I stood up the moment I saw her and buttoned my coat. The hostess led her to my table in the far corner of the restaurant. It provided the most privacy and also a view of the ocean. When she reached the table I bent down and kissed both her cheeks.

"The waiter will be right along to take your order," the hostess said. She smiled more brightly than was entirely necessary and went back to her post. I pulled out the chair for my grandmother before I sat down myself.

"Alright Nana, what was so important that it couldn't wait until this evening?" I asked. My fork was placed crookedly and I moved it slightly so it was perfectly aligned with my spoon and knife. There was a difference between a job done well and a job done adequately.

"Do you remember the promise you made me?" Nana asked. She raised her glass to the light to make sure it was clean. I don't know why people thought I was the only control freak in the family.

"Which one?" I asked. I had made my grandmother a lot of promises, most of which I kept. There were some I had forgotten because they just weren't going to happen.

"That you will marry the girl of my choice," Nana clarified. I took a deep breath. I had chosen to forget that promise, but she never had. She couldn't, of course. She had made my mother a promise. Now, Nana was adamant on finding a girl who could live up to my dead mother's expectations; a girl who did not exist, in my opinion.

"Yes, I vaguely recall it. Are you freeing me from it?" I asked. What other reason could be there? There wasn't a woman out there who could respect and protect the Lockwood family name like my mother had. Before Nana could answer, our waiter appeared beside the table.

"Yes, I will have my standing order," Nana said. The waiter looked at her helplessly.

"Chace, aren't you going to order?"

"I'll have the Garden salad." I had lost my appetite the minute Nana had mentioned my marriage. I obviously had no intention of getting married but it had been my mother's wish. She wanted me to marry a woman who will always love and support me and not be in it for my money. I had dated many women but I never thought about spending my life with any one of them. The waiter was still standing there, looking absolutely terrified. I had no idea what was so terrifying about our orders.

"What's wrong?" Nana asked.

"Your standing order, ma'am?"

Nana straightened up and looked at the waiter with an expressionless face. It was the same look I got every time I did something wrong, even now.

"Young man, I am Althea Lockwood. I come here every Friday and order the same lunch, it is my standing order. If you don't know what it is, ask your manager or chef. That will be all."

The waiter left in a hurry and Nana turned to me.

"You scared him."

"I don't stand for incompetencies."

"He's probably new."

"I know. I was talking about the restaurant."

The waiter was quick with a bread basket and bottle of wine. He poured it into our glasses and Nana and I took a sip. When he left I looked at Nana.

"About my promise?"

"Right, of course. I have found the perfect girl for you!" Nana said. She looked happy, excited even, which was unusual for her these days given the recent problems in our family. I felt far from it. How could she find a girl who didn't exist?

"So, you've met her?"

"Yes, I have. And she's fantastic."

"I highly doubt that." Nana frowned at me.

"Chace, you made me a promise," she said.

"Yes, to marry a woman who lives up to your expectations the way Mom did. And there's no one like that," I said. I was certain of that.

"You haven't even met her yet," Nana said. I took a sip of my wine, deliberating. Did I want to meet this woman? I suppose it wasn't going to do any harm.

"I'll meet her. Does she know what you're planning?"

"No, I only met her for five minutes."

"How do you know she's perfect then?" I asked bewildered. How great of a first impression did this girl make in five minutes?

"Are you doubting me?"

"No, of course not." The waiter brought our food then and left in a hurry. It was quiet while we tasted our food, added salt and pepper to our liking.

"Alright then, you will meet her. She works at the bar & grill down the street. She's the bartender," Nana said. I put down my fork and placed my hands on the table. I looked at my grandmother a long moment before I asked my next question.

"Nana, does your heart medication have any side-effects? I think it might be effecting your thought process because you're not making sense. How can I, Chace Lockwood, marry a bartender? And you really want a bartender as a granddaughter-in-law?"

Nana put down her knife and fork and placed her hands on the table like I had done. She wore a perfectly serious expression.

"That is correct. I do want her as my granddaughter-in-law. Mind you, she'll be far better than the ones I already have and the same goes for my daughters-in-law as well. But she is more than just a bartender. She might be a bit young, but I know she will fit perfectly into the monopoly that is our beloved family," Nana exclaimed. I looked around the restaurant and saw people talking softly with their companions or reading or working. They were just leading normal lives and mine seemed to be falling apart. Then something else occurred to me and I turned to Nana.

"What do you mean by a bit young?"

"She's 23," nAna replied calmly.

"That's a six year age difference! And in the five minutes you knew her you're sure she wouldn't mind being a bored housewife? And what were you doing at a bar & grill?" Nana smiled.

"Darling, trust me she won't be bored. In fact, I believe Rejoyla is just the girl to straighten you out." I sat back against my chair and crossed my arms.

"What kind of a name is Rejoyla?"

—

"Joy!" I turned around at the sound of my name and found him immediately. He had come into the bar last night and asked me out. I had seen him before but he was always with friends. My mother was against this date but I was determined.

"Mark, hey."

