Page 52 of The Dating Charade

The preacher was well into the sermon by the time Jett slumped into a pew three rows from the back. He exhaled. Then a prayer started, and for one glorious minute there was silence in a room of well over one thousand people.

A loud chime echoed from his pants pocket, loud as the drop of a headlamp echoing through a soundless cave. Perfect. Just perfect.

Several eyes opened. Fumbling to pull out his phone, he caught Sarah’s text as he silenced it.

Just checking in. You doing ok?

Clinging to the single thread of dignity he had left, Jett jammed the phone into his pocket without answering.

For the next forty solid minutes, he did nothing but breathe.

It was heaven.

“Let us stand.” The preacher lifted his arms, the cart of communion cups beside him. “Whenever you are ready, come.”

Jett merged into the long line. A pause caused him to stop, and he looked ahead, two rows up, to see several women breaking into the crowd of people. His eyes started to move on. But then, like a lulling baby jerking awake, his gaze snapped to the two women he knew only too well.

Donna Gene, standing out like a purple Easter egg in a basket of black eggs, adjusted her broad-rimmed violet hat just before pushing a walker into the line. Edie wobbled close behind, spraying her hand sanitizer in the air just before merging.

“Excuse me.” Jett gestured for another woman to go ahead of him and ducked away. With a church that size there were two other lines on this floor, and another two on the floor above. He’d just have to move to another—

A hand gripped him by the shirt and tugged him back.

Cassie, grinning elfishly at the sight of him, pointed to his shirt.

“What happened?” she whispered. “You look like you broke into the wine early.”

“It’s grape juice, actually,” he whispered back. “And as a matter of fact, I did.”

Her smile dropped slightly. “You did what now?” she hissed.

Oh, right. As if he was going to explain everything here. In a silent sanctuary, with award-winning acoustics.

Quickly, Jett flashed a warm, somewhat apologetic smile as if to say, “Oh, I’d love to chat, were it the right time,” and turned his face forward, head bowing reverently. Nobody ever interrupted a person with a bowed head; it was one of those universal rules. And sure enough, they silently went forward, took communion, and found their seats.

A few final words and ten minutes later, Jett found himself back in the foyer among a sea of people—most important, the woman in the comfortable-looking gray-and-white striped dress who peered up at him.

“What are you doing here?” Cassie stuck her arms into her dress pockets, a tease in her grin. “Are you stalking me now? I’ve never been stalked before. I probably shouldn’t sound so excited.”

“This was my first time.” Jett crossed his arms, trying to cover as much of the stain as possible. At least the tie had stopped dripping at this point.

“Sure. Sure. If you’re stalking me, I guess you’re not supposed to give it away. Well, what’d’ya think? Think you’ll stick around?”

“I think I might.” The memory of Drew standing on tiptoes for the communion cups came back to him. “It took some work getting here, but it was worth it.” His smile tilted. “And no, not just because of the present company. Although it certainly is a plus.”

And for several minutes he felt as though they were alone in the middle of the large foyer, standing beneath the chandelier amid a whirl of men greeting each other with friendly slaps on the backs, families toting children toward the nursery, and attendees leaving to make room for those coming. It was calm, it was normal. For the first time that morning, he felt like a decently pulled-together human being.

A carpeted, quiet-looking area in a room to the far left caught his eye behind her. A coffee station stood in its corner, a red plastic tablecloth covering what looked like a simple metal table. Two large white containers of generic sugar and nondairy creamer stood next to a stack of coffee cups. He wasn’t sure from this angle, but it seemed reasonable to assume there were at least a couple of chairs in the otherwise empty room. And right now, with the second service still ten minutes away, he had one hour to spare.

Sure, three weeks ago cheap coffee in the corner of a church would have been the worst date ever, but right now the room shone like the mountain of gold the dragon Smaug protected in his fiery den. It sang to him, lured him. An hour in some folding metal chairs with Cassie today would be worth a hundred dollar bill. Maybe two.

He nodded in the coffee station’s direction. “You know, I could do with a cup of coffee. You care for any?”

She turned toward it, and he realized his error. Just because he was stranded here for the next hour didn’t mean she was. What would he say if she suggested they take this date somewhere more official—like a real coffeeshop or a restaurant?

But to his surprise, her smile widened. “Sure. Maybe I’ll get to see you add a coffee stain to your shirt as well. You know, for being a decent baller, you’re the clumsiest person I know.”

His fingers tingled as he touched her shoulder, and together they moved through the crowd. Through the soft knit material of her dress, her figure was lean, her shapely calves silhouetted beneath her black leggings. She was the perfect mix for him—feminine but strong, soft yet capable, kind while carrying an air of quiet intelligence. She knew herself. She was the type of person who was confident of her tastes and acted upon them, knew what was expected of her and followed through.