Sign Me Up by Dulcie Dameron
Jamie
I’ll get to sleep in and enjoy my Saturday morning routine, a string of text messages comes in, effectively ruining my sleep schedule. I guess staying in bed until nine thirty before grabbing an iced coffee with Daria and hitting up the local farmer’s market will begin earlier than I’d planned.
I roll over in bed and fumble around on my nightstand until I feel my phone beneath my fingers. Tapping into my messaging app, I groan aloud when I see the messages are from Mike. Again.
Mike:It feels like you’re ignoring me…please tell me you’re not ignoring me.
Mike:Look, I’m sorry. I can’t make things right with you if you won’t talk to me.
Mike:You’re probably grumpy because I interrupted your Saturday morning beauty sleep, but I wondered if I could join you for brunch this morning.
Something twinges in my chest at the thought that he remembered my Saturday morning routine. I shouldn’t care. We dated for seven months, of course he would know my routine, but…this level of interest from him makes me feel like he actually cares. And that’s so unlike Mike that it rattles me. Plus, it sounds like if I don’t respond to him, he’ll just keep texting.
I blow a frustrated breath through my lips, wishing I was the type of girl who could block and delete a guy when they broke it off. But I’m not that cold. I don’t like making enemies and burning bridges, especially when there are so few people from my past still in my life.
And part of me does sort of miss what we had, even if it all went to pot long before I ever guessed it would.
I stare at my phone, debating what to do, when it buzzes in my hand. Great. Now he’s calling. Taking a deep, bolstering breath, I click the green button and say, “Hello?” as if I don’t know who’s on the other end.
“Jamie? You answered.” Mike’s voice is breathy, almost reverent. It has me sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“What’s going on, Mike?” Even with the breathiness in his voice, there’s a bite to my words. I’m not letting him off easy.
“Nothing. Nothing’s going on, I just…I just want to see you. I miss you.”
Anger swift and hot replaces my curiosity from before. “Mike, what’s this all about? You’ve been texting me more in the last week than you did the entire last month we were together. What’s your game?”
“Jamie, there’s no game.” A pregnant pause. “Maybe a guy like me just doesn’t realize what he had until it’s gone.”
A guy like him? Handsome, somewhat charming, with a steady, albeit boring, job as an insurance agent? I take a shuddering breath, then let it out slowly.
“Can I see you?” he asks.
Why is he doing this right now, of all times? Last night I went to sleep questioning my feelings for my best friend…thinking about how nice it felt to let him touch me…how awesome his family is and wishing they were mine.
But I know it wasn’t right to think of him in that way. I can’t bank on Parker having feelings for me, even with the weird way he’s been acting lately. Things have felt different between us, yes, but is that just a part of his touchy nature or is it more? I could be reading the entire situation wrong. It’s not like I can ask him and find out. Especially when I already know crossing that line will end badly for us both.
“Jamie? You still there?” The worry in Mike’s voice brings me back to our conversation.
“I’m not comfortable having brunch with you,” I say honestly. Besides, I’m not going to ditch Daria for our weekly thing just because he wants to see me.
“Okay. I understand. How about I meet you at the farmer’s market and just…walk around with you for a few minutes.”
I sigh through the phone and it’s clear he hears it.
“I could just show up there, you know,” he says, a smile in his voice. “It is a public place and all.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” At least, I hope he wouldn’t. That’s like, stalker level stuff.
“No, not if you didn’t want me to.”
I relax into the pillows behind me. “Fine. Meet me by the Greg’s Nursery stand in an hour.”
“Thanks, babe. Can’t wait to see you.”
I grit my teeth at the pet name he refuses to let go of. “I’m not your babe. And I’ll see you then. Bye.”
As soon as I press the end button, a knock sounds on my bedroom door. “Come in,” I call to the only person it could be.
Daria opens the door and peeks her head inside the room. “Did I hear you talking to someone?” She lifts both eyebrows.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I whip the covers off, shivering at the sudden chill when my feet hit the icy hardwood floor.
“Why unfortunately? Who was it?”