Mark reached me and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. We both smiled awkwardly at each other. The smiles held both the excitement of what could happen next and the disappointment if it didn't work out. And given my case history's it would be the latter.

"Thank you for meeting me here. I got held up at work and I didn't want to cancel," Mark said.

"Oh, sure, of course."

Actually I had been relieved when he had called and asked me to meet him instead of him coming to pick me up. I didn't want him to know where I lived just yet. Maybe if he passed the test.

"So should we go in?" Mark asked.

"Yes." Mark opened the door of the coffee shop and I walked in. It was a quaint little place and the scent of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air. Mark and I walked to an empty table in the back and sat down.

"What would you like to drink?" Mark asked.

"Earl Grey tea."

"And to eat?"

"Just the tea is fine, thank you."

Mark put down his messenger bag and got in line to order. I took that time to really look at him. He was cute, tall, an average American guy. He probably played football or baseball in high school. He probably has a younger sister he was really protective of. He worked hard during the week and hung out with his friends on the weekend. And how many average American guys have I been on a date with? A whooping total of 21, from the age of sixteen to twenty three. Mark just might be number 22.

"Hey, is everything okay? You look deep in thought."

I blinked and focused on Mark, who was now sitting down across from me. He put the tray he was carrying on the table and handed me my cup of tea.

"Thank you."

"So, what do you do?" I asked. I dipped the tea bag into my cup and pulled it out after a minute. I stirred it and took a sip.

"I work in the IT department at Lockwood Inc.," Mark said.

"Lockwood Inc., that's impressive. I heard it's really tough to get a job there," I said. I would know, I had applied. Regardless, it was their loss. Maybe they couldn't handle someone like me working there.

"What about you? I can't imagine bar-tending as your dream job," Mark said.

"I do get to meet a lot of interesting people as a bartender. But I'm an artist."

"That's cool. Have you done shows?"

"A few. In fact I have one coming up next month."

"I would love to see your work."

"You should come." I took a sip of my tea. Mark was slightly leaning towards me across the table, which was a good thing if all those magazines were right. Maybe this could work. Perhaps he had already done it. I mean he worked in IT, it would easy for him to do it. And he was here despite of everything that he had found. Yet, that still small voice in my head was saying fat chance. So that's it then?

"Why did you choose bar-tending?"

"Why does anybody do anything? I wanted to."

"But bar-tending can't be easy."

"Nothing in life is easy. And I am fascinated by everything, even the things some people consider dull or boring," I replied.

"That's interesting."

"I'm a never say never kind of person."

"Doesn't that come down to how far you're willing to go?"

"Everybody has limits. But the thing to remember is there are some limits you can across and others if you do, you can never come back."

"How do you differentiate?"

"Me, personally, anything that reflects on me is old news but my family's reputation is a different matter."

"There's a lot more to you than meets the eye," Mark said with a smile.

"You have no idea."

I then excused myself to use the restroom. I didn't really have to but this was the test. All I had to do was wait long enough to fool Mark and when I went out, if he was still there than there was hope for me. But the odds were 1 to 21. I looked at myself in the mirror and ran my hand through my long, dark hair.

"He's probably gone by now, Rejoyla," I told myself.

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders before I walked out. I held my breath as my table came into view and let it out when I saw that it was empty. No. 22. I swallowed and walked over to the table to pick up my bag. Just as I was leaving, the barista came over to pick up our tray. She looked at me sympathetically.

"Sorry, sweetie. Maybe there was an emergency and he had to leave right away," she said. Really, pity from complete strangers, that's all that was left.

"Trust me, there wasn't an emergency."

"You have to give him a chance. He was on his phone right before he left." I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but it wasn't helping. If anything, I was getting angrier.

"And that is why I hate technology and believe that whoever invented the Internet should rot in hell."

Okay, so it was a bit dramatic, but that's how I was feeling. With that, I stormed out of the coffee shop. This was it, wasn't it? Not a single guy in eight years has stuck around long enough for the date to end. I didn't want eternal love or marriage. I just wanted a guy who would be there when I turned around. Unfortunately, that was asking for too much. I was going to die a spinster. And I didn't even like cats.

2: Temporary Madness

"Okay, it's official. There is something fundamentally unlovable and undate-able about me," I said, as I walked into the foyer and closed the door behind me. I was seriously hoping that someone heard my cry. But it seemed unlikely because my mother and aunt were at a charity gala. Apparently, one couldn't have a charity gala without Meredith Meyer—my mother—being there. And this would be the time to mention that I was really rich; like Oprah plus Bill Gates plus Donald Trump rich.

I had just taken off my coat when our housekeeper came out of the parlor.

"Miss Meyer, I'll take your coat. Your mother and aunt are in the parlor."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ryan," I said. I handed her my coat and walked into the parlor.

"Rejoyla, there is nothing unlovable about you. We love you," Mom said. She and my aunt were sitting on the couch sipping tea, as per their nightly before-dinner tradition. I sat down on the couch across from them and put my feet up on the table.

"You love me out of default. I'm your daughter and your niece," I said, looking at Mom and my aunt.

"That's ridiculous! Your uncles don't particularly care about you," Aunt Wendy said.

