Chapter Three

Monday arrived with sunshine slicing through the curtains like a promise. Nancy rolled out of bed before her alarm with a grin already glistening wide across her face. She did a little spin on the way to her closet, bare feet sliding on the floor, humming something without realizing it. There was a very specific reason to feel this good — which made it all the more magical.

By the time she hit the office, she was caffeinated, lip-glossed, and practically floating.

“Good morning, you radiant creatures!” she chirped, breezing past the front desk.

Mark blinked up from his tablet, his hair laying flat to one side like he’d forgotten to comb it this morning, and muttered something that might've been “morning,” though it sounded suspiciously like “more coffee.” Nancy just laughed.

She was relentless in her cheer. Emails were answered with an alarming number of exclamation points. A morning team meeting turned into a half-standup routine thanks to her crackling mood, complete with impressions of Dwight from The Office, and quoting Heidi Klume from Project Runway. Her coworkers were rolling by the end of it.

And when she reviewed photos from the latest product shoot, she actually clapped at one. Clapped. Like an excited child at a carnival. She didn’t even care.

By lunch, Nancy had infected the entire floor with a low-grade case of optimism. Even Mark’s sarcastic remarks had a hint of hope rather than the usual dark despair, sort of.

She slipped into the breakroom with her salad and an itch to talk, pulling out her phone before she even took a bite.

Nellie picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Okay.” Nancy grinned into the phone. “You’re going to love this. I matched with someone last night.”

A pause. “Already?”

“Yes, already,” she dragged the word out, eyes sparkling. “His name’s Ethan, and we actually talked. Like, real conversation. Funny, thoughtful, not weird or shirtless in his first photo. It felt… kind of electric? And we’re getting coffee tonight.”

Another pause.

“…Huh.”

“Huh?” Nancy echoed, brow furrowing.

“I mean, I’m happy for you, Nance,” Nellie said slowly. “But that was fast, don’t you think? You just decided to take this journey. You’re still figuring yourself out.”

“I know,” Nancy said, still trying to laugh it off, “but it just felt… easy.”

“I’m not saying he’s bad,” Nellie added quickly. “Just… don’t get swept up. People aren’t always what they seem at first.”

The words stuck like tar in her chest, slowing everything around her. The color fading to dingy muted gray.

“Of course,” Nancy mumbled. “I know.”

“You’ve been through a lot. You don’t have to rush. Just be careful, okay?”

They wrapped the call not long after. Nancy stared down at her half-eaten salad, her earlier joy curdling.

Mark sauntered in with a lunchbox he doesn’t ever remember buying that had been packed by his wife. He pulled out a sandwich, a bag of chips, a Diet Coke, and a chocolate snack pack pudding complete with dinosaur themed napkin.

“I know it's a silly thing to look forward to, but I love when the wife packs my lunch when she does the kid’s. Is there anything better than dinosaurs and pudding?” he asked rhetorically. He finally looked at Nancy’s face and the smile that had been plastered and firmly fixated to her all day was gone.

His smile also fell, knowing that the fleeting energy from this morning was now gone with the wind.

Nancy gave a weak smile and stared into her half-eaten salad. “Mark… can I ask you something kind of personal?”

He peeled open his pudding cup without looking up. “Sure, but if it’s about why happiness is fleeting, I left my existential crisis in my other pants.”

She snorted, barely. “No, it’s… relationships.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, spoon paused mid-air. “Ah yes. Love. That old chestnut. Proceed.”

She sighed, watching the clouds move slowly across the sky through the wall of windows near them. “Do you think people know when they meet the right person? Like—do you believe in that instant click? The whole ‘this is it’ moment?”

Mark finally looked at her, skeptical. “You mean like lightning bolts and choirs and uncontrollable sobbing in the rain? Yeah, no. But I do believe in getting stuck with someone at a work retreat and realizing they don’t make you want to claw your eyes out. That’s basically love.”

