My Nerdy Valentine (Nerds, #7)(7)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"Which one is that?" He didn’t think it was his, or he’d have seen her on it before.

"Fifty-nine."

"Then we’re headed in different directions, but we can still walk out together." "Yes, we can do that."

She turned off the lights and locked the door behind her. Then she slung her backpack over one shoulder and started toward the stairway.

"So you’re a bartender."

"It pays well for the hours invested."

"Did you go to bartending school?"

As she walked down the stairs, she shifted the weight of her backpack, which looked heavy. "I did. I’d waitressed ever since high school, didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Bartending was a skill I could add to my repertoire. When I started school, it made for a good combination, classes during the day, bartending at Geekland by night."

"Sounds like it." He didn’t call attention to the fact that she’d just told him where she worked. It was a slip on her part, one he wouldn’t take advantage of. She didn’t want him in her life, so he wouldn’t push.

Interesting spot for her to work, though. The place was a joke with the cool crowd, but according to an article in the Trib, Geekland was wildly popular with its target audience. He’d never been there, because a person had to be a confirmed nerd and proud of it in order to set foot inside. William knew he had some of those tendencies, but he rejected the label.

Amanda had some of those tendencies, too, but he didn’t think that was why she’d taken the job. She didn’t want to date, and a bartender as cute as Amanda would get asked out by the clientele. If she surrounded herself with geeks, she wouldn’t be tempted to say yes.

"Have you always wanted to be a stockbroker?" she asked.

"No." They reached the small lobby and headed toward the revolving doors that led out to the street. "I wanted to be a fireman, and then I wanted to be a trucker or a pro football player. Couldn’t decide which."

"That’s a long way from stockbroker."

"Oh, I don’t know. I protect people’s future, which is kind of like a fireman, and I’m involved in the economy, which is part of a trucker’s job."

"And how about pro football?"

"I’m in there dodging and weaving, hoping to score for my clients. I just don’t get to wear the shoulder pads and the tight pants."

She laughed at that, which gratified him. He might have no chance with her, but at least they could be pleasant to each other when they met in the hall. He let her go ahead of him out the door. It looked dark out there, and very cold.

Bracing himself for the pain that would hit his unprotected ears, he pushed through the door and joined her on the sidewalk. Yikes. The wind had a bite like a Doberman.

She pulled up her hood and glanced at him. "You’re not wearing your hat."

"Uh, no, I’m not." So she had noticed the hat the first time they’d met.

"Did you forget it?"

"It’s in my briefcase."

She gazed at him, as if trying to figure out what was going on. The whoosh of air brakes on the bus half a block away made her turn. "Whoops, there’s my bus! See you later!" She turned and ran for the bus, her backpack banging against her shoulder. Her hood fell back and her hair gleamed in the light from the street lamps.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight or anything dumb like that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they could have had something good together. Unfortunately, making that happen would have taken some cooperation on her part. She hadn’t been particularly cooperative.

As her bus went by, he glanced up, figuring she’d already put him out of her mind. Instead he saw her face in the window, and she was looking down at him. She gave him a wave.

He waved back. It would be risky to assign any special significance to that gesture of hers. He shouldn’t get his hopes up because she’d taken the time and effort to locate him on the sidewalk and wave. But he was a stockbroker, and any stockbroker worth his salt took risks now and then. He let his hopes rise, just a little bit.

Amanda lived on the ground floor of her apartment building, and when she was running late like this, she was grateful that she didn’t have stairs to climb. Her only obstacle was Mavis Endicott, the retired schoolteacher who lived next door. With thinning red hair she colored herself and a plump figure that showed off her love of bakery items, Mavis was a cheerful person to have around.

Amanda wished she had more time to spend getting to know her neighbors. Under different circumstances, she’d be thrilled to chat with Mavis, who must have been a dyn**ite teacher in her day. But Amanda had been forced to cut their conversations short. That didn’t seem to deter Mavis, who always left her door open a crack at five-thirty so she could hear Amanda coming home.