I stand in front of my dresser mirror, pulling my hair up into a messy bun and glare at her reflection behind me. “Mike.”
Her face instantly contorts with horror as she steps further into my room. “Mike? What, why?”
“Exactly,” I mumble, opening my dresser drawers and pulling out my favorite pair of black leggings and oversized Shania T-shirt. “Turn around, please, so I can get dressed.” She does as I command while I slip off my pink Hello Kitty pajamas and pull on my black clothes. I tug a—you guessed it—black zip-up hoodie over top and pull on a pair of white ankle socks before finishing off my look with my leopard Vans. “Why is what I’ve been asking myself since he texted me a few days ago.”
“Wait,” she says, turning toward me and holding up a hand. She drops onto my bed with one foot tucked underneath her. “Mike texted you days ago and you didn’t tell me?”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d get like this.” I wave my hand up and down her body. “All defensive and stuff.”
She jerks her head at me as if to say, duh!, then holds out her hands. “Of course I’d get defensive. You’re one of my best friends and he was a jerk. I don’t want to see him hurt you twice.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t like that, Daria. He didn’t hurt me any worse than any other guy who dated me just long enough to figure out I wasn’t his type.”
She crosses her arms and raises that one, menacing eyebrow again, her signature annoyed expression. “But he was your longest adult relationship. So it hurt worse when he started giving you the cold shoulder. I know it did, don’t even try to deny it.”
Blowing out a breath, I put my hands in my hoodie’s pockets. “Alright, fine. I’ll give you that. But I’m over him. I don’t want to get back together.”
“Good,” she says, a spark lighting her eyes. “Because after what you told me about Parker last night, I was kind of hoping the two of you might get together.”
A scoff bursts from my lips. “Seriously?” Now I’m regretting telling her about the family dinner with Parker, and the way we cozied up on the couch with each other after. She’s seen us together and I guess I just wanted her to confirm that we’d never been quite like that during any of our previous TV hang outs.
I spear her with a glare. “You know we could never work. Tried the dating your friend thing and it went horribly, remember?”
She mimics the look I give her. “That was in high school, Jamie. You can’t base what you share with Parker on some immature teenage relationship.”
We stare at each other in silent challenge for who knows how many seconds. Finally, she shrugs. “I don’t see what’s stopping you. You guys get along great. He’s hot, you’re hot.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I laugh. “And he invited you over to meet his parents last night…”
I start to shake my head and object, but she charges ahead. “And you said he was acting out of character…tucking your hair behind your ear, rubbing your feet.” She gives me a look. “It sounds to me like he’s trying to up his game.”
I groan and fall face first onto the bed beside her. “Why does everything have to be a game?” I grumble into the covers.
“What are you talking about?”
“Games!” I cry before sitting up to face her, gesturing wildly with my hands. “Men! Dating! All of it. Everything is a game! Mike’s trying to manipulate me somehow, whether it’s to get me back simply because he misses me or something else…and Parker’s messing with my head—”
“I highly doubt Parker’s trying to mess with your head—”
“And Stefan’s moving all of his employees around like chess pieces, pitting us against each other just so one of us can come out on top to win this exclusive interview with Paris!”
“Okay, calm down,” Daria says, voice like warm honey as she rubs a hand down my arm. “I don’t think Stefan is trying to pit his employees against each other. Isn’t he trying to bring you guys together with these activities?”
“That’s what he says, but—”
“And maybe it’s wrong of him to make you guys play nice in order to get this interview, but it could also mean that he’s trying to watch and see which of you has the best people skills to be able to handle a celebrity like Paris.”
“Okay, maybe, but—”
“And,” Daria continues, undeterred, “out of everything you’ve said, the only thing that really adds up is that Mike trying to win you back right now is sketchy. Even if it is just because he misses you, a guy who doesn’t realize that until after you’ve left the relationship isn’t worth keeping around. Trust me.” Something flickers in Daria’s dark eyes, putting a crack in her stern resolve.
I know she’s been hurt by guys in the past, just like I have, but something tells me her hurts go way deeper than mine. She’s not one to divulge much about her past relationships, having been raised in multiple foster homes and not wanting to relive that part of her life, but I hope someday she’ll be comfortable enough to share.
