Lauren grits her teeth. “I hate when she does that.”
Me too. I jog out to my car and bring up laundry places on my navigation system. When I pull up to the closest laundromat, I see what Lauren was talking about. The place looks like it would be an ideal place to commit a murder. Staying in the confines of my car, I can barely see into the dingy windows but enough to count two bulbs hanging from the ceiling—the only lights in the place. There’s a homeless guy asleep in the doorway. Yeah, I’m going to assume she went to the second place.
I search my navigation for another laundromat nearby. When I pull up to Duds ’n’ Suds, I see the entire place is lit up—and with real light fixtures. I park down the street and jog up to the door, but when I pull on the handle, it’s locked. I check mywatch: eight fifteen. I lean in and peer into the window. There’s no one in the place, but one dryer is still spinning.
“Where are you, MacKenzie?”
The next closest laundry place is in South Austin, a neighborhood just west of MacKenzie’s. Their website says they’re open until 10:00 p.m. Jumping back into my car, I do a U-turn and head west. I don’t have any music playing, which gives me time to think about things like my life and the recent changes in it. I realize that two weeks ago, I’d have spent the evening home, watching television, relaxing. But now I’m chasing a damsel in distress. Hell, maybe I’m the only one who thinks she’s in distress. Maybe she’s fine and I’m blowing this all out of proportion. Since security is my business, I have a tendency to always think worst-case scenario.
Parked outside of the Café Laundromat. I walk up to the door and pull it open. The place is cool as hell. It’s a combination coffee shop, restaurant, and laundry. A clever business idea, for sure. I let my eyes scan the room, looking for my cute redhead. Spotting her, I smile. She’s in a booth with a cup of coffee and a book. Her laundry is neatly folded in the basket. It’s obvious she’s finished doing her laundry, and I suspect she’s still here because she’s avoiding me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say casually as I approach the booth.
Startled, she bumps her coffee cup. It’s almost empty, but some spills causing her to scramble to catch the spill. Without looking up, she says, “Sam. What are you doing here?”
“I was worried. I—” I stop short when a hipster dude sits down across from MacKenzie. He nods his ugly, bearded head and smiles with his smug face. He has stupid glasses, too.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” His eyes scan me from head to toe.
“I’m talking to mygirlfriend. Would you excuse us?” I put a lot of emphasis on girlfriend.
“Sure, no problem, man. I’ll see ya, Mac,” says the hipster dude as he slides out of the booth.
She smiles sweetly at the guy. “Bye, Joe. See you around?”
“Sure thing. I’ll send you that invite.”
“He calls youMac? What invite? Who is that guy?” I point at the guy’s back as he leaves.
“Sam, he’s just a friend. I see him here all the time. He’s an artist too and he’s got a boyfriend. So, whatever this is you’re doing is unnecessary.”
She rolls her eyes at me. Ordinarily I think that’s cute, but not right now. No, right now I’m jealous. “You’re rolling your eyes at me, babe?”
“I am,” she snaps. “You get the eye roll when you act like a buffoon. Calm down and have a seat. Do you want some coffee?”
A buffoon?“Tea. I’d like hot tea.”
“Never had you pegged as a tea man.” She walks over to the coffee bar.
She returns with a steaming cup of green tea. I hate green tea. But I’ll drink it and I won’t complain. I need to extend an olive branch, so I smile at her and clear my throat. “Look. I’m sorry about what I said at your place. All I meant was?—”
“Sam, please stop.”
“No, I need to say it.”
She sighs and nods.
“I’ve never really been in a long-term relationship, and…”
Another eye roll?Really? “Anyway,” I grumble. “I always seemed to date the same woman. One who’s obsessively worried she’ll gain a pound if she eats.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” she says, gathering up her clothes.
“Just hear me out.” I need to talk fast. “Whenever I’ve taken a woman to dinner in the past, they all ordered a tiny salad and then they’d just pick at it. It was annoying. I mean, why bothergoing to dinner if they aren’t going to eat?” I shrug. “So, when I saw you eat, actually eat like you enjoyed it, it made me happy.” I swallow and continue. “I love food. I love eating, and I want my girlfriend to enjoy it, too. Chicago is filled with amazing places. All I meant was that it was refreshing to see a beautiful woman eat normally.”
“Like a dude,” she grumbles again.
“No, that’s not what I meant and that was a stupid thing to say. I love your body, baby. I love that it was created with comfort food. I want to get fat right along with you.”