On her way down the hall tonight, Amanda noticed that everyone on her floor had decorated their apartment door for Valentine’s Day with the exception of Amanda and her neighbor on the other side, Chester Ambrose. Mavis must have been at work organizing the troops. She treated this floor as if they were all back in third grade and holiday decorations were mandatory.

Amanda always tried to participate. Mavis had managed to bring a sense of community to the first floor of the apartment complex, and in an urban setting that was an accomplishment. But Amanda had forgotten all about Valentine’s Day, and even if she’d remembered, she didn’t have the time to paste doilies on her door.

As for Chester, a balding guy in his sixties who liked to dress in luau shirts, he always resisted on principle. He claimed the decorations were a waste of time and money. Because he was also retired, money might be part of the problem, but it was more likely that Chester didn’t appreciate being herded into any group activity. Chester had been a bachelor all his life, and he marched to his own drummer.

Mavis’s door opened as Amanda put her key in the lock. "Amanda, there you are!"

"I’m running late, Mavis." The lock was temperamental and she had to wiggle the key to get the door open, which gave Mavis time to bustle over with a plastic bag from Hallmark in one hand.

"I bought you a few Valentine’s Day decorations," she said. "I know you don’t have time to shop."

"Thanks, but I don’t have time to put them up, either." As Amanda walked into her apartment, she thought she heard Chester’s door open. She hoped not. Because she’d taken a later bus than usual, she didn’t have time to deal with one of Mavis and Chester’s confrontations.

Mavis followed right on her heels. "Then I’ll put them up for you. All I need is your permission. I found some adorable cupids, and—"

"Mavis, are you at it again?" Chester walked in behind Mavis. "I thought I heard you over here pestering this poor girl."

"I’m not pestering her. I’m helping her with Valentine’s Day decorations."

"Which I appreciate." Amanda put down her backpack and took off her coat. "Except right now, I have to—"

"Amanda, don’t let her put a damned thing on your door if you don’t want her to. This is a free country."

Mavis spun toward him. "It’s a glorious country, Chester, where people are allowed to celebrate all these wonderful holidays! Do you realize how lucky you are that no one is forbidding you to celebrate?"

"No, I don’t, because I’m too busy dealing with a meddling woman who is forcing me to celebrate!"

"Would it kill you to put up a couple of construction-paper hearts, Chester?" Mavis glared at him through her trifocals.

"Everybody else on this floor thinks it’s a great idea, and it makes the place look cheery. You’re getting a reputation as a regular Grinch."

"Good! I like that reputation just fine."

"Guys," Amanda said, "I hate to interrupt, but you’ll both have to go home. I have to change clothes and leave for work."

"Don’t mind us," Mavis said. Then she turned back to Chester. "Tell me this, Mr. Grinch. What are you going to do if you ever need help from one of your neighbors?"

Chester rolled his eyes. "I’ll worry about that when the time comes. In the meantime, I don’t have to spend my valuable time cutting out paper hearts!"

"Because you spend all your valuable time cutting out coupons. Don’t think I haven’t heard you asking people for their supplements to the Trib so you could cut the coupons out. It’s a wonder they give them to you, the way you are."

"Uh, guys … it probably would be better if you—"

"Go get ready for work," Chester said. "Or you’ll be late, and you need that job. As for you, Mavis Endicott, quit buying door decorations for people who don’t want them."

"It’s not that I don’t want them," Amanda said. "It’s just—"

"See?" Mavis said. "She wants them. Amanda, go get ready for work. You can’t afford to get fired."

Amanda finally realized they weren’t leaving, so she went into her bedroom, closed the door, and pulled her uniform out of the closet. The Geekland management had decided on short-sleeved plaid shirts, complete with pocket protector, and khaki pants. To complete the outfit, Amanda always loaded the pocket protector with pens.

Opening her dresser drawer, she took out her flask-shaped Barmaster, a battery-operated gizmo that fit in her hand and had hundreds of drink recipes stored on it, both the ones loaded at the factory and the Geekland creations she’d added to its memory. A lot of her customers owned one, and she’d finally invested in one, too, so she could keep up.

