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  “This is what I'm talking about. What’s romantic about getting proposed to in a restaurant with dozens of strangers watching right after you ate the salmon? I guarantee he thinks this is some grand romantic gesture because that’s what Hallmark told him. But it’s not. It might even be worse than proposing to a girl at a sporting event. Get real, dude, and come up with a more inventive way to ask your girl to marry you.”

  “What do you know about romance, Ash? You are a love ‘em and leave ‘em girl,” I say. My sister loves hard and fast, and it flames out just as quickly. She’s had more boyfriends in the last year than I’ve had in my entire thirty-three years.

  “Says the spinster,” Ashley snarks back.

  “I’m not a spinster.”

  “When was your last date?”

  “Eight months ago,” I mumble.

  “I’m sorry, come again?”

  “Eight months ago.”

  “And, your last boyfriend?”

  “Fourteen months ago. But that doesn't make me a spinster. I’m selective. I don't want to just date random guys — I want to feel a connection.”

  “So, what do you want then?”

  “I don’t know. Someone who makes me laugh, who supports me with my dreams.”

  “And, what does he look like?”

  “Looks aren't everything.”

  “They aren't, but you have to be physically attracted to him, nonetheless.”

  “I don’t think what he looks like is important, though. He should be kind, and have a job, and love me.”

  “So really, he could be anyone.”

  I shrug. “When it’s right, you just know. And, I’ll know when it’s right.”

  “Okay, but while you wait for him to show up, maybe you could just get laid. You work too much, Serena, and you never go anywhere to meet people, so how is Mr. Right going to find you? Besides, Mr. Right Now could end up being Mr. Right if you went out and met him.”

  “I have the online dating profile you insisted I make.”

  “And, how many dates have you been on?”

  “None.”

  “Let’s make a deal then. You go out on one date in the next week with someone from the dating site, and I will not bug you for a week about meeting someone.”

  “I don't know...”

  “I know you are my big sister, but seriously, Serena, if you don’t put yourself out there, you won’t ever meet the one. If you’re not at work, you have your nose in a book. If you don’t have your nose in a book, you’re trying to turn nine-year-olds into astrophysicists. And while that is perfectly admirable, it’s all you do: work. You gotta get out and enjoy life for yourself.”

  A sigh escapes me. I knows she’s right, even though I don’t want to admit it aloud. “I will try to find one decent guy to go out on a date with this week, okay?”

  “Okay. Now, do you see this?” she points subtly at a couple who is being seated nearby. She is carrying a single red rose and looking at her date with what can only be described as heart eyes.

  “A red rose on Valentine’s day. Does it get any more generic than that?” Ashley continues. “If a guy ever shows up for a date with me with a single red rose, I swear I’ll swat him in the face with it. The least he could do is find out her favorite flower and bring her that.”

  “What if her favorite flower is a rose?” I ask her.

  “No one’s favorite flower is a rose.”

  I tune out while Ashley continues her rant about flowers. As I look around at the other couples, I realize that despite the corniness of it, I want what these women have. Perhaps not the stereotypically Valentine’s Day gifts, I’d appreciate something a bit more imaginative — but the companionship, I realize, I crave. I'm lonely and I want someone to share my life with.

  Chapter 5

  Cade

  For someone who won the Super Bowl three weeks ago, you wouldn’t know if you saw me. I’ve been in what I can only describe as a funk since that night, probably even before. I have become the living embodiment of a moody, sullen teenager, and I’m thirty-eight years old. It’s ridiculous.

  Across the room, my phone buzzes with an incoming text message. I glance at the screen, and my already sour face turns further.

  Where are you?????

  Even in a text message I can hear Josephine’s shrillness, and I shudder at the thought. I was supposed to meet her for lunch and didn’t bother to text or call her to let her know I wasn’t coming. She’s been blowing up my phone for hours, and I’ve been ignoring it for just as long.