"Wendy!" Mom reprimanded.

"It's not like she doesn't know," Aunt Wendy said defensively.

I rolled my eyes. "Do I have to find another mother and aunt to spill my heart to? I only do it on few occasions."

"We're sorry, sweetie. Go ahead, talk to us. It didn't work out with Mark?"

"I hate men!"

"Welcome to the club, kiddo," Aunt Wendy said, raising her cup to me. She had gone through a really bitter divorce about a decade ago and it had left a nasty after taste. And my mother had never married. Although I don't think it's because she hates men.

"I was against this date from the start. I don't know why you keep doing this. So what happened?" Mom said.

"The same thing that happened on the last 21 dates; we had a nice conversation, I went to the restroom and when I came out he was gone."

"Maybe there was an emergency," Aunt Wendy said. I rolled my eyes again.

"That's what the barista said, but there wasn't an emergency. I went to the restroom and he googled me or went on Facebook or Twitter. He found out that I am rich that I have an IQ of a 187, I have a degree in Rocket Science and Anthropology and a PhD. in Art History and I did all of that before I could even legally drink. And that's not even mentioning my bizarre work history. It doesn't sound that bad when you're reading about it, but when you actually meet me you think I'm a freak," I exclaimed. I pulled my hair back and tied it in a ponytail.  Yes, I was smart and could be competitive sometimes and I came off as an overachiever, but that didn't mean that I didn't deserve to have a boyfriend. Where was that guy who could just accept me for me, degrees and IQ and all? Was he even out there, maybe wondering the same thing I was?

"Honey, you are extraordinary. I don't understand why you're willing to settle for just any guy. It is my strong belief that whoever you're meant to be with is going to be just as amazing as you are," Mom said. I knew she was saying that because she's my mother, but it still felt nice to hear. Hopefully, there was a guy out there waiting for me.

"Didn't Mark have any accomplishments?" Aunt Wendy asked.

"We didn't talk about that. All I know is that he works at Lockwood Inc.," I said.

"Ugh!"

"What's wrong?"

"Let me tell you something, if you ever meet a Lockwood, turn tail and run. They're crazy," she said.

"They are not crazy," Mom said.

"Are you forgetting what Benedict Lockwood did at the Twohey's Christmas party last year?" Aunt Wendy asked. Mom winced. It must have been pretty bad to make Mom cringe.

"And that son of his married that lingerie model. Don't you remember the drama at their wedding? It was in the news for weeks."

"Okay, I get it. The Lockwood's are the Joker to our Batman. Captain Kirk to our Spock. Darth Vader to our Luke Skywalker. Man, I am such a nerd!"

"Yes, but a very beautiful nerd," Mom said.

"And smart is the new sexy," Aunt Wendy chimed in.

"Awesome. Now find me a guy while believes all of that and is willing to get to know me in person and not through social media."

Mom and Aunt Wendy looked at each other. Hopefully, they were trying to come up with a list of guys I could date. I was frustrated and angry but I've never given up on anything. So how could I give up finding the guy with whom I'm meant to share my life?

I got up and left the parlor for my studio. Surely painting will take my mind off the mid-life crisis I was having at twenty-three. I was thinking about it too much; that could be the problem. Life is going to happen whether I try or not, so I will meet him. Just for the record, this isn't me giving up.  This is my epiphany.

I had just settled on my stool to finish the painting I had started last week when Mom and Aunt Wendy came in.

"Honey, we were just wondering, what is it that you want," Mom said. I mixed two colors together on the palette.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you say that you want a relationship, but what do you want in a relationship?" Aunt Wendy explained. I looked at them blankly. How could I have skipped over the most important question? This changed everything. And I had no idea what I wanted.

"When I was married to Richard we went out of our way to avoid each other. I ignored it at first because every couple has problems. But when I tried to make it better, I realized that I was the only one fighting to save our marriage. For him it was just a piece of paper and he took me for granted. And I realized that I didn't want that," Aunt Wendy said. That made perfect sense to me. I definitely didn't want a guy to take me for granted. I looked at Mom for her experience. She pushed her hair back and I knew she was looking for a way out. She got that way every time I asked her about her relationships. It wasn't because she didn't want to tell me. It was because she didn't know who my father is, so she avoided the topic entirely.

"Alright, fine. I'll tell you what I want. I...I don't want us to be breathing down each other’s necks. I need my space. However, I would still want him to know those moments when he needs to be there and an excuse just won't cut it. We can take each other for granted but we still keep each other on our toes. I want our relationship to be steady and stable but also exciting. I don't believe in the Hallmark variety of love and put very little faith in love in general, but he should make me want to. And it's not just about what he can do for me. It's about what we can do for each other."

Mom and Aunt Wendy exchanged looks again. It annoyed me to no end when they did that.

"I don't want to tell you this sweetie, but you're never going to find this guy," Aunt Wendy said.

"Seriously?"

"The guy you want is too perfect and only you can be that perfect," Mom said. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"That's what you guys don't understand, what none of the 22 understood. My perfect guy isn't perfect and neither am I."