Nancy gave a dry laugh. “Romantic.”

“Hey, Lou and I met at an HR training, before you swooped in and stole me from their department giving us a chance to date publicly. Nothing says destiny like sexual harassment slides and stale coffee.” He scooped a spoonful of pudding like it was the peak of wisdom. “I didn’t know she was ‘the one.’ I just kept wanting to tell her stupid things. That was it.”

Nancy picked at the corner of her napkin. “I started talking to this guy last night—Ethan. Just messages, but he’s funny. Easy to talk to. I felt… good. Really good. And now I’m spiraling because Nellie thinks I met him too fast and maybe she’s right. Maybe the one can’t be the first person with a personality to message me 6 hours after I make a dating profile.”

Mark nodded slowly. “Well, Nellie does have the emotional range of a crime drama. But she’s not wrong to be cautious. Most people on those apps turn out to be three raccoons in a trench coat.”

“Comforting,” she muttered.

“Look, you’re allowed to be excited,” he said, his voice softening—slightly. “Hope isn’t a crime. But maybe keep one foot on the ground while the other’s dancing off into the fantasy sunset.”

She chewed on that, then glanced at him. “Is that a metaphor or are you picturing me doing some kind of interpretive leap?”

“Oh, full leap. Dramatic arm flail and everything.”

Nancy smiled, genuine this time. “Thanks, Mark.”

He raised his pudding cup in salute. “Anytime. Now go text your maybe-raccoon prince and just… don’t send nudes until at least the third message. That’s science.”

She smiled weakly, trying to feel better about everything, but admittedly she still felt like doubt was chewing her like bubble gum.

By the time she got home that evening, her high had eroded into something closer to static. She dropped her bag on the kitchen counter and stood there a moment, keys still in hand, feeling the room judging her loudly.

She had three hours before the date. Just enough time to turn into a disaster.

She headed to the bedroom and stared at the outfit she’d picked out that morning — a breezy, floral dress that had felt fun and confident just hours ago. Now, under the dim weight of Nellie’s voice in her memory, it looked childish. Too bright. Like she was trying too hard.

“Ugh,” Nancy groaned, throwing it onto the bed. She turned to her closet and began tearing through it, hanger after hanger, nothing quite right. Everything was either too formal, too frumpy, too revealing, or had bad memories clinging to it like lint.

She flopped to the floor surrounded by rejected fabrics, rubbing her temples. "Okay. Okay. It's just a coffee date, not a fashion show. You're a grown woman. You wear clothes. You've done this before."

Finally, she settled on dark jeans and a casual t-shirt with a cartoon Spock on the front. It felt safe. Boring, maybe. But safe.

Then came makeup.

She sat at the vanity and started her usual routine. Primer. Concealer. Foundation. But halfway through her eyeliner, she leaned back and squinted.

“Nope.”

She scrubbed her face clean with a makeup wipe and started over.

Blush this time, more mascara, different lip. No.

Wipe. Start again.

The third time, her hands were shaking. The fourth, she didn’t even bother finishing. She just stared at herself in the mirror, blotchy and raw from all the rubbing, hair in a wild frizz from stress.

“I look like I’m about to cry,” she muttered.

And she kind of was.

Nancy stood abruptly and went to the bathroom sink, splashing water on her face, patting it dry with a towel. She pulled her hair up into a bun, the kind of loose, whatever bun she usually reserved for laundry day. She stared at herself again.

No gloss. No shimmer. No illusion.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Since it doesn’t even matter and its just coffee, this is what he gets. A splotchy, no make-up, casual mess.”

She grabbed her bag, keys, and dignity off the floor, and left for the coffee shop.

On the drive there, she tried to shake the nerves crawling up her spine. Tried to remember the spark from the night before. The way Ethan had asked about her favorite books, her comfort foods. The way he’d laughed at her dumbest joke. She wanted to remind herself that this wasn’t the end of the world, though it oddly felt like it.