  I am no longer sure what I ever saw in her. Sure, she’s hot, and the sex has always been great, but our relationship has no substance. It’s a relationship of convenience these days. I need a woman like her when I show up to events, she needs a man like me to parade around at her movie premieres. Our relationship has had more ups and downs than a rollercoaster, and I need more than that.

  Before I can stop and think about it, I grab my phone and call Josephine. She answers on the second ring.

  “Where are you?” she demands. “Do you know how humiliating it was sitting by myself at Chateau Marmont? Where the fuck were you? You better have a damn good reason to stand me up. I’m Josephine Lowell, and no one stands me up, not even you Cade Thomas. You owe me big time, Cade. Jewelry big.”

  “Josephine, for once in your life, shut up.”

  “How dare you!” she gasps.

  “I’ll tell you how I dare. We're done, Josephine.”

  “Cade, don't be silly.” Her tone instantly changes, and she’s purring through the phone. “I’m sure you had a good reason. You can make it up to me anyway you like. I’m wearing those purple panties you like so much.”

  “Do you want to know what I was doing today? I was in bed listening to Adele. I haven’t left my house in three days. I don’t have any interest in you or your Hollywood lifestyle. I want something real, Josephine, and you will never be real.”

  “I am real, Cade. For the last two years, I’ve been me.”

  I laugh. “That doe-eyed innocent act you play on screen isn’t you, no matter how hard you try to convince the public otherwise.”

  “Fuck you, Cade.”

  “It’s been... Well, it’s been something, Jo, but this isn’t it for me anymore.”

  Now she laughs, and the bitterness turns my stomach. “You’ll be back, Cade. You’ll come crawling, begging me to take you back. But it will be too late. I’m the best thing that will ever happen to you, and you will regret this.”

  She hangs up before I can say anything else but it doesn't matter. A weight feels likes it has been lifted from my shoulders, and I head to the bathroom to shower. When I feel like I’ve washed away the crustiness of spending the last three days in bed, I get out, wrapping a towel around my hips and dripping water on the floor into my bedroom. I dress quickly, shake my hair, and grab my car keys. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I need to get out of my house.

  I drive to Manhattan Beach and walk the beach for a while, lost in my thoughts. I’ve been thinking about retiring from football; I’ve played seventeen seasons, and I’m pushing forty. I’ve had a great career, one that might not ever be matched, but I’ve also had injuries over the last few seasons. I played most of this season with a torn labrum in my shoulder. I need to have surgery on it.

  Truth is, I have no idea what my next move should be, but I know the feeling in my gut is telling me to embark on something new. It's not like I have to do anything — I’ve made more than enough money to live on the rest of my life, but I’m pretty sure I’d go stir crazy without some sort of backup career.

  I thought the salt air might help clear my head, but I decide I need a drink instead and head back to my car. I recall a friend of a friend mentioning a place nearby called Zinc. If memory serves me right, they are supposed to have great craft beer and a hot bartender, so I head over.

  Immediately upon entering the lounge, I hear the murmurs and feel the looks. I don't mind being recogniz
ed, and for the most part, people are respectful. I’ve never been accosted while trying to take a piss, which is great. I smile and wave. I’m stopped for selfies with a group of women who appear to be out for a ladies’ night, and then sign autographs for a couple who are from the Midwest and in town as a belated honeymoon.

  When I finally reach the bar, I look over the menu and decide on a craft beer they have on special. The bartender has just set it in front of me when the door opens and a woman enters. I can’t help but do a double take.

  There is something simple, but classy about the jeans she wears, cuffed at her ankle with nude pumps, a simple blouse, not too fitted but not too loose, and a blazer. She adjusts the tortoiseshell cat eye-shaped glasses on her face and with a quick, appraising sweep of the room, she heads for the bar and takes the only empty seat — beside me. I offer a quick, polite smile as she sits down. The bartender takes her order and while she waits for her drink, she pulls her phone out.