Mrs. Ryan knocked on the open door before Mom or Aunt Wendy said anything.

"Dinner's ready."

"Thank you, we'll be right down," Mom said. Then she looked at me with that expression that said she had no idea what I was doing because I was a dreamer but she hoped I was right and she supported me. I hoped I was right too.

——————

"Did you ask Mrs. Lockwood if this girl is real and not made up?"

I took the coffee cup from the barista and turned to face my best friend. He was enjoying the talk of my marriage or rather, my impending doom. I know that sounds dramatic, but that is exactly what it was. No one understood it though.

"Yes, I did. She's real."

Ethan and I walked out of the coffee shop and started walking towards the Lockwood Inc. building.

"Okay, but why this girl? Why not any other girl? Why not Leslie?" Ethan asked. I sighed. Leslie, Ethan and I had grown up together and as such there are some unresolved issues between Leslie and me. Those issues only worsened when we started dating and it didn't end well because Leslie wanted what every other girl I had dated wanted; for us to get married. Somehow, they all thought they were the one when I had never given them any such indication.

"You know why it's not Leslie. Nana thinks Rejoyla will straighten me out, like I'm some errant child," I said. Ethan nodded.

"You do need to be straightened out."

"Whose side are you on?"

Ethan stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Look, we both know that Mrs. Lockwood is rarely wrong when it comes to judging people. And this is you we are talking about. Mrs. Lockwood is not going to find just any girl for you, so this girl must be really special."

I had gone over that last night when I was lying awake in bed. It still didn't make me feel any better about meeting this girl or agreeing to marry her.

"I get that, but she's a bartender."

"That just means that she's hot."

We started walking again and instead of going towards the office building, we turned the other way. There was a park at the end of the road where we had spent countless hours growing up. Ethan and I found an empty bench facing the lake and sat down.

"She’s still a bartender," I said.

"I thought Mrs. Lockwood said that Rejoyla is more than just a bartender," Ethan pointed out.

"What's more?"

"She's twenty-three, probably still in college. She's just working as a bartender to pay off her student loans."

"And I should swoop in with a marriage proposal and offer to pay it off for her? I don't want another person in my life that cares for me for my money."

"Okay, one, that's what pre-nups are for. Two, I'm not saying you should marry her. Just meet her, maybe she'll surprise you," Ethan said. I took a sip of my coffee and shook my head.

"I really doubt that."

"You're twenty-nine; if life doesn't catch you by surprise any more than it's time to re-evaluate things. Maybe get new priorities," Ethan said. He was right. How could I not want anything out of life anymore? I haven't seen everything that life has to offer. I didn’t have to marry Rejoyla because in the end it was my decision.

"Alright, I'll go see her tonight, hopefully she'll be working. And you're coming with me," I said.

"And do what? Be the third wheel? I'm not interested."

"This is your idea."

"No, this is your grandmother's idea. You should take her."

"She's attending a dinner party."

Ethan sighed.

"Fine, I'll go with you. But I'm not going to talk."

He'll talk, that's I was bringing him along. Now all we had to do was wait until tonight to see what made Rejoyla so special.

3: The Bar & Grill

Barcelona was playing on the speakers in the Bar & Grill and I was leaning against the counter, talking to my fellow bartender, Mindy. It was my last night working here. While I was going to miss having insight into people's lives, I had been a bartender for two months and it was time to move on.

Now I know some people wonder why I even take such jobs, especially when I don't need to work at all. I am not just a snotty rich girl. I don't think that I can be. All those jobs, like being a bartender, working at a bakery, as a librarian or teaching English to kids in India and Africa, I did those things for the opportunity to connect with people from different walks of life.

Take Mindy, for example. She was thirty-three and had a five year old son. She was smart but had a love-hate relationship with education. She graduated college nonetheless, and found a good job. Then she fell in love, had a son and now she's a bartender. The guy she fell in love with had a criminal past and somehow, it had found its way to Mindy. She lost her job, her house and had to relocate. And he didn't work so she had to find whatever job she could to put food on the table. She couldn't waste time finding the job of her dreams. Despite all of that, she was happy. She believed that things will turn around.

"Hey, Mindy, you worked in HR before, right?"

Mindy looked up from the glass she was cleaning.

"Yeah, why?"

 "What would you say to a job interview in the HR department at a publishing company?"

Mindy looked at me in surprise. I blinked back at her.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! It's not the job but an interview is pretty damn close. You have so much potential and you should be more than a bartender. It's my parting gift to you," I said. Mindy laughed and pulled me into a hug. I patter her back awkwardly. I didn't like being touched, at all. Mindy pulled back.

"Thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet. And I know that it's none of my business--"

"--but I should dump my boyfriend on his ass. Trust me the second I find a better job, he's out. I just want enough money to find a good lawyer if he goes to court for full custody of Benny," Mindy said.

"Good."

I gave Mindy the card of the lady at the publishing company. People are really so friendly when I tell them who I am. Nobody wants to go up against my mother, no matter how powerful they are. She had to establish her worth in a male driven profession and I love to watch those businessmen squirm in front of her. When my mother got mad, everybody ran for the hills. Except for me; she never gets mad at me.