“Okay,” I say. “Maybe you’re right about some of that.”
A proud smile curves her perfectly plump lips. “I know I’m right. Well, at least about Parker and Mike. Stefan, I’m not sure, but I’d like to think your boss has his employees’ best interests at heart.”
“Yeah, you and me both,” I mutter, not at all sure that he does.
“Either way.” She slaps the top of my thigh. “It’s time for us to get an iced coffee. I promise you’ll feel better once you’re caffeinated and looking at plants.”
My heart lifts at her encouragement and I smile. “You’re right. Let’s go get some coffee.”
Everything seems brighter in the world once my hands are holding an iced venti maple pecan latte. My reusable shopping bag with a graphic that reads, “so many books, so little time,” is slung over my shoulder with a romance novel in tow, bumping against my side. Usually after brunch, Daria and I sit in silence while I read a chapter or two of my novel, and she peruses the latest fashion magazines.
“I’m upset with you,” Daria says, giving me some serious side-eye as we walk toward the farmer’s market. Her tone is more flippant than serious, so I keep moving.
“Why? What’d I do?”
She stops and waves a hand over her body. “You didn’t even notice my new dress.”
I look her over, taking in every detail of the dress she must’ve whipped up this week. Daria’s notorious for sewing a top or skirt, even an entire dress, all in one sitting. “It looks great, D. I love the pin-tucked waist look.”
She smiles approvingly as she starts walking again. “Thanks. I actually made it from a men’s shirt I found at the thrift store. It’s super soft. Feel it.”
I reach a hand out to finger the heathered gray fabric at her sleeve. “Wow, you’re right. Your skills are impressive.” Her lips barely lift any higher, but I know she’s inwardly beaming at the praise.
An idea pops into my head. “Hey, maybe you can create a custom dress for Paris Dawson? Then if I get to interview her, I can gift her a totally unique, one-of-a-kind Daria Dantez creation.”
She turns toward me with a skeptical look. “Girl. I’m a no-name designer currently working full-time in retail because I don’t have enough cold hard cash to start my own business. What would a celebrity like Paris want with something I’ve made?”
“You’re selling yourself short, D. Paris would be lucky to wear something you whipped up. And from what I hear, she’s super down-to-earth. I mean, she did grow up not far from here. She’d probably be all about it.”
My friend still doesn’t look convinced, but when she falls silent, I hope she’s thinking it over. Though she can be prickly at times, she’s the truest friend I’ve ever had, and I so badly want to see her succeed at her dream of becoming a fashion designer.
She and I met at our local community college while she was taking business classes and I was getting my degree in journalism. Her quick wit and sarcastic personality instantly drew me, and we’ve been friends ever since.
When Pops started to lose his memory and checked into the care center, leaving his and Nonie’s home to me, the thought of being by myself was overwhelming. I’d never lived alone before and even though the house was paid for, taking care of a house by myself would be a completely foreign experience. It spiked an entirely different level of anxiety when I was faced with that prospect. So Daria offered to become my roommate. Thankfully, her lease was up, and everything fell into place.
It’s been amazing sharing a house with her these past nine or so months. She’s not as tidy as I am, but she’s funny and full of life and we get along great. Even when we don’t see eye to eye on things.
Things like the idea that Parker may be into me.
I shove the thought away as we reach one of my favorite vendors, Meta Minerals and More. Stacey, the owner, smiles wide when she sees us approach. “Hey, girlies. How’s your Saturday morning going?”
“Great!” Daria answers for both of us. “What’s new this week?” Her eyes alight when they take in the sparkling geodes Stacey’s artfully arranged on the table.
“Well, we’ve got these beautiful new amethyst stones in,” Stacey replies, her voice fading into the background as I wander to the far end of the table where sparkly white heart-shaped stones catch my eye. The little chalk sign in front of the stones says, Druzy White Lace Agate and the price. I pick one of them up and rub it between my thumb and forefinger, inspecting its little divots and imperfections.
“That’s a healing stone, you know.” The masculine voice has me raising my head.
