect herself against creepy ex-

boyfriends than calling for the nearest man to protect her.

• • •

"A self-defense class?" Dana asked. "You want us to go to a self-defense

class together?"

The three of them were all out at the bar two days later, partly

because she hadn't left her apartment since Monday night, partly so

she could share her great idea with them.

"It's a good idea!" Nik said. "They're supposed to be very

empowering."Courtney and Dana both stared at her like she had sprouted a

second head.

"'Empowering?' Since when do you use words like 'empowering'?"

Courtney asked.

She had a point.

"Sorry, I've been looking at too many self-defense class websites.

But doesn't it sound fun to go punch some stuff? It'll be a great

workout."

Now Dana looked interested. The poor thing had to constantly

exercise. She'd gotten a best friend role in a sitcom the year before,

which meant she could never get above a size two, and even that was

pushing it.

"That does sound fun, but is this one of those classes where

everyone is supposed to share some trauma or something and then you

punch it to, like, conquer your fear or whatever?" she asked.

"There are a bunch of different kinds," Nik said. "They teach you

how to defend yourself, and—"

"Yes, I got that; it's right there in the name," Dana said.

"Shut up, you know what I mean. It'll help us be more confident

walking down the street at night or dealing with creepy guys."

"I drive everywhere, and I've been dealing with creepy guys for over

twenty years. What else you got?" Dana drained her drink.

"Hmm, will it also help some of us deal with ex-boyfriends who

send vaguely threatening messages?" Courtney asked.

She'd sort of hoped that they wouldn't connect the dots about why

she was interested in the class. It was a ridiculous hope, though.

Unfortunately, she had intelligent friends.

"You didn't tell me that." Dana sat up straight. "What the hell did he

say to you?" She pulled out her phone. "I'm texting my roller derby

friends—what's his address?"

Nik grabbed her phone away.

"You don't need to text your roller derby friends. It's not like that."

Dana smacked Courtney on the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me

this was happening? He's freaked her out so much that she wants totake a self-defense class?"

Courtney took Dana's phone from Nik and handed it back to Dana.

"Why am I getting yelled at for this?" She pointed at Nik. "She's the

one who should have told you."

Dana squeezed the lime into her gin and tonic before she took a sip.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm mad at both of you. But I know you saw her

on Monday. You told me she'd blocked Fisher, but not that his

messages had gotten her to the self-defense class state. I'm going to

that man's house with a pitchfork."

Even when they drove her crazy, Nik loved her friends so much.

"You don't need to go to his house with a pitchfork." She took a sip

of her drink and reconsidered. "At least, wait a few days—he's still in

Vegas."

Dana opened the calendar on her phone and made a note.

"Look, this isn't about Fisher," Nik said. Her friends stared at her

with identical looks of disbelief. "Okay, fine, it's not only about Fisher.

It was just . . . when I got home on Monday, after his texts and all of

the harassment from random dudes, I was so paranoid. I even . . ."

She'd tried to avoid telling them this, but part of her always knew it

would come out in the end.

"So Monday night I had dinner with Carlos, and . . . I was so

anxious about all of this that I got him to come check my apartment

with me. It made me feel so stupid."

Dana put her arm around her.

"Oh, honey. That sucks, but you have nothing to be ashamed about.

It's those assholes who made you so worried who should be ashamed

of themselves. I'm glad Carlos was there."

Nik leaned into her friend and nodded.

"He cracked jokes the whole time, thank God. If he'd been super

nice and thoughtful and concerned about me, it would have made me

throw up."

"Okay." Courtney put her drink down. "I'm also very glad he was

there for you, and I'm even more glad he wasn't all weird about it, butwhat will make me the gladdest is if you tell us you slept with him

afterward."

She shook her head.

"No, guys, seriously, it wasn't like that."

Courtney pursed her lips.

"But why wasn't it like that? He's hot, he's clearly into you, he's the

perfect rebound, and good Lord do you need one."

Only the first one of those points was correct.

"No, I told you. I have to swear off men for a while. Every

relationship I've had with a man in the past decade has been awful.

There was Justin and Fisher, and remember that graphic designer I

dated last year, who told me he was in an open marriage on the fourth

date? I've had enough."

Courtney nodded, like she'd heard this a million times before. To be

fair, she probably had.

"Yes, yes, we know, except we also saw the way you looked at Carlos

on Saturday night. Maybe you should swear off men for a while after

you've had your rebound."

Did they not listen to her, or did they just decide they knew better?

"One: I told you guys, starting anything with him, or any man, is a

bad idea. Men always think they can make demands on me, and I'm

sick of that. Two: Carlos is clearly not interested in me—he didn't make

the slightest move on me on Monday night. And three: if I did want to

date someone right now, Carlos is absolutely not that someone."