We got busy for a while and I concentrated on making drinks. The guy sitting at the end of the bar took turns hitting on Mindy and me but we both ignored him. I was pouring beer for a guy when Mindy elbowed me in the ribs and nodded towards the entrance. I looked over and saw a guy standing there. He was well dressed in expensive clothes and the collar of his coat was turned up. He was good looking.

"Why don't guys like him come here often?" Mindy asked.

"Because guys like him don't drink cheap beer," I replied.

"Touché."

I gave the beer to the man who had ordered it and when I turned around, he was sitting on a barstool. I looked at Mindy and she titled her head towards him, telling me to talk to him.

"What can I get you?" I asked. He smiled at me.

"I'm looking for Rejoyla. Is she working today?" He asked. I raised an eyebrow, before I carefully looked at him again. I was sure that I had never met him before or seen him for that matter. I sincerely hoped Aunt Wendy hasn't set me up again. The last time was a disaster.

"Why?"

"It's a personal matter," he said. I crossed my arms across my chest.

"I sincerely doubt that," I said. I was as deadpan as I could possibly be. I didn't like people beating around the bush. I saw realization dawn on his face.

"You're Rejoyla," he said.

"Joy. And I've never met you before," I said.

"I know. I'm Ethan Ducane."

"As in Ducane Consulting?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"You don't exactly dress like the average man."

And my mother had also mentioned an Ethan Ducane of Ducane Consulting, but I didn’t tell him that. Ethan looked guilty like I was blaming him. But I was hardly in a position to do so. And what reason would I have to blame him?

"So what do you want from me?" I asked. Ethan looked around the bar.

"Not here. What time do you get off work?"

I sighed and placed both my hands on the counter.  I leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. 

"Do you realize how creepy this is?"

"Trust me, I do," Ethan said. He placed his arms on the counter and leaned forward.

"Then why are you here?"

"I didn't really have a choice."

"Did someone put a gun to your head and make you come in here?"

"No."

"Then you had a choice."

"Yes, and I choose to come in here. Look, this is a shot in the dark but will you give me a chance? We'll explain everything."

I straightened and stepped away from the counter. He seemed like a nice guy; however I had been burned once already. And the scars refused to fade or heal.

"And I think you'll understand why I have to say no,” I said. He looked disappointed but he nodded.

"Of course."

He looked at me one last time and then he got up and left. Mindy came up to me immediately, asking for details. I told her what he wanted and what I said. Mindy rolled her eyes.

"Even the nice ones can be so creepy. Maybe you should have Ted walk you out after your shift. That guy could be in the parking lot waiting for you," Mindy suggested.

"No, I'll be fine. Don't worry," I said. Ted was our manager and truth be told I didn't like the way he watched me. And that’s another thing I've learned, the world is full of people like Ted. I had first-hand experience. But what Mindy didn't know was that my bodyguard was sitting in a tinted car in the parking lot. I was sure that Ethan wouldn't come back but if he did, I'll be safe.

I spent the last hour of my shift concentrating on making and serving drinks. I put Ethan out of my mind, but I was curious. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? A personal matter? And who had he come with? Why were people so confusing?

At the end of my shift, I hugged Mindy and told her to call me when she got the job, as I was sure that she would. I walked out through the back door like I always did but tonight there was someone waiting for me by the dumpsters.

It wasn't Ethan. I recognized him as one of the regulars at the bar. I prayed that this wasn't happening again, which was saying a lot because I wasn't religious. And it seemed like nobody was listening to me because Shawn came straight at me. He pinned me against the walk and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. And just as I was getting ready to knee him in the groin, he was gone. Someone had pulled him off me.

——————

"We've been waiting here for over an hour, Chace. Joy didn't tell me when she was getting off work," Ethan said. I ignored him like I had been doing for the past hour. His opinion of Rejoyla, or Joy, as he kept calling her, was similar to my grandmother's. There was more to her than met the eye. Regardless to say, I had grown curious. I wanted to catch a glimpse of this extraordinary woman.

"If you want to see her, why don't you just go inside?" Ethan asked.

"If I wanted to go inside I wouldn't have asked you to go. And you weren't in there for five minutes when someone tweeted that you were chatting up the bartender," I said. Leslie had called and told me about it. She had set up her computer that if ever our names popped up in social media, she would get the link. She thought that someone should, lest the matter get out of hand. I told her that's what the IT department was for. I had my trusted IT guy who monitored social media for such stories.

"So we just sit here until last call?"

"Precisely."

I looked out the windshield. I had parked in a spot where I could see the front and the back of the Bar & Grill, not knowing which exit Rejoyla will use.

I saw a man leaning against the dumpsters and even from here I could sense that his intentions weren't right. And just as I thought that the back door opened and a woman stepped out. I didn't think about what I was doing. I opened my door and got out of the car.

