2: The Fifteen Date Rule

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The Fifteen Date Rule

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 is 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 award banquet tickets and it would be hers. She’d stand tall and radiant before the physics community, displaying that she had it all, hot, athletic boyfriend included. 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.

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 back into place.

A stranger shifted from foot to foot on her front step. Frigid air knifed through her silk dress, and disappointment etched her dwindling excitement.

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

Allie paused as her mind connected the pieces and ‘getting it right’ edged away from her fingertips. “Ah, crap.” Here it was, financial decimation disguised as a suited-up sports lawyer.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing,” she said, “Go ahead.”

“I’m here to represent—”

“Damn it. Giles lied to me, the bastard.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Men,” she rubbed her temples as a headache surged in, “are so goddamn puzzling.”

“Right, well.” The stranger’s eyes 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 her 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 extended her hand, expecting him to serve her with papers. He gave her hand a firm shake.

“I’m 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 didn’t have a date?

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

Whew. Not a lawyer after all. “I don’t talk to the press,” she chirped as 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.

Again.

“I only need a minute.”

Allie sighed and tried to ignore how cute and desperate he looked. “Fine. One minute.” She released the door and reached for her insulated trench coat. If Giles wasn’t suing her, what could be important enough to send a lackey? She let out a laugh as a thought struck her. “What are you going to do, Mr. Chalmers? Hand me a tattered break-up note like we’re revisiting junior high?”

Although experiences like that are always rather boyfriend-dependent, leaving her lacking in experience.

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

“Talk about Giles. Right. Can we hurry this up? 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 brew.

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. “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.

“I’m uh, taken. Sorry.”

“So? I’m newly single and accepting an award in thirty-two minutes. I 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,” Allie muttered and buttoned her coat. 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.

“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. “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.

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Copyright Jean Oram 2008. Please contact Jean before any copying or distributing. Thanks!