But doubt had a way of soaking into the seams of things. Even her playlist annoyed her.

She parked outside the coffee shop ten minutes early and sat in the car, staring at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her face looked too bare. Her eyes too tired. But it was too late now.

She checked her phone. Ethan had messaged: I’m almost there and I brought a guest. I hope you don’t mind.

“A guest?” Nancy questioned, becoming even more anxious. “He brought someone, and I look like this?” Her mind raced with possibilities. What if he’d brought his friends, or his best friend? What if he brought his sister? What would she think of this outfit and no face on? Nancy was spiraling and on the edge of crying.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Mark displaying only a thumbs up emoji and nothing more.

Nancy took a deep breath, got out of the car, and walked toward the shop, shoulders squared.

She didn’t know what would come of tonight. Maybe Ethan would be amazing. Maybe he’d be a catfish or a jerk or just incredibly boring. But she was showing up anyway. As herself.

That had to count for something.

Ethan was running late.

Nancy checked her watch, then the door, then her phone, deciding to head inside to order her drink.

“A caramel macchiato, add a shot,” she said, giving the barista a polite smile. It was one of her comfort orders — sweet, sharp, dependable.

Since the weather was nice, she carried her cup out to the patio and settled into a small, sun-warmed table. The breeze tugged lightly at the stray hairs around her bun. She tapped her fingers against the paper cup, eyes flicking toward every person walking up.

Then she saw him.

Ethan jogged up the sidewalk with an apologetic grin on his face — and a small dog trotting proudly beside him.

“Nancy?” he asked, voice a little breathless.

She stood and returned his smile. “Hey. You’re late.”

“Fashionably. But I brought a peace offering.” He gestured down. “This is Crowley.”

The tiny dog, a sleek Toy Fox Terrier, looked up at her with intelligent eyes and a small, polite wag.

Nancy crouched slightly. “Well hello, Crowley.” Nancy smiled and before she could stop herself, “Don’t go trying to steal my soul now!” Her face turned scarlet as she heard herself speak before stifling herself.

Ethan chuckled. “He’s just might. He is low on his quota for this month. It’s so great that you’re also a Supernatual fan, that is going to save me a lot of embarrassment and awkward conversations later.” He smiled comfortingly.

Nancy laughed. “He looks very dignified.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Ethan said with mock seriousness. “He’ll get ideas.”

Then he glanced toward the door. “Mind holding his leash while I grab my coffee?”

“Sure,” she said, taking the thin leash as Crowley sat obediently at her feet.

“He’s well trained,” Ethan added over his shoulder. “Won’t summon any demons unless provoked.”

Nancy smiled to herself as she looked down at her little charge. Crowley blinked up at her, tail giving one measured thump.

Okay, she thought. This might actually be kind of wonderful.

Ethan came back to the table with an iced mocha frappuccino, and way too much whipped cream on top as well as a side cup also full of whipped cream.

“Okay, Crowley. It’s time to earn your pup-cup.” he said with a big grin on his face. Crowley promptly hopped to his feet and spun excitedly. Ethan made a few hand gestures and Crowley complied without a vocal prompt. He’d sat down, laid down, rolled over, and sat up with his paws in the air before Ethan sat the cup down on the ground for him to enjoy.

“Wow, that was really impressive!” Nancy said with a charmed smile. “Did you teach him all that, or was he trained when you got him?”

“That was all me! I got him when he was a puppy at the shelter. My cat, the one in the photo, was showing signs of being lonely while I was at work, so I wanted to get her puppy. Thick as thieves now, the two of them. Especially when they conspire against me and steal my socks.”

She laughed. “That’s horrifying and I love it.”

He smiled, warm and relaxed. “Okay, we might be off to a dangerously good start. What else do you like? Any more shows in common? Tell me you’re at least a Buffy fan, or this is over.”

“Of course I am. Buffy is sacred. Spike was my first love,” she said, eyes twinkling.

