My Nerdy Valentine (Nerds, #7)(8)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"If she’s stupid enough to settle for that, angsting over her is pointless. She’s not worth it." William took off his tie and tossed it on top of his coat. "I’m getting a beer. Want another one?"

"Yeah. I’m liable to drink all you’ve got."

"Feel free, but I don’t think you should get wasted on Cindi’s account. Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t marry somebody so unbalanced."

"Oh, yeah, I feel lucky all right." Justin chugged the last of his beer.

In the kitchen, William grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and a bag of pretzels from the cupboard. Considering this turn of events, he wasn’t sure whether to show Justin the condoms and chocolate tits or not. Something like that could tip the scales either way—toward crazy laughter or suicidal despair. Better not take the chance.

But when he returned to the living room, the decision had been taken away from him. Justin was studying the directions for the condoms. "Amazing," he murmured.

"Pretty wild, huh?"

"No kidding." Justin glanced up. "I mean, logically, you’d be in dim light when you use them, so I’m not sure how you’d make them glow. Maybe you have to shine a flashlight on yourself for three seconds."

"Don’t know. Haven’t tested them."

"And you say you got these from a client!" William nodded. "She’s a sex therapist who has an office down the hall from Cooper and Scott." "You mean Dr. Gloria Tredway?" "You know her?"

"Nope. It’s that photographic memory thing. I saw her name on the door that time I came to see your setup."

"That’s her." He sat on the couch and set Justin’s beer on the coffee table. "She’s … different."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Gee, you think? I take it the glowing condoms and candy boobies clued you in."

"That, and the X-rated video she had playing on her office TV when I went in there this afternoon."

"No shit! How long has she been a client?"

William glanced at his watch. "About four and a half hours."

Justin let out a whoop. "Man, you stumbled on a hot one! What does she look like?"

"She’s okay. She’s a redhead, about five seven. Brown eyes."

"Built?"

"I guess."

"You guess? A woman who happens to be a sex therapist is sending you condoms and teasing you with skin flicks, and you aren’t sure whether or not she’s built? What’s wrong with you, buddy?"

William took a swig of his beer. "She’s not my type."

"She sounds like she’s everybody’s type! I mean, you’re not getting any these days. I’m not saying you should marry her. Hell, I’m beginning to think nobody should get married. Go for the sex and forget all the hearts-and-flowers crap."

"You may have a point." William had to admit that the hearts-and-flowers routine hadn’t worked out that well for him up to now.

"Of course I have a point." Justin grabbed his beer and drank deeply. "Look at me. I’m the poster boy for romantic schmucks who get the shaft. Did you know that next week is Valentine’s Day?"

"As it happens, I do know that."

"Well, so do I, as all engaged men are expected to know. I’ve made reservations at the Pump Room and ordered a dozen roses. The Godiva isn’t bought yet, but that’s only because I wanted it to be fresh. I was planning to handpick the kind of truffles Cindi likes. Oh, and I nearly forgot the diamond stud earrings I have sitting in a velvet box in my apartment."

"I’m sorry, man." William sighed. "Cindi’s an idiot."

"No, I’m the idiot, thinking I had something solid when a trip to Hawaii was all it took to turn her into a beach bunny. And you—" Justin pointed the neck of his bottle at William. "Your deal was almost as bad. You weren’t actually engaged, but damned close. Then bam! Helen turns on you. Poor slob, you didn’t see it coming."

"No, I didn’t." But looking back on that time, William realized he’d missed some important indications that Helen was losing interest. He’d been concentrating on his master’s dissertation and interviewing for jobs, so he hadn’t noticed that she’d stopped telling him she loved him, stopped writing him cute little notes, stopped initiating sex.

Justin might be guilty of the same complacence. Cindi could have been showing signs of restlessness that Justin chose to ignore. Now wouldn’t be the time to bring that up, because the guy already felt bad enough. But William thought it might be a danger in any relationship—thinking that it would rock along in the same rut forever.

"Women," Justin muttered. "You can’t count on them."

"Maybe not."

"From now on, I’m in it for the sex, and that’s all. Are you with me, Will?"