"Chace, what the hell are you doing?" Ethan called after me. I ignored him and ran towards the back alley just as the man pinned the woman against the wall. I got there just in time and pulled him off of her. He was drunk, I could smell the alcohol. I punched him in the face before he even registered what was going on. He fell back against the dumpster and slumped forward, unconscious. I turned back to the woman and got my breath knocked out of my lungs, like I had been the one to get punched. I had never seen anyone so beautiful.

She was so strong and vulnerable at the same time. Instinctively, I knew that she was Rejoyla. Her dark hair was pulled off her face and in a ponytail. She was pale and had soft, rosy lips. Her eyes were the grey color of clouds on a stormy day and so beautiful. And the thing that made her even more beautiful to me was the small scar on her left cheekbone. It was almost invisible but I could make it out in the dim light.

"If you think I'm going to be impressed, you should know that I don't particularly go for the knight in shining armor thing. But thank you for doing that," she said, nodding towards the unconscious man.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was just about to knee him in the groin, so you saved him," she said.

"Well, had known you intention, I wouldn't have."

She smiled at me.

"I'm Joy."

"Chace."

Joy nodded. "I know. I think every girl knows who Chace Lockwood is."

I frowned. That was disappointing. They all knew me because of my money. And if that's why Joy knew me, than this couldn't be.

"Joy, are you okay?" Ethan asked, running up to us. From the look on her face she was not happy to see Ethan.

"Ethan, what are you still doing here?"

"Ask him," Ethan said, pointing at me. Rejoyla looked at me with narrowed eyes.

"Of course. Now usually, I'm an open minded person but just last night my aunt told me that if I ever met a Lockwood, I should turn tail and run because they are crazy. And this is one of those occasions I'm choosing to listen to her," Joy said. I was surprised and pleased that she didn't just know me because of my money. On the other hand, she, like many others, thought that my family was crazy. Unfortunately, their behavior was not worth defending and I wouldn't have minded seeing them in strait jackets, so I let it go. Though I had a feeling that it was time I talked to them before they ruined the Lockwood family name completely.

"Wait, now that we all know each other maybe we can have that conversation?" Ethan suggested.

"No, I don't think so," Rejoyla said simply, shaking her head. And then she started walking away. I followed after her. I don't know why but I couldn't let her walk away.

"Look, I understand your skepticism. I'm not one to trust people easily. However, you can only trust someone if you know them and you just said that you're an open minded person. Also, I'm the least crazy Lockwood you're ever likely to meet," I said. She smiled a little and bit her lip. I looked at Ethan and he was looking at me like he had never met me before. Of course, I had never gone out of my way to make a woman talk to me before.

"You know, I'm used to being the one who makes the good arguments and getting my way. It's the result of having Wendy Meyer for an aunt, I tell you. But I concede. It's strange. I've never conceded to anyone before," Rejoyla said, cocking her head to the side. She really seemed surprised at that.

Then she pointed across the road to the coffee shop. "We can talk there." 

She started walking again and Ethan and I stared after her in confusion. She was Wendy Meyer’s niece?  

"Wait, wouldn't that make you a Meyer?" Ethan called after her. Rejoyla stopped walking and looked over her shoulder at us.

"Of course. Did you think that I was just some bartender? You should mark this day in your calendars. This is the first time I've admitted to being Rejoyla Meyer."

She continued walking and we followed after her, still in shock. Why was Rejoyla working has a bartender if she was a Meyer? I could vaguely recall reading something about Rejoyla Meyer but it wasn't coming back to me.

"Well, she's definitely more than just a bartender," Ethan said. Yes, she was a Meyer. I don't know what Nana was thinking. She obviously knew that Rejoyla was a Meyer and yet she wanted me to marry her. What were we supposed to be, some quasi Romeo and Juliet? And Nana was our Shakespeare, writing our story. Is that what we were heading towards, a tragic love story?

But as we reached the coffee shop and Rejoyla turned to look at me, I saw it in her eyes. She was no Juliet. She was innocent, yet intelligent and was never going to say yes.

4: Quasi Romeo & Juliet

"Yes."

I blinked at Rejoyla, completely dumbstruck. I was vaguely aware of Ethan staring at her just like I was. She sat with the regality of a Queen. Her back was ramrod straight and she had one leg tucked behind the other. She wore a perfectly serious expression like was doing business and not agreeing to marry a man she had met mere fifteen minutes ago.

And that is what I couldn't wrap my head around. I had walked into the coffee shop thinking an intelligent woman like Rejoyla would never say yes. Yet, she had. The woman sitting across from me was different from the one I had met in the alley.

"Joy, I don't think you understand completely. Chace is asking you to marry him. Well, technically, it was his grandmother's idea,” Ethan said. Rejoyla sighed and put her coffee cup on the small table between us. I had insisted she get tea, thinking she might be in shock after what happened. She had looked at me and said she despised people who assumed they knew what she wanted better than herself. I was amused, and I had gotten her the coffee.

She placed her hands on her lap, one on top of the other. She licked her lips before she spoke.

"I know what he's asking. And I know what I said," she said simply. She was looking directly at me, as if she was trying to read my expressions.

"When I asked you to talk to us earlier, you said no. You said what I was asking was creepy. Yet here you are agreeing to marry a man you don't even know. You're agreeing to spend the rest of your life with him," Ethan countered.

