Once and for All(47)

“Well, I wasn’t there,” he replied as the line moved up a bit more, “but if I was a betting man, I’d say he had no idea you didn’t have a good time.”

“I think it was pretty obvious.”

“Maybe to you. But some people—guys in particular—are oblivious. It’s what makes dating so easy when you aren’t that way. It’s like having a secret power.”

From behind me, I now heard Phone Lady talking, saying something about steep vet bills and highway robbery. “And that’s you,” I surmised. “Superman.”

“No,” he said, tossing that curl out of his face. “But the bottom line is, all anyone really wants from another person is their attention. It’s so easy to give and counts for so much. It’s stupid not to do it.”

Hearing this, I thought of all the times I’d seen Ambrose leaning into a girl while she talked, his interest rapt and evident. Starting with that very first night in the parking lot of the club when he was AWOL for his mom’s wedding, all the way up to . . . well, moments earlier, when he’d made Emily, one of the stationery store owners, blush when he complimented her dress. Would I have felt differently the night before if between word games Tyler had focused entirely on me? I couldn’t say. But it wouldn’t have hurt.

“I think I’m going to win this bet,” I announced as we moved up in line. “If you give attention to every female you meet, there’s no way you’ll be able to keep a girlfriend.”

“There’s nothing wrong with attention,” he said easily. “I just can’t openly flirt. Luckily, I know the difference.”

I turned, facing him. “Does this mean you’ve already met someone with possible life-partner potential?”

I was pretty sure he winced at this last part, but he recovered quickly. “First of all, my life is not seven weeks. Or at least I hope it isn’t. Second, finding one person to be with for that time isn’t as easy as a dinner date. It takes time and focus.”

“Or,” I countered, “you could just take the first girl you would have that one perfect first night with and see if she can go the distance.”

“True,” he replied. “But the only girl I met last night was a total train wreck. I basically had to dodge out the back door of a club and take off on foot. Long story.”

“Was this before or after you gave her your full attention?”

He ignored this, instead moving up to the register, where we’d finally arrived. The Lumberjack was behind the counter, in red-and-white plaid this time. “Long time, no see,” he said, giving me a nod. “Where’ve you been?”

“She’s dating everyone,” Ambrose told him. “It keeps a girl busy.”

I blushed instantly, then cleared my throat. “I have someone else to do the coffee run now,” I said, nodding at Ambrose. “Except on special occasions.”

“Special,” he repeated, giving me a grin. “Sounds complicated. Hit me.”

“Okay,” I said, then read it out to him: my mom and William’s regulars—I was getting her the extra shot she requested, as she was clearly tired—plus two very complicated whip-free and sugar-substitute drinks for the Lins. “Plus four waters, no ice, extra lemon.”

“Child’s play,” he told me as he turned to the espresso machine, banging cups and pouring milk. “I thought you said this was hard.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, next time I’ll be sure to be more challenging.”

He looked back at me, smiling again. “You do that.”

I laughed, then reached into my pocket for the petty cash I’d grabbed for the order. Once I pulled it out, I realized Ambrose was looking at me, one eyebrow raised. “What?” I said.

“Who’s giving full attention now?” he asked, just as the steam starting hissing.

“I’m placing an order,” I told him.

“If that’s what we’re calling it,” he replied.

“I believe we were talking about you,” I said. “As in, you need to get cracking. Seven weeks is ticking past and you don’t want to get disqualified. You better find a lifer, stat.”

“It’s been one day,” he said in a flat voice. “You just worry about yourself.”

“I’m not worried. I have Jilly. She’s been wanting me to date for months. She can’t wait to set me up.”

“Oh, right. And her taste is impeccable. Jughead and Anagram. Sounds like a cop show.”

Lumberjack came back to the counter, sliding four waters across to me. As I grabbed a drink carrier and started loading it, he said, “Sorry to eavesdrop, but it’s an occupational hazard. Did I hear you guys betting on dates?”

“It was her idea,” Ambrose told him. “And I’m very competitive.”

“Shut up.” I felt myself blush again. To Lumberjack I said, “It’s just a stupid thing. I need to date more and him less. We’re seeing if we can do it.”

“I can totally do it,” Ambrose added. “Her, I’m not so sure.”

“Date more?” the Lumberjack said to me, ignoring this. “I can’t imagine you’d have a lack of offers.”

Now I was definitely blushing. Why had I come for coffees? Even an idiot could read off a list. I said, “Well . . . it’s complicated. I guess.”