Ethan clapped once, delighted. “Yes! I always say if Buffy and Dean Winchester teamed up, the apocalypse wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“Only if they brought lightsabers,” Nancy added. “Which, they totally deserve. And maybe a transporter or two. Imagine the cross-fandom logistics.”

Ethan mock-gasped. “Wait… Star Wars and Star Trek? I might have to marry you.”

Nancy laughed. “At least buy me a muffin first.”

Then he glanced toward the door. “It’s still too early. I only show the biscuits on the third date.”

Nancy could feel herself blush while she giggled at his easy jokes

“So. What do you do for fun when you’re not making small talk with suspiciously charming men?”

“Avoiding the movie theater,” Nancy said immediately. “I swear, people have forgotten how to be in public.”

“Thank you!” he said, raising his cup in a mock-toast. “I once had a guy take a phone call during Dune. Full conversation. I nearly went full Sith.”

“That should be a criminal offense,” she said, grinning. “We should just ban theaters and replace them with beach screenings. Everyone shuts up when there’s a sunset.”

“Ooh, beach movies. That’s a dream date right there. Popcorn, blankets, no talking… except for our running commentary, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she said.

Ethan took a long sip of his drink, then tilted his head at her. “So what do you do, besides being charming and cinema law enforcement?”

Nancy chuckled. “Marketing. I’m a specialist at this mid-sized firm downtown. Lots of brainstorms, brand strategy, spreadsheets… but I try to make it fun.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely. “You’re one of the people who actually makes things look good. Respect.”

She grinned. “Damn right. And you?”

“Data analyst,” he replied, a little sheepishly. “I know, very sexy.”

“Oh, so sexy,” she teased. “Nothing gets me going like pivot tables.”

“Hey, don’t knock the pivot table,” he said, mock-offended. “Those things are powerful. One minute it’s chaos, next minute you’ve got a bar graph telling the truth.”

Nancy laughed. “Alright, spreadsheet whisperer. Where’d you learn your dark magic?”

“USC,” he said proudly. “Computer Science. Go Trojans.”

Nancy recoiled with a dramatic gasp. “Boo!”

Ethan blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I went to UCLA,” she said, flipping her hair with mock arrogance. “Marketing degree. Actual soul intact.”

He clutched his chest like she’d stabbed him. “A Bruin? This changes everything.”

“I knew there was something suspicious about you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Bringing Crowley was a clever distraction.”

“I was trying to neutralize the enemy,” he said with a smirk. “Besides, you Bruins only get riled up when we win. Which is… often.”

“Oh, please. Enjoy your third-place bowl games and inflated sense of superiority.”

He leaned back, clearly enjoying this. “You’re lucky this coffee shop is neutral territory.”

“Very,” she said, sipping her drink with regal calm. “Or else I’d be forced to crush you in a very polite marketing campaign.”

Their eyes met across the table, both grinning, and something warm threaded between them — playful, bright, and real.

They talked for nearly an hour, their coffees growing cold (or in Ethan’s case, warm) as the conversation wandered from childhood embarrassments to conspiracy theories about who was really behind Taco Bell’s menu changes.

At some point, the sun dipped low enough to cast long golden beams across the patio, and Nancy found herself leaning back in her chair, completely at ease. Almost.

Ethan swirled his now-empty cup absently, then glanced at her with something a little softer than before. “So… real talk?”

Nancy arched an eyebrow. “Weren’t we just discussing the Illuminati’s grip on Crunchwrap pricing?”

He laughed. “Okay, slightly realer talk.”

“I’m listening.”

“Do you ever think about… where you want all this to go? Life, I mean. Not like, this date,” he said quickly, then added, “Unless you want it to go somewhere, which — I mean, not that it has to—”

She reached out and touched his hand lightly. “Ethan.”

He stopped, exhaled. “Yeah?”

“I get what you’re trying to ask. And yeah… I do think about it.”