Rejoyla shrugged a shoulder and still she didn't look away from me.

"I'm a complicated person."

"This doesn't make any sense," I said.

"This is coming from the guy who just asked me to marry him," Rejoyla said. I opened my mouth to argue that but there was no argument. I had, technically, just asked her to marry me and she had said yes. That made her just as crazy as me.

"That's crazy," Ethan said.

"Okay, three things. One, crazy is not a recognized psychological term. Two, I'm not crazy, I'm eccentric. And three, do you really believe that a same woman can survive a day with the Lockwood's?"

She was right, again.

"You have a good point," I said.

"I always do."

It seemed like she had a perfectly logical reason for agreeing to the marriage, though she wasn't sharing it with us. It still didn't seem right to me. Why would a woman like Rejoyla agree to marry a complete stranger?

"You should know that I don't make illogical decisions. I'll let you ponder over that while I go to the restroom," she said. She got up and walked to the back of the coffee shop. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, Ethan pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"A web search for Rejoyla Meyer. I want to know if she's ever been admitted into a psychiatric institute," Ethan said.

"That's a violation of her privacy. And if I can ask a complete stranger to marry me, why can't she agree to it? She's not any crazier than I am at the moment," I said. Ethan nodded but I knew that he wasn't listening to me. I wasn't going to deny my curiosity; Rejoyla was a fascinating woman. But I would rather get to know her in person instead of what the Internet told me. 

I looked at Ethan and he was looking at the screen of his phone with an amused expression.

"What is it?"

He looked at me.

"I thought this was a violation of her privacy."

"If it's on the Internet it's not private."

Ethan nodded in agreement.

"It's a magazine article from two years ago. It's her biography. Joy was home schooled because she was terrified of talking to people. She graduated high school at eleven. She has a double major in Rocket Science and Anthropology and a PhD. in Art History. She's an artist and has been painting since she was six and doing exhibits since she was eleven. Oh, and she has an IQ of 187," Ethan read.

I sat back, surprised and amused. Nana was right. There is a lot more to Rejoyla and she is certainly not just a bartender. Why is she working as one, then?

"I think you should marry her. You're never going to find anyone like her," Ethan said. I didn't have time to reply because Rejoyla was coming back. He was right I was never going to find anyone like her. She was beautiful and smart, yet she was humble—for the most part. And more than that, I would have liked to spend my life with her.

Rejoyla took her seat and looked at Ethan and me expectantly. Ethan looked at me. Rejoyla sighed.

"I'll tell you what, why don't we sleep on it? We can have brunch tomorrow at Machiavelli’s. Meet me at 11:30 and don't be late. I have no patience for people who keep me waiting," Rejoyla said. Then she stood up and reached for her bag. I started to get up.

"I'll walk you to your car."

"That won't be necessary. Jones is here," she said. Behind her, a man dressed in black stood up from his table and walked up behind her. Of course, I was wondering how Meredith Meyer let her daughter out of the house without security.

"Until tomorrow then, Mr. Lockwood," she said. I looked up and into her intelligent grey eyes.

"Until tomorrow."

"Bye, Ethan."

"Bye."

She walked out of the coffee shop, followed by her security. Ethan and I stared after her.

"When was the last time someone talked to you that way? Most people are afraid of you, but she talks to you like she's your boss," Ethan said with a laugh.

I looked out the window as Rejoyla's car pulled out of the parking lot. I suddenly found myself hoping that it was morning and I could see her again.

——————

I used the back door to enter the house, while Jones parked the car. It was Friday, the one day when Mom cooked dinner. She and Aunt Wendy were in the kitchen when I came in.

Mom looked up from whatever she was making.

"Hi, honey. How was your last day?"

"Uneventful, until the end."

"What happened?"

"Well, I was attacked—"

"What?"

Mom and Aunt Wendy both dropped their work and moved towards me to looked me over. They were so protective. I took both their hands.

"I'm fine. Let me finish. I was attacked and just as I was getting ready to fight back I was saved. And then my savior asked to marry me," I finished. Mom pulled me into a tight hug.

"Thank god nothing happened."

"Was this guy crazy, asking you to marry him?" Aunt Wendy asked with a laugh. She rubbed my back comfortingly.

"It was Chace Lockwood," I said. I looked at Aunt Wendy around Mom's shoulder.

"That's a resounding yes," she said and rolled her eyes. I wonder what she’s going when I tell her my answer.

I hugged Mom tightly and swallowed.

"I said yes."

"What?!"

Mom pushed me back and held me at arm's length   She was looking at me like I was...crazy, for lack of a better word. Honestly, did this whole situation only make sense to me?

"Chace Lockwood asked to marry me and I said yes."

Mom and Aunt Wendy just stared me. I focused on Mom but her face was blank. She must have been feeling something but she wasn't letting it show. Then I looked at Aunt Wendy and she just seemed confused. And then Mom sighed and turned to Aunt Wendy.

"Let me speak to her alone," she said. I felt a lecture coming on. At least she was reacting.