  I watch her surreptitiously as her eyes remain locked with the screen of her phone. Her hair is the same color as my dark beer and falls to her shoulders, full and looking soft to the touch. She’s beautiful, not a bombshell like Josephine, but she looks like the picture-perfect girl next door, the kind of woman Josephine has worked so hard to seem like, but no one actually buys into.

  Classy girl also paid me no mind at all when she sat down. I admit, it puzzled me. In this town, everyone knows who I am. I gather she must be playing it cool, waiting for me to make a move. And who am I not to oblige?

  “Hi, I’m Cade,” I smile, turning toward her.

  She looks up, startled at my voice. I hold my hand out.

  When she looks up at me, I notice right away that her eyes are the color of forget me nots, my mom’s favorite flower, and that there is no moment of dawning recognition. She has no clue who I am. “Hello, I’m Serena,” she answers after a beat, politely shaking my hand before returning to her phone.

  I decide to press on, see if she really doesn't know who I am, or if she’s just that good.

  “Nice day, huh?”

  “Oh, um, yes, yes, it’s a nice day,” she replies.

  “How about those Condors? That was some win the other week. Everyone’s still talking about it.”

  “Condors? That’s the basketball team?”

  I chuckle. “No, it's the football team. They just won the Super Bowl.”

  She nods. “Right. Football.”

  I decided to mess with her. See if she really was as clueless about sports as she was leading me to believe. “Yep, football. The sport with the homeruns. The team that scores the most wins the Super Bowl. It’s just a big home run derby, you know?”

  “Really? They just see who can score the most homeruns? Hmph. For how long?”

  “A couple hours. They have four quarters, and you score a point for every homerun, and then there are bonus points for hitting certain targets on the field, too.”

  “That seems like a lot of time for something so simple.”

  “Everyone really only watches for the commercials, anyway.”

  “Like the ones with the horses? Those are always so sweet,” she purred.

  “Yep, exactly like that,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. She was adorable.

  Chapter 6

  Serena

  The man sitting beside me is an Adonis. There’s just no other way to put it.

  The way his sandy blond hair flows in loose waves that are longer on the top than the sides has my fingers itching to run through the strands. His eyes are brown like rich soil and something about them makes me want to get lost in them for hours. He’s not dressed up, just casual in a pair of faded jeans and a snug white t-shirt, but he looks like a walking, talking fantasy. He is charming and gorgeous...and I have no idea why a guy this good looking would strike up a conversation with me of all people, but I won’t turn it down.

  This normally would not be a place I’d be in, but I promised Ashley I’d go on at least one date this week. I matched with a cute enough guy earlier in the week, and he suggested we meet here for dinner and drinks. He’s late, and it’s a definite strike against him. I like punctuality, especially when making a first impression. Meantime, my bar companion isn’t a bad way to pass the time.

  “What do you do, Serena?” Cade asks me. I look up at him, surprised to find myself so taken by his smile. He seems to genuinely want to know more so, I oblige.

  “Well, I’m an astrophysicist.”

  “Like Raj on The Big Bang Theory?”

  “Yes,” I laugh. “Like Raj...or Neil deGrasse Tyson.”

  “Oh, I know who he is. I watched that special he did about the cosmos. So, you must be pretty smart, then.”

  I blush. “I have my doctorate,” I admit shyly.

  “Wow. I just studied business in college. Not much science. What are you working on right now?”

  “I’m part of a research team looking through data to find planets outside of our solar system.”

  “Is that what you do every day?” he asks.

  “Oh no, I teach also, at USC, but what I really want to do is bring science to everyone, you know, make it fun and exciting and easy to understand for a younger generation, get them excited about science, too.”

  “That’s really cool, Serena.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I buy you drink?” he smiles and nods to my glass.

  I look down at my now empty drink and back over to Cade. I’m enjoying myself and I haven’t enjoyed myself in a long time. “Sure. Thank you,” I smile. He catches the bartender's attention and orders a second round for the both of us. As she sets fresh drinks in front of us, Cade lifts his toward me, and we clink our glasses together.