Dana put her hand on Nik's.

"You've got to get over this doctor thing. This guy is not like Justin.

Not all doctors are like Justin."

Nik sighed and took a sip of her drink.

"I know he isn't. Like, I know that intellectually. And I've been over

Justin for a long time. I really have been. But it took years after I was

over him to get past how shitty he made me feel about my writing. I'm

just now at the place where I'm proud of both my work and my career,

and I don't want anyone to try to fuck with that."

Dana nodded."We know, honey. But you're a very different person than you were

when you dated Justin. What would you have done two weeks ago if

Fisher had pulled a Justin and told you not to take a great new job?"

"I would have laughed at him," Nik said immediately.

"Exactly!" Courtney said. "To take another example from Justin's

greatest hits, what would you have done if that Morton dude you dated

had read one of your pieces and had told you to give up writing?"

Nik had to laugh. Her friends remembered everything. Well, almost

everything.

"Morris, not Morton. And fine, I would have thrown him out of my

apartment. I get your point. I'm in a better place in my life, fine. But

still."

"But still what?" Dana threw her arm around her. "Have more faith

in yourself, Nik. We do."

Nik refused to let herself cry.

"Oh, shut up. It's only because of the faith you two have in me that

got me out of the relationship with Justin in the first place, so there."

She pulled both of her friends into a brief hug. As much as she loved

her friends, they were wrong about Carlos, though. Everything they'd

said about the guys she'd recently dated had proved it: the reason it

was so easy to discount them and their opinions was because she didn't

like those guys all that much. Carlos, though, she actually liked. Dating

someone you found both smart and interesting seemed much harder.

Much riskier.

"To get us back on topic: we were talking about how Monday night I

asked a man who I barely knew to come to my apartment with me

because I was feeling helpless. And if there's one thing I hate, it's

feeling helpless."

"You also hate raw peaches," Dana said.

"That fuzz against your teeth!"

"And those five-finger running shoes," Courtney said.

Nik shuddered.

"They make your feet look like hobbit feet!"

"Filled doughnuts," Dana said."They ooze!" Nik said. "Especially the ones with red stuff inside—it's

like there's blood in there."

"When people have the keyboard sound up on their phone," Dana

said.

"Okay, but doesn't everyone hate that?" Nik asked them.

"Beaches," Courtney said.

"So much sand," Nik said. "It gets everywhere. And I mean

everywhere. I don't know why people love them."

"Rompers."

"Carrot cake."

"Mashed potatoes."

"People who don't use the Oxford comma!"

"Don't forget Chardonnay!"

"Okay, okay, fine, you guys can stop now," Nik said. They would

have gone on forever if she hadn't interrupted them. "You're both

correct. I hate many things, okay? But feeling helpless is high up there.

You happy now?"

It was amazing that two women who were so different in both looks

and personality could have the exact same smug smile.

"Yes," they said in unison.

"After all that, now you know you have to go with me to a self-

defense class, right?" Nik said.

"Oh." Dana looked at Courtney, and they both looked back at Nik.

"We were always going to go with you. We just had to make fun of you

first. When's the first class?"

Nik grinned.

"Tomorrow."

• • •

Carlos sat down on the corner of his couch with his dinner late on

Wednesday night. He hadn't heard from Nik since Tuesday morning—

he'd texted her to check in and see how she was doing, and she'd texted

back that she was much better and thanked him again. He'd assumedthat was a brush-off and he shouldn't text her again, but now he was

reconsidering that. Nik's brush-offs didn't seem that subtle, for one

thing. He'd seen that at Dodger Stadium. Maybe he'd text her one

more time.

Did those Thai leftovers kill you? I hope you ate them yesterday. They get spicier

over time.

A few seconds after he pressed send, his phone rang. My God, was it

that easy?

He looked at his phone. Angela. Nope, not that easy.

"Hey," she said. "I just got off the phone with Jessie."

His cousin Jessica had just been diagnosed with preeclampsia, and

he'd been fielding calls from his mom and aunt about it all day. He'd

finally gotten to talk to Jessie right before he left the hospital that

evening.

"I talked to her, too," he said to Angela. "Don't freak out. It's still

early, but it's a good sign that her doctors sent her home and had her

go on bed rest instead of admitting her."

Part of him wished her doctors had admitted her to the hospital—

that way she and the baby would be safe and monitored every day in

case of any problems. The thing no one told you about being a doctor

was how much you would panic when people you loved had anything

wrong with them. Doctors knew way too much about the worst-case

scenarios.

"You're telling me not to freak out? From what Jessie said, you

freaked her out! She said her doctors made her feel less stressed about

this, and when she left her doctor's appointment, she wasn't too

worried, but after she talked to you, she's all anxious again."

His phone buzzed.

