It Had to Be You Georgia Clark (bookstand for reading txt) 📖

Darlene sat bolt upright. She knew he didn’t mean an academic. “Oh. Well, we’re not actually dating.” Which sounded like they were just hooking up. “We’re not anything. Don’t worry, Dad. I gotta go. Talk to you soon.” She hung up, certain she’d played that all wrong, feeling disappointed, annoyed, and guilty over her father’s response.

To calm herself down, Darlene treated herself to a large decaf iced coffee, and the arts section of the paper. Then she popped into Books Are Magic, the independent bookstore on Smith Street. Browsing the airy, prettily arranged store relaxed her further. Charles had recommended some new titles in his Q and A. She’d just found one, Capitalism vs. Marxism, and was skimming the back cover, when her phone vibrated.

Zach.

So strange the way her feelings had roller-coastered over this boy. A year ago she’d be wary, ready for him to offer an excuse or let her down. Three months ago, his name would elicit the same panicked thrill as a bungee jump. Right now, it was a mix of both. She didn’t know if she could trust his affections, or hers, or if their fake relationship was in any way real. If they were truly compatible, if a relationship would survive their respective families, if she even wanted that. But she couldn’t deny the way her heart picked up when hearing his name and picturing his face. He wasn’t perfect. But he was hers. According to the contract, she reminded herself briskly.

“Hi, Zach.”

“Hey! Hi.” He sounded flustered. “Wasn’t sure if you were going to pick up.”

She pictured him running a hand through his hair, dressed in a soft white button-down in need of an iron. It’d been days since she’d heard his voice. The accent was still cute. “What’s up?”

“Look, I’m sorry about the dinner with Charles.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I thought Charles was being a little unkind.”

“Yeah, he’s a poncey prick,” Zach muttered. “But I’m sorry if I did anything to make you not reply to any of my texts…?”

“Your texts weren’t about work. They were Monty Python GIFs.” Which truthfully had made her laugh. “Just trying to keep it professional.”

“Right. Professional.”

She couldn’t tell if he thought this was funny or infuriating.

“Can I take you out for dinner?”

“Well, I’ll see you Friday,” she replied, a bit surprised by the request. “You’re still driving us to the Hamptons for your sister’s rehearsal dinner, right?”

“Yes, but could we have dinner first? Tonight? Me in a suit jacket, you in a dress. There’s something I want to talk to—tell you—about.”

He sounded nervous. No, excited. He wasn’t going to say something was he? As in, about them? Darlene’s chest fluttered hard. She meandered toward the back of the bookstore. “We can have dinner.”

“Brilliant. Excellent, fantastic, great. Do you want to meet at—”

“Charles!”

“Charles’s… event? God no, that would be dystopic for me.”

“No, Charles is here.” Right in front of her, in the bookstore. The humidity turned his ginger curls to ginger frizz. “I’ll call you later.” Darlene dropped her phone in her bag. Now she was the one who was flustered. “Hi!”

“Hello, Darlene. Looking gorgeous, as always.”

“Gosh, I feel like I’m talking to a celebrity.” Darlene touched her cheek, unexpectedly nervous. Charles always made her—possibly everyone—feel slightly on edge.

“Well, I did just get invited on The Daily Show,” Charles simpered. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking up some of the titles you recommended. You?”

“Signing books.” Charles indicated the copies on the front table, before turning back with a complex expression. “You have to put me out of my misery. Please tell me something isn’t going on with you and Zach.”

Thank God Charles unfollowed her when they broke up, and he definitely didn’t follow Zach. He likely hadn’t seen all the pictures Zach had tagged her in. “It’s complicated,” was the simplest, truest answer she could conjure.

Her ex-boyfriend grimaced. “It’s just so frustrating.”

“What is?”

“Zach Livingstone is a human blow-up doll!” Charles spluttered. “Look, I get it: pleasures of the flesh, et cetera—but if one day I get an invite to your wedding, it’s pistols at dawn. I mean it!”

Even broken up, Darlene had a powerful urge to impress Charles. It reminded her of typical conversations with her father, the satisfaction of a flowing, erudite conversation with someone she found authoritative. Ultimately, it was why she and Charles didn’t work as a couple, but still, the old instinct flared. She racked her brain for the cleverest way to return his shot. “Don’t worry: I’m completely clear-eyed about Zach Livingstone. Thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.”

Charles rewarded her effort with an extremely rare giggle. “Shakespeare truly was the master of insults.”

Darlene flushed hard with his approval. It made her feel light-headed and reckless. “I’d sooner marry a donkey than date Zach Livingstone!” She regretted the cruel boast as soon as it leaped from her lips. It was mean, but more so, it was in no way true.

Charles snorted laughter. He caught the eye of the person at the front counter and pulled himself together. “Must be off.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you, Charles. For always seeing the best in me.”

He gave her a pleased grin, and headed off, calling back over his shoulder. “Remember: pistols at dawn.”

Darlene forced a laugh and tapped her elbow. But when Charles looked away, her smile dropped. That hadn’t felt as satisfying as she hoped it would.

Did Charles see the best in her? He rarely complimented her. And when he did, it was usually about her looks, never about her intelligence. She’d always cast Charles as her teacher, and she, the willing student. She could see now she’d put him on too high a pedestal.

She thought about the Cindy Sherman exhibition she and Zach went to a few weeks ago. There’d been a long line, which would usually irritate or simply bore Darlene. Zach didn’t mind at all, striking up a spirited conversation with the couple in front of them, middle-aged tourists from Germany. Charles