"Guess so." Now wasn’t the time to argue.

"Then let’s drink to it." Justin held up his beer bottle. "To mindless sex!"

"To mindless sex." William clinked his bottle against Justin’s and took a swallow of his beer.

"I have an awesome idea."

William could tell Justin was getting smashed, because when he was sober he would never use the word awesome. "What’s that?"

"Let’s watch the game and eat our pizza."

"Justin, that was always the plan." Poor guy, he was starting to babble.

"I know, but here’s the new wrinkle. After the game, let’s blow this joint and go somewhere." "Like?"

"That place I keep hearing about. It’s supposed to be a riot. What is it, again? Geekland! That’s it. Let’s go there."

William couldn’t believe his bad luck today. It hadn’t all been bad, though, because he’d made contact with Amanda. Still, she’d be convinced he was stalking her if he showed up at Geekland. "Are you sure you want to go there? I can think of a ton of other bars that would be way better."

"I can’t. Other bars are all the same. This one’s different. A guy at work loves the drinks there, and he said they serve great burgers and wings. The waiters and waitresses dress up like geeks, and the customers play trivia and stuff."

"But we’re not geeks. We won’t fit in."

Justin gazed at him. "Not to be insulting, but you’ll fit in just fine. Let’s go. It’s exactly what I need."

William weighed his loyalties. Sure, he’d promised Amanda he wouldn’t come to her place of work, but he’d known her only a few hours. Justin had been his best friend for years. They’d pulled each other through all-nighter study sessions and had pooled their money whenever they both ended up broke. Justin had been there for him when Helen had defected. William had to stand by his friend now. "Okay," he said. "Geekland it is."

Hey, Amanda, what’s the name of that guy who did the experiment with the dogs and ringing bells? It’s on the tip of my tongue." Amanda squirted seltzer water into the blue-green drink in her hand and glanced over at Leonard, a short, stocky nerd who was one of Geekland’s regulars. He sat at the clear acrylic bar that created a hundred-and-eighty-degree curve—Amanda’s domain. Behind her, arranged in colorful rows, were the bottled items she used to work her magic.

Most of the customers preferred sitting at the bar so they were closer to the trivia monitors. For the overflow, or those few who didn’t play trivia, there were clear acrylic tables and chrome chairs scattered throughout the room. Abstract neon sculptures on the walls gave off an otherworldly glow. As usual, the place was packed.

Amanda had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound system, which was belting out "Material Girl." "Pavlov!"

"Right. I knew that." Leonard punched a button on his remote keyboard. "Yes! Five hundred points!" He held both hands in the air and undulated in time to Madonna.

"Leonard, quit bugging Amanda while she’s making my drink." Bertrand, a long-haired premed student who always dressed in black, slapped money on the bar before walking over to Leonard and peering up at the television screen flashing the multiple-choice trivia questions. Then he leaned close to Leonard. "Number four. Occipital bone." "Thanks, man!"

"No fair!" A girl in an oversized Star Trek T-shirt glared at Leonard from her position two stools down. "You shouldn’t get points for that."

"Hey, it counts for Geekland, too, you know," Leonard said. "And being number three in the country is just not good enough."

"Damn straight!" called a guy on the far side of the wraparound bar. "Number one or bust!"

Several shouts of agreement went up from the customers concentrating intently on the TV screens mounted around the perimeter of the bar’s center island.

Tina, a thin waitress wearing the requisite plaid shirt and khakis, came toward Amanda. In Tina’s case, the black-framed glasses were prescription. "Can I have a Theory of Evolution?" She set her round tray on the bar. "I have a fan of layered drinks over at table three, so I recommended that."

"Coming up." Amanda pressed the touch screen on her computer before setting Bertrand’s drink on a cocktail napkin. Then she reached for the Baileys that formed the bottom level of the Evolution, another drink that had been invented at Geekland. She’d stayed busy all night, which had helped distract her from thoughts about William.

But whenever she did think about him, she pictured him standing in the cold Chicago wind without his hat as he gazed up at her bus. She would bet her night’s worth of tips that he’d left off the hat because of her. If he would do that, then surely he’d also sent the valentine.

