“Don’t burn the place down,” Jack said, going for his jacket.
A few tense and disappointing weeks passed for Cameron with no word from Brandy after their night together. Story of my life, he thought. It seemed that every time he found a woman who came to life in his arms, a woman he could fall in love with, she disappeared before he could grab hold of her.
He went back to the Davenport when the same bartender was on duty. Cameron didn’t know the bartender’s name, but the latter addressed him personally. “How you doing, Doc? Get you something?”
“Yeah, I sure hope so. You remember the woman I met here a few weeks ago? I haven’t been in here since then.”
“Vaguely,” he said with a shrug that was very telling. Cameron was sure he remembered exactly, as the bar had been nearly empty, but it was his job not to see things.
“I’m trying to find her. I didn’t get her name.”
“Sorry, Doc. Neither did I.”
“Well, how’d she pay for her drink before I got here?”
“Signed for it. She was a guest.”
“Thank God! Can you go through your receipts? Anything?”
“That,” he said gravely, “would get me fired.”
“She said she was at a wedding. What are the chances I can find out what wedding?”
“The manager might give you the names on the billing. There was a marquee up in the lobby. Last names won’t tell you anything much, but I bet if you called the newspaper, you could find out if they published an announcement.”
That was Cameron’s next quest, and it proved easy enough. Of course it didn’t turn up any information about the woman to end his search, but he managed to learn it was the Jorgensen-Benson wedding, Joe Benson being an architect in Grants Pass.
He went to Joe’s firm, handed him a business card and said, “I met one of your wedding guests in the bar at the Davenport the night of your wedding. Her name was Brandy and I didn’t get a last name. I’d like to ask her out. Can you help me?”
“Brandy? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“You sure? Beautiful woman, about five-three, dark blond or real light brown hair and large, dark eyes. Thirty-one, wearing a gold dress…”
“Buddy,” he laughed. “You just described half the women at the wedding. The bridesmaids wore gold. My wife was a flight attendant and the place was crawling with gorgeous women about that age. How’d you lose track of her?”
“You don’t want to know,” Cameron said, looking down briefly. “Turns out I’m not real slick with women anymore.”
“Doc, I’m sorry. I’ll keep your card and ask my wife. Will that help?”
“Not enough, but I’ll take it. Did most of the people at your wedding come from Grants Pass?”
“No, as a matter of fact—most came from out of town. My family is here but Nikki’s family is from San Francisco. And her girlfriends are from everywhere. Literally.”
Cameron was quiet for a minute. “She and I really hit it off.”
“Yet you didn’t get her name and number?” Joe asked.
Cameron laughed without humor. “She asked that I let her get in touch with me. And she hasn’t. I have no idea why. Really, it was…” He gulped. “I have no idea why,” he repeated.
Joe put his hands in his pockets, looked down and shook his head. “Believe me, pal. I feel your pain. I’m just not sure I can help.”
“But you’ll ask your wife?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Cameron said.
A few days later he called Joe only to be told that Mrs. Benson had no friends at the party named Brandy. The description of the woman he was looking for could match three of her girlfriends, all married.
The possibilities were endless. She made up her name, maybe she’d had a fight with the husband, it could be a real complicated divorce. Or maybe she was rethinking the divorce. Or he was. If he had a brain, that SOB wouldn’t let her go.
Whatever the truth was, she didn’t intend to get in touch, or she would have.
That’s it, Cameron said to himself. I’m through. I’m done. No more talking to pretty, lonely girls in bars.
He realized this did nothing to put him in a carefree mood. One of his partners remarked that he’d seemed depressed lately. He brushed him off, saying it was nothing, but he knew what it was. She had disappeared into thin air. He kept asking himself why. Everything he remembered about that night told him they had a chance together. He had concentrated on treating her as though she was the most special human being alive, and in fact, it hadn’t taken any effort. She had been.