Aunt Wendy looked at me before she left the kitchen and Mom let go of me. She moved to the breakfast table, pulled out a chair and sat down. I kneeled in front of her.

"Joy, baby, I know you don't think like the rest of us and that's amazing. I like to follow the rules and you see them as more of a guideline. But this just too much. I have always let you do whatever you wanted but I am pleading with you not to do this. You don't know him, Joy. This is absolutely crazy, even for you."

I got up off the floor because my knees were starting to hurt, and pulled out a chair. I put it in front of Mom and sat down and I took her hands in mine.

"Have you ever met him?" I asked.

"No."

"I have, and granted it was for no more than thirty minutes. But there's something about him, Mom. He's different, sincere; I saw it in his eyes. Have you ever looked someone, a complete stranger, in the eyes and known that he can make you happy because he understands the value of true happiness? It is not to be cheaply won."

Mom took away one of her hand and pushed my hair behind my ear.

"How can you be so young, yet so old?"

I smiled and kissed her hand.

"Our families have never gotten along," she said.

"Just because they haven't doesn't mean they can't," I said.

"You know he's asking you to marry him because his grandmother likes you, not Chace."

"Doesn't mean it can't work out. Parents in India have been picking out their children's life partners for generations and it has been working out pretty well for them, if you take the country's population into account."

Mom sighed and I could see that she was searching for an argument. She was going to do everything she could to make me change my mind. I was an adult and she couldn't just look me in my room until I changed my mind. Chace and I might be some quasi Romeo and Juliet but I didn't think he was going to climb a balcony for me.

"Look, we're meeting tomorrow for brunch and I'll only give him a definite answer after we iron out all the details," I said. Mom frowned.

"What details?"

"You leave that up to me. Now, do I get dinner or are you hoping starving me will solve the problem?"

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I always know what I'm doing."

Mom raised an eyebrow. I let out a breath and smiled.

“Okay, I know what I’m doing most of the time. But it applies in this case.”

I kissed her on the cheek just as Aunt Wendy came back into the kitchen.

"Oh, she's changed her mind?"

"No, she still wants to marry him," Mom said. She got up and went back to the stove. There was a plate of strawberries on the table and I picked it up and popped one in my mouth.

"What? Why? There are so many guys in the world. Why would you want to marry a Lockwood?" Aunt Wendy asked me.

"You should know. You wanted to marry one," Mom said before I could say anything. I choked on a strawberry.

"What? Just last night you were telling me they're a family of crazies!"

"They are, now; before they were cruel. And I was nineteen, I didn't know any better," Aunt Wendy said, defensively.

"Okay, so why didn't you get married? And what do you mean they were cruel?" I asked, taking a seat on a breakfast stool. Aunt Wendy sat down beside me.

"Because a relationship between a Lockwood and a Meyer would never work out. We're too different. The only thing Lockwood's and Meyer's do is fight. And it's because the Lockwood's are cowards," Aunt Wendy said. That's a strong opinion. I looked at Mom and she was watching me. Okay, so my mother and aunt had a different opinion of the Lockwood's than I did. I'd only met one, and he didn't seem that cruel; just sad.

"Why do you believe that?" I asked Aunt Wendy.

"Oh, it's a long story," she said.

"Should I make popcorn, then?"

She smirked. But Mom was the one who started talking.

"Your grandfather and Chace's grandfather, James Lockwood Sr., were friends. Our Aunt Emily was supposed to be married to James. Everyone knew that James' mother didn't approve of the marriage but she didn't say anything at the time of the engagement, so everyone was happy. Then the night before the wedding, a letter arrived for Emily from James. His mother had asked him to call off the wedding because she knew that Emily wasn't the right woman for him. Everyone was upset and Dad tried talking to James, all to no avail."

I was speechless. Aunt Wendy was right, that was cruel and cowardly. How could they play with someone's feelings?

"But, I didn't even know you two had an aunt."

Aunt Wendy took in a deep breath and started talking.

"A month later, James married Althea. Emily loved James and she was heartbroken. Two weeks after the wedding, she killed herself. Dad was so upset he punched James when he came to Emily's funeral. He blamed James and his mother for Emily's death and said the Lockwood's had ridiculed our family. He never spoke to James again and when I wanted to marry Benedict, Dad locked me in my room and told me if I wanted to be a part of this family, I would forget Benedict. And that was when he told me about Emily."

The three of us sat in silence. I felt close to tears and I never cried. How can anyone be so cruel? Especially if you love someone. That's why I didn't have any faith in love. A relationship always came down to trust. As long as two people trusted each other, they could have a long and healthy relationship.

"So the weight of that tragedy has been hanging on our families for all these years," I said.

"But you're right. Just because it didn't work out then, doesn't mean it won't work out now. You and Chace are not Emily and James and you're not doing it for love," Mom said. I nodded.

"Don't worry, we're going to talk about it tomorrow," I said. I don't know whether Chace knew this story or not but I would tell him. My bigger concern was Althea Lockwood's decision to have me marry Chace. Was guilt guiding her decision? Or did she really just believe that I will be perfect for her grandson?