If not him, then who? It could be somebody at Geekland, except she didn’t think anybody here knew about her day job. She supposed they could have taken the trouble to find out, though. And they were geeks, so they knew how to look things up.

Leonard seemed to have a crush on her, although he’d never asked her out. No one did anymore, unless they were new to Geekland. She’d spread the word early that she wasn’t dating. Leonard might be capable of sending a secret valentine, though.

Maybe she should test that theory and find out what he knew about her. After she poured the creme de menthe carefully over the bar spoon to finish off the Evolution, she handed it to Tina and turned back to Leonard. "So here’s a trivia question for you, Leonard. Where do I work?"

He laughed. "Here. At Geekland."

"I mean my other job."

Leonard shrugged. "I dunno. Isn’t it in some therapist’s office? What, are you suggesting I need therapy?" "No. I just—"

"Because I probably do, now that you mention it. I have an unhealthy fixation on this trivia game and I have no social life other than coming to this bar and hanging out with the likes of Bertrand. All those burgers and wings are putting on the weight, and I should exercise more. But as for knowing exactly where you work, I have to answer in the negative."

"Okay. Thanks." She was satisfied it wasn’t Leonard. He wouldn’t be able to lie that easily.

"Why did you want to know?"

"It’s not important. I—" She stopped speaking as she glanced over Leonard’s shoulder and saw a man who looked a lot like William come through the front door. But it couldn’t be William, unless this was some weird sort of coincidence. He didn’t know where she worked.

The man who looked like William had walked in with another guy who was about William’s height and build, only he was blond instead of dark-haired. She was probably seeing things, imagining William around every corner because of what had happened today. The valentine had her freaked out.

No, it was him, damn it! He didn’t even have the good grace to look surprised to see her as he started toward the bar. Maybe he’d called Gloria and asked where Amanda worked. That explained his being here, except that she’d distinctly told him not to come. Fat lot of good that had done.

"Hi, Amanda." He leaned on the bar.

"Hello, William." She kept her tone neutral and didn’t smile, not even a little bit. She wanted him to know he wasn’t welcome.

"Cute outfit."

"Thanks."

"Amanda!" called a guy on the far side of the bar. "Can you make me a Monkey Gland?"

Happy for the distraction, she grabbed her Barmaster to double-check the ingredients. Her customers loved to see if they could stump her, but it didn’t happen often anymore.

"I’m sure you’re not happy to see me here," William said.

"Not particularly." She measured the gin and the orange juice into the cocktail shaker before reaching for the grenadine. Although she concentrated on making the drink, she couldn’t eliminate that edgy awareness of William.

He’d changed clothes. Instead of the suit and tie, he was wearing jeans and a gray, crew-necked sweater topped with a brown bomber jacket. The more casual clothes reduced his nerd factor, especially since he’d come in hatless. But his ears were pink, as if the wind had done a number on them.

He looked worried. Obviously he knew he was treading on thin ice. "Amanda, I’d like you to meet my buddy, Justin Haskell. Justin, this is Amanda Rykowsky. We work in the same building."

"Hi, Justin." She paused long enough to glance up at William’s friend, but once again she resisted the urge to smile, although Justin seemed like a nice enough guy. Maybe William had brought him along so that she wouldn’t land into him about disregarding her wishes.

Justin gave her the sort of loopy grin that signaled he’d already had a few too many drinks tonight. "Nice to meet you, Amanda. On the way over Will told me you’re the bartender here. Must be a fun place to work."

"It is. But I’m curious how he knew that I was here." So William’s friend called him Will. The nickname seemed to go with the casual clothes. "I don’t recall mentioning it to him."

"Actually, you did," William said. "I don’t think you even realized you said the name of the place. And it’s pure coincidence we’re here."

"I’m sure." She glared at him. "Pure coincidence. But now that you are here, are you planning to order, or are you just hanging out?"

"I want one of the specialty drinks," Justin said. "This guy Tom from work is always talking about something called the Chi-Town thingamajig. He claims to have invented it."