He looked relieved. “Good. Because I’ve had enough first dates where it felt like we weren’t even allowed to be honest about wanting more than just brunch and vibes.”

Nancy nodded slowly. “I get that. I think… for me, I want to end up in a quieter place. A small house in the suburbs. Still close enough to the city to breathe it in when I need it, but far enough to hear crickets at night.”

“Sounds peaceful,” he said, watching her.

“I want to rent out my condo eventually — maybe have a garden,” she added. “And I want to get married. Not in a ‘big princess gown’ kind of way. Just… the partnership. The sharing of the daily stuff. Grocery lists and inside jokes. The knowing someone sees you.”

There was a pause.

“But I don’t want kids.”

Ethan blinked. “Oh.”

She waited. “That a dealbreaker?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “I don’t know. Honestly. I’ve gone back and forth on it a lot. I like the idea of a family, but the world’s a mess and parenting looks like—” he made a wild, overwhelmed face, “—a hurricane in slow motion.”

Nancy smiled faintly. “That’s… not inaccurate.”

He went quiet for a beat. “I guess I haven’t decided. Part of me thinks I’d make a decent dad. But another part wonders if I’m just supposed to be the cool uncle who teaches them how to fake-sneeze glitter.”

She laughed, her chest loosening a little. “That’s a valuable life skill.”

“Exactly. I’m just saying — I haven’t ruled it out. But I’m not rushing toward it either.”

She nodded, thoughtful. “I appreciate that you’re honest. And that you didn’t just nod and agree with me because you think that’s what I wanted to hear.”

“I figure if we’re gonna do real talk, we might as well do it.”

Nancy looked at him for a long moment. “That’s… actually really refreshing.”

He raised his cup in salute. “To real talk.”

She clinked her cup against his. “To honesty and glitter-sneezing uncles.”

Crowley had fallen asleep beside his pup-cup a while ago and was happily snoozing as the sun went down, the concrete still warmed from the day.

“I suppose I’d better get this guy home. Sasha will be wondering where we are.” Ethan said, smiling down at the dozing dog.

“Sasha?” Nancy asked bemused.

“My cat. Did I not say her name? Yes, Sasha. The old ball and chain. She pretty much controls the both of us.” He said with a hint of whimsy in his voice. “Plus the murder mittens are not kind if I’m late with her dinner.”

“Well, that sounds a bit terrifying. I don’t have pets right now, but my grandma had a cat while I was growing up, and he bit. Really hard. He’d been declawed.”

“That should be illegal,” he said flatly.

“Absolutely agree.”

“Wow, I just noticed your shirt. Spock is awesome!” Ethan’s voice was so delighted that it made Nancy blush. She’d completely forgotten her outfit and make up melt down from earlier.

“He’s iconic! Although, I’m more of a Jadzia fan for my science officers.” She blushed again, not reigning in her inner nerd.

“Impeccable taste, as always.” He smiled. He pulled out his phone, and opened the contacts. He tapped ‘new’ and held his phone out to her. “If you don’t mind, I thought this went really well and I’d really love to text you directly instead of through that app. Would you be up for that?”

Nancy thought for a moment before taking his phone with an excited smile. He’d definitely reminded her of how easy he was to talk to. There was nothing difficult or complicated. Nothing felt hidden or dodged. She added her details to his phone and tapped the section for a profile picture, and tapped ‘take new.’ She threw her fingers into a peace sign, pursed her lips in a kiss face and saved.

“Wow, I even got a picture cerca 1998! This day just gets better and better!” he chuckled. Nancy handed him her phone expecting the same. He’d input his details, but handed her the phone to take the picture. He recreated her pose exactly, but added Crowley as well.

“Stunning!” she said.

They waved goodbye, and she watched him and Crowley disappear down the street, assuming that he must live nearby. She hopped into her car to begin heading home. Her phone buzzed with a message from Ethan already.

“I rolled a nat 20 before I left, and my dice never lie. Can’t wait to hangout again!”

She smiled.