“Arm Candy”

Amber wasn’t the type of ex-girlfriend to go quietly.

Five days after we’d broken up she left a voicemail asking the name of the bar from our second date. She changed her profile picture a dozen times that first month, each one a picture I had taken.

When I found out from a mutual friend that Amber was attending one of my stand-up comedy shows, I decided to strike back.

Enter Vanessa. This beauty sat two cubicles over from me 40 hours a week. Just close enough to smell every time she applied one of those multi-scented lotions.

My scheme didn’t take much coaxing. “Want to help me with something?”

“Business or personal, Tim?” She wheeled her chair back and faced me with legs crossed.

“My ex won’t leave me alone.”

Vanessa brushed her dark hair over her shoulder and smiled. She was one of those women who claimed guys were afraid to ask out, but clearly turned down a handful of suitors a week. It took months to make a habit of not staring at her. At Thursday happy hour, us guys always jockeyed for the seat next to her, but we dared not attempt anything because of how assertive she was. So yeah, this plan was ballsy.

“What can I do to help?” She said that a lot around the office, implying this would be business after all.

“Supposedly Amber’s going to show up to this comedy gig I’m doing Saturday, and she won’t be alone. Know what I mean?” I then realized I sounded like the loser in my breakup. Vanessa would think even less of me. The whole office would know about this stunt, and the guys would never let me hear the end of it. It could even get back to Amber somehow.

“I’m listening.”

She wanted to hear me say it.

“I need an escort, no wait, a date, I mean — ”

“You need arm candy.” She placed her palms together under her chin like a praying mantis. How appropriate.

“Nevermind.” I shook my head. “Yeah, now that I say it out loud, it sounds kinda petty.”

“If you change your mind let me know.” Vanessa bit her bottom lip and slid back into her cubicle to resume her phone calls.

For the rest of the morning, her voice was all I could hear. Our call center was a seasonal business helping people with tax refunds, and as March neared the calls increased. Even as I spoke to random callers and gave them the spiel that their refund would arrive in one to two Fridays, I couldn’t get over the fantasy of Amber seeing me with Vanessa.

Had Amber found some stud much better looking than me? Did he have broader shoulders, and was he over six feet tall? Would his clothes all come from those fancy stores at the mall I never entered?

I didn’t want Amber back, but I couldn’t let her win. I glanced back over to Vanessa. She was the only woman in the office who wore heels every day. And an ankle bracelet. What the hell would my ex think about a woman who wore an ankle bracelet?

I worked like a rock star that afternoon. A new joke or two came to me as I dealt with the rude phone calls. A few minutes before quitting time my phone buzzed. It was Amber.

“Are you on the show at Chuck’s Pub Saturday?”

I handled another call before texting back. “Yes.”

“Cool, we’re looking forward to it.”

We’re. The intentional plural pronoun fired right at me.

I put my phone back in my pocket and slid my chair back out into the aisle. “Hey Vanessa?”

She turned and put a finger up as she finished a call. Then she pulled her headset off and pushed her hair behind her ears. “What’s up, Hun?”

My heart fluttered. “You still down for Project: Eye Candy on Saturday?”

She blew me a kiss.

***

The Saturday night showcase at Chuck’s Pub hit over the century mark in attendance regularly during the colder months. On a normal night, I wouldn’t have been nervous. The larger the crowd, the easier my job was.

I hadn’t dared offer Vanessa a ride to our pseudo night out. Plus I had to be at the venue early, and I didn’t want her waiting alone at the bar. When the showroom doors opened for seating I cowered backstage with the other comics, peeking out every so often. Where was Amber going to sit? And where was Vanessa?

My stomach twisted. What if Amber didn’t show and Vanessa thought I’d only asked her out as a ploy for a first date? Or worse, what if Vanessa didn’t show and Amber and her new beau cornered me afterwards? I was about to hurry back out to the bar when I saw my ex enter the showroom.

Her date looked underwhelming at first, but as they walked toward their seats at the second row of tables, I got a better view. He had one of those faces with an orchestrated scruff, and I could safely say his hair was cut in a fancier salon than my Great Clips. His brown leather jacket looked almost liquid.

I felt underdressed. Same ol’ jeans. Same ol’ polo shirt.

Where was my date?

Somehow my set went well. The crowd was hot, and I kept my focus despite knowing my ex-girlfriend was probably on her third drink with a guy she would go home with. Instead of staying backstage to support my buddies, I exited the showroom to the bar area. A moment later Vanessa found me.

“That was great!” she said.

“I thought you missed it.”

“Sorry, a little late, but I caught your whole skit.”

I hated that word, but at least she witnessed it.

“Wanna just grab a drink out here with me then?”

She took her coat off revealing a little black dress not appropriate for the office. My heart thumped with pride as she scooted next to me at the bar. She waved her manicured hand at the bartender. “Martini please?”

The bartender obliged but ignored me and my nearly empty Corona bottle I’d been carrying around all night.

As we chatted, I forgot all about the plan, Amber, and Mr. Leather Jacket. It was a solid first date. I didn’t want the show to end and the crowd to intrude upon us, but alas, the showroom doors finally popped open.

“My turn to perform,” Vanessa said. God bless her.

Amber and her man were the last couple to exit the showroom. She feigned surprise with a goofy smile when she saw me waiting, but when she noticed Vanessa the shock was evident. She paused her strut, then draped her arm through the mystery man’s and approached us.

“Hi there.” Such a fake voice. “I’m Amber and this is Brad.” The introduction of Brad was only to me. “Who do we have here?”

I smiled. “This is Vanessa.”

When Vanessa stood from her barstool her dress hiked up to her upper thigh. She extended her hand to Amber. It was then that I noticed the brown beer bottle, a Bud Lite, trembling in my ex’s other hand. She almost dropped it she was shaking so badly. Satisfaction washed through my soul. I almost felt guilty. Almost. The jealousy poured from Amber’s eyes conceding she wasn’t serious with Brad. Oh to lock that moment away for future use whenever I needed cheering up. Was she going to cry?

“How you been, Trouble?” Vanessa said to Brad.

“Good, you?” He smiled back at her. They bumped their hips. What was happening?

Vanessa looked at me. “You two probably want to catch up a bit.”

I didn’t! I could’ve gone my whole life without ever speaking to Amber again if Vanessa would’ve just stayed by my side. Instead, she was letting Brad pull out a chair at a nearby table for two while my ex stared at me with a look as sour as the day we broke up.

“So Brad and I have been seeing each other. I guess you could say we’re getting serious,” Amber said. “Guess it’s good to get this over with.”

“I’ve known Vanessa awhile,” I said. Behind Amber our two dates laughed. Only silence joined our awkward exchange.

I don’t remember what we even talked about after that, then suddenly Brad was putting his jacket on.

“Heading to the ladies room,” Vanessa said. She touched my shoulder.

I nodded, glad to be visible to her again.

Brad and Amber exited together without a goodbye.

I waited. Vanessa was taking her sweet time in the restroom. There wasn’t a line. Had she gone back into the showroom?

I was ordering another round when Amber walked back in.

“Well this sucks,” she said sitting down in Vanessa’s spot.

“Um, that seat’s taken.” I didn’t need to rub it in further. “She’s still in the — ”

“Wake up, dummy. They left together. I need a ride home.”