  “Hey, did you hear the moon is going broke?” I ask him. He looks at me, puzzled. “Yeah, it’s down to its last quarter.” There is a pause before Cade starts to laugh, and I can't help but laugh along with him.

  “You’re like the sexy version of Neil deGrasse Tyson, complete with bad jokes,” he teases me, his eyes sparkling.

  “I don’t know about sexy.”

  He looks me up and down, and I feel my skin heat up and my pulse quicken. “Trust me, you’re sexy.”

  No man who looks like Cade has ever made such an obvious pass at me. I am thrilled, but I still blush.

  “Now, I know that can't be the first time a man has told you that,” he chuckles.

  “It is,” I admit. “Certainly after telling a lame science joke.”

  “That’s what tipped you over the scales, though,” he added with a wink.

  I laugh along with him and find myself surprised not only by how easy it is to talk to Cade, but also by his actual interest in what I do.

  “What about the physics of football? Do you know about that?”

  I shake my head. “It isn’t something I’ve studied, to be honest.”

  “You should,” he encourages. “People love football. Maybe it’s a way you can connect with kids. I know the kids I’ve met love sports. Combining something they love with something you want them to love might be cool to them.”

  “That’s a good suggestion I hadn't thought of. I’m teaching a course this semester regarding the physics in movies, and it does appeal to a certain segment of young people. Sports could probably do the same for a different cut of the pie, so to speak.”

  “That sounds interesting, physics in the movies.”

  “It’s fun. We talk about force, acceleration, momentum, Newton’s Law... I mean, a lot of the time, Hollywood takes liberties, especially in action movies, but sometimes they get it right.” He nods as I’m talking, and I realize I haven’t even asked him what he does. I’m embarrassed to have been rude, but truthfully, his smile was distracting, and I wanted to see more of it.

  “What about you, Cade? What do you do?” I ask as I sip from my drink.

  “Truth be told, I think I’m in the midst of a midlife crisis. I don’t know what I’m doing at the moment, an
d I don’t know what I want out of life next.”

  “Are you in business for yourself? You mentioned going to school for business.”

  “No, I work for a, uh, corporation,” he replied. “Big business, I guess you could say. I’m just not sure it makes me happy anymore.”

  “I understand. I’m happier being able to teach the physics in movies course this year, but I’m still not satisfied. Being able to reach the younger minds is where I want to be. Are you married, kids?”

  “No, no, no, not married. No kids. No girlfriend, either.”

  “Siblings?” I ask.

  “Only child.”

  “I have a sister, Ashley.”

  “I bet you’re the older sister,” he remarks.

  “You would be right.” I glance at my watch and frown. My “date” is now thirty minutes late.

  “Someplace else you need to be?” Cade asks.

  I sigh. “No. I promised my sister I would make at least one date this week from this dating site she signed me up for, and, of course, he’s late.”

  “That’s disrespectful to show up late. He doesn't deserve a date with you. Let me take you to dinner instead. Anywhere you want.”

  I am surprised at how strongly he says that my so-called date has been disrespectful, and flattered that he wants to take me to dinner. I consider it for all of three seconds.

  “Anywhere I want?”

  “Anywhere you want.”

  I grab a cocktail napkin from the bar and a pen from my purse, writing down an address and sliding it to him. I pick up my drink and finish it before hopping up. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter 7

  Cade

  Serena is walking toward the door before my mind catches up and processes that she has agreed to have dinner with me. When she reaches the door, she looks over her shoulder at me, smiles, and I scramble to my feet, throwing bills on the bar, snatching up the napkin with the address, and making my way out after her.

  I love that Serena has no idea who I am. And damn, it was cute how she believed me when I told her the Super Bowl is decided by who hits the most homeruns. I appreciate that she has a career and a goal for her life. Wanting to reach kids and get them as excited about science as she obviously is, that’s admirable, and I find myself wishing I knew a way to help her.