Grabbing a couple of small elastic bands, she put her hair up in two pigtails. Then she tucked the Barmaster and a pair of Geekland-issue glasses in her purse. The glasses had heavy black frames with clear lenses, and whenever she put them on, she seemed to transform into a nerd. It was the strangest thing. She was even better at operating the Barmaster.

While she was getting ready, she could hear Mavis and Chester bickering like an old married couple. She had to admit that having them around was more of a perk than a liability. Sure, they interfered with her schedule sometimes, but she liked that they both watched out for her and cared whether she kept her job and graduated from college.

And no matter how much they fought, she believed they cared about each other. Maybe her psych classes had made her too analytical, but she’d decided that Mavis and Chester relished their battles. Like tonight, for example. No doubt Chester had been lying in ambush for Mavis, knowing Mavis was lying in ambush for Amanda.

All in all, Amanda liked having Chester and Mavis for neighbors. Sometimes, when she was feeling especially lonely, she pretended they were her folks.

SIX

William’s cell rang while he was still on the bus heading home to his apartment. "Yo, it’s Justin." "Hey, Justin." William envied his friend, who’d met the right woman and was up to his neck in June wedding plans. Seven months ago William had expected to be in the same boat, until he found Helen in bed with an old flame that had somehow rekindled when William wasn’t looking.

"Listen, Will, can I come on over now?" Justin said. "I need to talk to you about something before the game starts."

"Wedding related?" William was the best man, so he was in on most of the plans. "Yeah, wedding related."

"Sure. Come on over. I’ll be home in ten minutes." Justin had a key to his apartment, and they never stood on ceremony. "If you get there first, order us a pizza. Beer’s in the fridge."

"Thanks, buddy. See you soon."

William looked forward to a night of beer, pizza, and basketball, something he and Justin hadn’t done in a while, not since Justin’s engagement to Cindi. She was a travel agent currently on a junket to Hawaii with a bunch of other travel agents. It was what they called a "familiarization trip" so she could handle her job better when clients asked about hotels over there.

While Cindi was soaking up the tropical sun, Justin had to put up with a drizzly cold day in Chicago. William decided to pull out the chocolate tits, after all. He might even show Justin the condoms and get his advice on dealing with Gloria.

Justin was already at the apartment when William arrived. He’d parked himself in front of the TV with a beer and was watching ESPN. He looked up when William walked in. "Hey."

"Hey." William could see Justin was in a foul mood. Normally the guy was a neat freak, but his blond hair was uncombed, his glasses were smudged, and his beige pullover sweater had a ketchup stain on the front. "So did you order the pizza?"

"Yeah." Justin hit the mute button on the remote.

"Wait till you see what a client gave me today." Will set his briefcase by the door and tossed the bag in Justin’s direction.

Justin caught it but didn’t open it. "Cindi broke our engagement."

"What?" William stopped unbuttoning his coat and stared at Justin.

"You heard me." Justin put the bag next to him on the couch. "She called from Hawaii today. It seems she had some sort of epiphany over there. She wants to live on the beach and take up surfing."

"Cindi? She’s uncoordinated as hell."

"She is not! It isn’t her fault that nobody in her family played sports. With some training, she could—" Justin paused. "Wait, why am I defending her? She just dumped me! And you’re right. She’ll be a disaster out on that surfboard. She’s a nerd, like me."

"You’re not a nerd." William maintained that he and Justin weren’t true nerds, and he didn’t want Justin backsliding. "You’re intelligent and you’re good at details, which is why you make a good chemist. But your clothes match … usually … and your social skills are fine."

"Oh, they’re peachy. That’s why my fiancée canceled the wedding. I’m not cool enough for her."

"That’s not why." William took off his coat and tossed it on a chair. "This is her problem, not yours. And not that I care, but how does she plan to put food on the table and a roof over her head?"

"She said something about making shell necklaces for the tourists." Justin stared morosely at the bottle of beer in his hand. "I think she found a surfer dude over there, somebody with muscles."