“Hey, Lionel.” I greet Stacey’s husband with a smile.
“You look like more of an onyx type of girl,” he says before handing me a bracelet with a reflective black stone set in the center.
“Really?” I ask, setting down the white stone and inspecting the bracelet. “How come?”
“Well, every time I see you, you are wearing black.”
I laugh, handing it back. “It is pretty.” My eyes catch on a set of earrings to my right that sparkle in the sunlight. “Oh, wow. Those pink druzy earrings you’ve got there are gorgeous.”
“They are,” he says, picking them up and handing them to me. “Stacey and I actually made these together. It was a team effort.”
I lift my gaze to meet his. “You’re a dedicated husband, Lionel. Stacey is lucky to have you.”
His grin widens. “I’d say it’s the other way around. I’m lucky to have her.” Considering me a moment longer, he says, “So, those the ones you want?”
Biting my lip, I debate splurging on the earrings I may never even wear. I mean, they are pink. Suddenly the memory of the lacy pink underpants resurfaces, and I swallow. “Um. No, not today. Thanks, though.”
“You sure? I think they’d look great on you.”
I smile, setting them back onto the table and backing up a step. “Not today. I’ll think about it for next week, though.”
He narrows his eyes like he knows the reason I’m shunning all things pink. “Okay. They’ll be here if you change your mind.”
“Ooh, are you getting those?” Daria asks, pointing to the earrings. “I’m getting this one.” She holds up one of the smooth, pink stones she was eyeing earlier. “Stacey says it attracts men. We’ll see.” She spears Stacey with her signature raised eyebrow and the shop owner just laughs.
“That’s not exactly what I said. But even if it doesn’t attract the love you hope to find, it will look pretty on your nightstand.” She and Daria exchange payment as we say our goodbyes, and then we’re off again, moving toward my favorite vendor, Greg’s Nursery. Unfortunately for me, the experience will be tainted by Mike’s presence.
Is it wrong that I secretly hope he’ll bail on me, and we can finally be done with all this nonsense? Of course, I’m not that lucky. As soon as the green awning for Greg’s comes into view, I spot Mike’s familiar form next to the tent’s opening.
His brown hair is styled, and he looks effortlessly handsome in his dark jeans and hunter green Henley. He’s scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other is stuffed in his jeans pocket when we approach.
“Want me to hang back?” Daria’s whispered question stops me in my tracks.
“Would you?” I turn to face her, and she nods. “Just don’t go far, okay? I’m hoping this won’t take more than twenty minutes.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right.” She gives me a knowing look, then puts on her sunglasses and saunters away toward the aisle of fresh veggies.
Taking a deep inhale and releasing it slowly, I walk forward. “Hey, Mike.”
As soon as he hears my voice, his head whips up. “Jamie.” His smile is mega-watt. “Man, you look great. It’s so good to see you.” He pulls me into a lung-crushing hug, and I resist the urge to push him away. He must feel my stiff posture because he backs up with a grimace. “Sorry, it’s just been too long. And you look even better than when I last saw you.” As if he has the right to do so, he sweeps his gaze over me from head to toe.
“I’m wearing leggings and a band tee,” I deadpan. “If you think I was dressing to impress, you’re wrong.”
Even my sarcastic ire doesn’t trip him up. “You don’t need to dress to impress. You’re beautiful as is.” The way his smile refuses to dim is disconcerting.
“So,” I say, shifting my weight from side to side. “Want to…look around?” I motion inside Greg’s tent, hoping to at least see if I can find a friend for Beatrice. She’s getting lonely on my desk all by herself.
“Yeah, sure.”
I move forward, eyeing this week’s plants as Mike trails behind me. As much as I can, I focus on the green leaves, the different species of houseplants Greg carries, as well as the discounted fruit trees he’s trying to unload before winter. But with Mike looming over me like a heavy storm cloud, I find it hard to focus.
"How Fluffy?" I ask, sneaking a look at Mike. He winces, probably because his cat was a sore spot in our relationship.
"Fine." We say nothing more as I try to enjoy plant shopping, but with Mike here, I just can't.
