The Fifteen Date Rule

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The Fifteen Date Rule

Chick lit

Scene 1

By Jean Oram

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CHAPTER ONE

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There were some things in life that Allie couldn’t tolerate doing more than once, and watching herself slander her current, hockey star boyfriend on national television was one of them. She flicked off Entertainment Tonight, the image of her tired, laughing self fading to black, her recorded and replayed words echoing in her head.

Well, Mrs. Gretzky, Giles isn’t exactly the fastest electron in the universe.

Why, oh why had she opened her mouth and inner most thoughts to a woman she barely knew, as well as to eavesdropping cameras? At least Giles had resisted the hockey team’s publicist’s suggestion that he sue for slander. She owed the asteroids and heavenly bodies for that one.

Finally, ‘getting it right’ was within her grasp. All she had to do was find her Best of the Best in Physics banquet tickets and she would be able to show Giles the true her. Heck, show the world. Giles would be so proud to be with her that her public flub up would be all but erased from his mind. She’d stand tall and radiant before the physics community, proving she had made it. She was a commodity both in the physics world and in the dating world.

She was getting it right. After 28 years, she was getting it right. Finally, she had it all. A career on fire and a hot, athletic boyfriend to boot. She slipped into her high heels and checked behind couch cushions for her purse. The doorbell chimed as she grabbed her cell phone from under a cushion.

Purseless and thus, ticketless, she hurried to the front door certain that Giles had decided to pick her up for tonight’s awards ceremony instead of meeting outside the banquet. He was always full of little surprises. Plus, he hated waiting and she was notoriously late.

Damn, where was her purse anyway?

Giving the front door a yank to free it from its tight jam, she stumbled backwards, loosening the heel on her right shoe. “Damn it.” She stomped her foot, forcing the heel to jam back on its nail and thus back into place.

Frigid air knifed through her silk dress as she took in the stranger on her front step. He shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat. “Allison Alexander?”

“Yes?” Disappointment etched her dwindling excitement.

“I’m here to represent your boyfriend, Giles McPherson.”

Allie paused as her mind connected the pieces and ‘getting it right’ slowly slipped from her grasp. Her shoulders slumped. “Ah, crap.” Here it was, financial decimation disguised as a suited-up sports lawyer. Damn Giles and his lies. “Men are so goddamn puzzling.”

“Right, well.” The stranger’s glance darted to the top of Allie’s head. “So are women, if that’s any consolation.”

Anxiety’s fingers raced up Allie’s spine and she furtively tapped her hair. There it was on the top of her head, a forgotten roller holding up a long lock of black hair. She let out the curl, thankful she hadn’t made it out in public this time.

A gust blew past the man, littering her with snow crystals.

She shivered and extended her hand, expecting him to serve her with papers. He gave her hand a firm shake.

“Matthew Chalmers.”

“Allie.” She looked directly into his cocoa eyes, then down at his large feet which were on the front step, a few inches below her heeled ones. At 6’2”, it wasn’t often she got the chance to make sexy eye-to-eye contact while standing.

Pushing the thrilled feeling aside, she checked her kinetic digital watch. Thirty-five minutes until acceptance of Physicist of the Year. She needed to get to Giles before he began to think she’d stood him up. However, if Giles sent a lawyer… did that mean she no longer had a date?

“Allie,” Matthew began in a friendly tone, “I’m here to talk to you about your relationship with Giles.”

Okay. Maybe not a lawyer after all, which could only mean… “I don’t talk to the press,” she chirped and she gave the door a push. “Sorry!”

He placed a hand on the almost-closed door. “I’m not a reporter.” Allie raised an eyebrow through the crack and he added, “I’m an engineer.”

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I have to be at an awards ceremony in thirty-five minutes.” Every second she stood here was one less to find the tickets, and one more second Giles was forced to wait outside the banquet. “Can we talk some other time?”

“I only need a minute.”

Allie sighed and tried to ignore how cute and desperate he looked. “Fine. Sixty seconds. Tops.” She released the door and reached for her winter coat. If Giles wasn’t suing her, what could be important enough to send a lackey?

Matthew jerked the lapels of his wool coat. He cleared his throat again. “I’m here to—”

“Talk about Giles. Right. Can we get the part about the shaggy dog? He’s going to think I’ve stood him up.” Allie checked the time.

Thirty-three minutes until career takeoff. Once again, bubbles of excitement began to build.

She needed to find her purse. Half-listening and half-watching Matthew, she dug through the jumble of mitts, flyers and newspapers stacked on the small table just inside the door.

“As I mentioned, I am here to talk to you about Giles.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“He’s sent me to terminate your romantic relationship.”

“Uh-huh. Ri—”

“He said he hopes the two of you—”

“What? Back up a sec.” Allie slammed down a stack of newspapers, sending them sliding off the table.

“He said—”

“Before that!”

“I’m here to terminate—”

“You’re here to break up with me?” Her voice broke.

“Yes. Giles hopes the two of you can remain friends.”

Friends.

Allie clutched her forehead. This had to be the most humiliating break up ever. And there had been plenty. Oh, Lord. There had been plenty.

“I’m sorry.” The tips of Matthew’s ears were crimson. He began speaking quickly, “I haven’t done this very often. It’s my brother’s new business and I’m only filling—”

“Okay! Okay. Right. Well then. Do you want to go to an awards ceremony seeing as you just terminated the relationship I had with my date?”

God, please don’t make me sit alone in a sea of couples and pretend to be happy about it.

“Please?” she added, blinking back tears, panic, and humiliation.

“I’m uh, taken. Sorry.”

“So? I’m newly single and accepting an award in approximately thirty-three minutes. I desperately need a date. I promise it’ll be 101% platonic fun. Call your girlfriend, tell her to take a hit for a sister in need.”

“You don’t know my girlfriend.”

“Good point. Girls with boyfriends tend to be bitches about that kind of thing.” Allie muttered while buttoning her coat. She was smart. There had to be a brilliant convince-the-stranger-to-be-her-date idea drifting around in her brain somewhere. All she had to do was find it.

“Giles has taken care of everything. Sooo…” Matthew took half a step back.

“No tip necessary?” she offered feebly, feeling like someone had slapped her.

“No tip necessary.”

“You’ll send a pre-paid delivery pick-up in the morning for Giles’s things?”

“No pre-paid service.”

“Just a date stand-in?”

“No date stand-in.”

“Please?” She tried an appealing, huge smile she’d seen models use. “Please?”

Oh God, not alone, not alone.

Matthew backed down the front steps. Too much teeth? She eased her lips into something more natural feeling.

“Good-bye and good luck.” Matthew turned and hurried to his Prius, casting one brief glance over his shoulder as if expecting her to pounce.

Shit. Alone again.

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Copyright Jean Oram. Please contact Jean before any copying or distributing. Thanks!