Oh wow, really? Thanks for the news bulletin. That would have been a nice thing to

tell me on Monday night, not well after I ate them for lunch on Tuesday and had my

tongue on fire for 12 full hours. Now I know why you let me have them.

He tried not to laugh. He didn't want to have to explain his laughter

to Angela.

"I'm sorry I freaked Jessie out, but she needs to know when she

should go back to the hospital. If her blood pressure gets too high, it

can be dangerous."He texted back.

I don't know what you're talking about. I was just being a gentleman.

"She knows all of that; that's what her doctor is for! We all know all

of that now. We have Google, too."

He rolled his eyes at his bowl of lentil soup. It was like Angela

wasn't even listening to him.

"I didn't know that because of Google. I know because I'm a

doctor!"

They all remembered he was a doctor when they needed him, but

ignored it whenever they felt like it.

"I know you're a doctor, but stop making her more anxious about

everything! She needs your support right now, not you trying to drive

her blood pressure up."

Of course Jessie had his support. Jessie was his younger cousin, but

only by a year. She had teased him and played with him and laughed at

him and encouraged him and been proud of him his whole life. One of

the framed pictures he had in his house was of him at three and Jessie

at two, both looking dubiously at baby Angela.

Ohhhhhh, is that what being a gentleman is? Letting the woman absorb all of the

pain while you take the glory? Now I understand what all of those men who told me they

were such gentlemen were saying.

He had to mute his call so he could laugh at that.

"Look," Angela continued. "I know you're stressed right now,

coming up on the five-year anniversary of Dad, but—"

He stopped laughing.

"It's not that," he said. He'd been trying to ignore that the

anniversary of his father's death was coming up. "I'm just trying to take

care of this family, that's all."

Ever since his father's death, Carlos had sort of considered himself

head of his family. He'd never say that out loud to his mother or to Tia

Eva, but he assumed they thought the same thing. Jessie's dad had

never been around, so his dad had always done all of the car

maintenance, yard work, and home repairs for all of them. When his

dad died, Carlos had taken over all of that. But it was more than just

the physical work: he thought of his family as his responsibility. He

wasn't going to have anything happen to Jessie on his watch."Look, I don't want to fight about this," he said to Angela. "I'm just

trying to take care of Jessie the best I know how. I have to work late

tomorrow, but I'm going to stop by to see her on Friday."

Don't tell anyone I told you the gentleman code. The other gentlemen out there will

murder me.

"Oh great, I have an idea: before you stop by to see Jessie, why don't

you go to the doctor? She would love that, and so would I."

He sighed. Not this again.

"Next topic, Angela."

She laughed.

"Fine, but remember what I said. By the way, did you see the video

of that proposal pop up everywhere? Wild, right? Poor Nik. I wonder

how she's holding up."

My lips are sealed. I mean, until I write the big exposé about this.

"She's hanging in there," he said, without thinking.

Oh shit.

"Oh, is she? How do you know that, may I ask?"

Well he definitely could not say it was because he and Nik had been

texting throughout this conversation. Anytime he even hinted that he

enjoyed a woman's company, Angela was convinced they'd live happily

ever after. And while he still didn't know what was going to happen

between him and Nik, he knew that wasn't in the cards.

"We had dinner on Monday night. She emailed me to say thanks for

Saturday—she wanted me to say thanks to you, too, by the way—and

we ended up grabbing Thai food."

"Hmmmm. Weird that you didn't mention that she wanted you to

say thanks to me. I wonder how that happened?"

Why couldn't they still be talking about Jessie?

"I've kind of had a lot going on this week, Angie. Between being a

doctor and taking care of our whole family, it sort of slipped my mind."

"Well, I liked her, and it seems like you liked her, too, so . . ."

Just make sure you don't use my real name in your exposé. Give me one of those

hipster baby names, like Carver or Fletcher or Winston.He never should have let it slip that he'd even thought about Nik

after Saturday night. He needed to nip this in the bud right away. Even

if something did end up happening with Nik, it wasn't going to be the

kind of relationship his sister kept pushing him toward.

"I didn't like her that much. I only had dinner with her because I

felt sorry for her. She was dealing with some harassment after the

video went public and was freaked out."

Maybe someday he'd be able to date someone seriously, but it was

way too soon since his father had died for that. He couldn't put another

woman over his mother and sister—not to mention Jessie and Tia Eva.

He needed to be able to race to Angie's house when she sprained her

ankle or go furniture shopping with his mom on the weekend or

change the tires on Tia Eva's car. All of the things his dad used to do. If

he was dating someone, he wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"Mmmhmmm," Angie said. "You felt sorry for her, sure. Like I

believe that one."

He shook his head.

"Good-bye, Angela. Talk to you later."

How about Atticus? You seem like you could be an Atticus.

He put his feet up on his coffee table and laughed and laughed.