Chalking it up to a loss, I completely skip over the succulents and silently promise Beatrice that I’ll go friend-hunting next week. We leave the tent, and I whirl on Mike. “This is weird.”
His face falls a little, but he doesn’t lose that infuriating smile. “I know, I just…I just want to be with you. Hang out.”
My breathing turns rapid, and I can feel my nostrils beginning to flare. “You said you wanted to make things right with me. To apologize.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So do it.”
He pauses a beat before straightening his posture, his brown eyes locking with mine. “Jamie, I’m sorry for not treating you like you deserved to be treated. I ditched you when I should’ve been a better boyfriend. Commitment is something I’ve always struggled with, but I realize now how childish I was being” His shoulders sag with the admission and I’m stunned by the genuine regret in his eyes. “Will you please forgive me?”
His apology is so sincere it almost breaks my resolve to cut him out of my life. “I…yes. I forgive you.” There. That wasn’t so hard. I swallow and avert my gaze.
“Thank you,” he breathes. Taking my hand, he places it on his chest. “I’d like you to give me another chance. Please.”
I meet his eyes, bristling at the contact, unsure where to go from here. His eyes are pleading, but I don’t think I can give what they’re asking. I truly don’t want to hurt him when he’s being so vulnerable. This is exactly the kind of thing that would’ve had me melting in his arms a month ago. If he’d have shown me this softer side then, maybe I would’ve stuck around even when he started to blow me off for his cat.
One thing I know for sure—I can’t go any further until I know his motivations. Is it really that he misses me or is it something else?
“Why?” It’s a simple one-word question. But how he answers matters.
“Why?” he repeats like he doesn’t understand.
“Yes,” I reiterate. “Why do you want another chance with me.”
His brown eyes bounce back and forth between mine as he licks his lips. “Because I miss you, like I said. I realize now how good for me you were. And…” His quiet confidence falters as his eyelashes flutter.
“And what?” I set my jaw, biting the inside of my cheek.
“And there’s this thing coming up. This…work dinner that’s really important to my boss.” He waits for me to respond, but the moment I shake my head and start to pull my hand away, he tightens his grip and rushes on with his explanation. “Please, just listen for five minutes, okay?”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I bite out, enraged.
“No, no you don’t. You’re right. I was an idiot to let you go, I see that now. And you don’t owe me anything, but I’m asking you to listen. Just for five minutes.”
His words puncture my steel resolve once again. Why can’t I be as hard and unyielding as Daria is when it comes to exes?
“Fine. Spit it out.”
His shoulders relax and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I take advantage of his relief and pull my hand away, crossing my arms under my chest.
“Family is super important to my boss,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “His agency is a pillar in the community, a family-oriented business.”
I start tapping my foot when he beats around the bush.
“And he’s holding this big family insurance dinner where all of the clients and their families are invited to attend. It’s at the Marshall’s mansion on the edge of town. Have you heard of it?”
I nod. Almost everyone in Treemont has heard of the mansion-sized family home that was turned into a wedding venue a few years ago.
“Well, my boss, John, sort of gave me a…a talking to.” For the first time since knowing Mike, pink tinges his cheeks and he looks embarrassed. “He basically said that it was time for me to take my work seriously and settle down with a family. That I’m twenty-nine and I’m not getting any younger. And he wants to turn the business over to me someday, but he needs to know I hold the same family-oriented ideals that he does before he does so.”
My brows pull together of their own accord. “Mike, you shouldn’t let your boss call the shots when it comes to your life.” As soon as I say it, I cringe. Am I letting Stefan do that to me?
He dips his chin and rocks back on his heels. “I know. And I’m not, really, it’s just…after he said all that, I got to thinking. I realized that the only woman who ever made me even consider settling down was…well, it was you. And I was too stubborn to see it at the time. It took you breaking up with me and completely ignoring me to see that we could really be great together.”
I take a moment to consider everything he’s telling me. His regret seems sincere, but if all this was spurred on by some lecture he got from his boss, how can I trust that it’s real? And even if it is real, do I want to give another chance to a guy who couldn’t see my worth while we were together?