Once Upon a Text

By Diane M. Pratt

Tripp has his sights set only on Merry.

Merry has her sights set only on Warren.

Warren has his sights set only on his laptop monitor.

Can a text sent to a wrong number be the catalyst that guides each of them to where they were meant to be all along?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diane M. Pratt
• Release date: Oct 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215485040

Diane M. Pratt

Diane M. Pratt lives on Cape Cod where she avoids the summer traffic by hiding at home with her trusty laptop, long-suffering husband, and all the chocolate she can find. Escaping from reality in a romance novel, the ultimate goal a happy ending, is her idea of a good read.  

Book preview

Chapter 1

Agirl can only admire a guy from afar for so long before something has to give. For too long now, maybe even as long as a year, Merry Enright had had her eyes on Warren Sherman, whose desk was on the opposite side of the combined Engineering and Sales office, and for some reason Warren hadn’t yet caught on that she was interested.

She was well aware she could have marched herself over there at any point and asked the man to dinner, but she wasn’t quite ready to face what could very well turn out to be a rejection of the most humiliating kind, with witnesses by colleagues at the neighboring desks to boot, but really, didn’t the man feel her stares every time she either approached or left her desk, before she plopped herself down and her view of him was obstructed by the desks filled with people between them?

She’d shared her frustration with Kimmie, her gorgeous bestie who never had any lack of men asking her out, on prominent display as she was, working as a shift supervisor at the food court in the Rigby Mall. At Merry’s request, Kimmie was always sharing stories of who’d asked her out that day, and no matter which day it was, there was always a story. Kimmie was lovely, with a charming personality, and if she weren’t Merry’s BFF, Merry might be just a tiny bit envious.

Actually, she was a tiny bit envious. Some days she was even a lot envious and today seemed to be shaping up to one of those days. Kimmie didn’t accept very many of the dating requests because she had standards not many men could meet, but she was always gracious in her refusals. Merry could attest to that, having seen Kimmie in action on multiple occasions, either ringing up a lunch order, preparing a sandwich, or busing a table in the busy dining area. Kimmie did it all, and always with a smile, and Merry often wished she could be more like her. But alas, the day they were handing out sweet personalities, Merry had probably been distracted by some shiny object, or perhaps even a chocolate whoopie pie, the giant kind she could only find at the Sweet Cakes’ bakery at the mall, therefore she’d only received the standard issue, one size fits all personality.

So she wouldn’t complain to Kimmie today about Warren’s continued lack of interest, deciding to give her a break. But she hadn’t complained to Sasha for a while, and she knew Sasha was always in the mood to hear Merry’s romance-deprivation stories. Or at least she used to be. Since Sasha had decided to move halfway across the country, from Rigby, Massachusetts all the way to the mid-west somewhere, all because Julian, her boyfriend of a year, took a job there, Merry had to confine her communications to the electronic type. Specifically texting, because when Sasha moved, she decided to slam the door on her past which included her old email address. Since she hadn’t had the time to send Merry her new address, Merry limited herself to texts, waiting to hear back whenever Sasha had time to respond. Clearly Sasha hadn’t had time for over a month, since Merry had received only a handful of postcards and not a single text or email since Sasha left and she missed Sasha and her offbeat and slightly loosey-goosey personality. The postcards had been sent along the way as Sasha and Julian hit every weird tourist attraction they could find and all the postcards had made Merry grin. Taking her purse from a desk drawer, she headed for the great outdoors, ready for lunch and a texting session.

After hitting the drive-thru for a burger sans fries, she pulled into a parking space and took a bite, mentally composing her next text before she pulled out her phone. Hello, my friend. Hope you are well. Have I told you about the guy at my office who hasn’t caught on that he needs to ask me out? I hope not, because you’re about to hear it. He’s gorgeous and blissfully unaware of the palpitations he is responsible for. Feel free to ask questions because I’m happy to discuss him at length. Tata

It had been over a week since she’d sent Sasha anything, and she told herself she needed to be better, even if she wasn’t hearing anything back. Sasha wasn’t all that mindful about keeping track of her phone, or at least she hadn’t been when she was living in Rigby, often losing what Merry considered the very extension of her body. Clearly Sasha had been absent the day the vitalness of keeping track of phones’ class had happened, and no matter how many times Merry had explained how important it was to always know where her phone was, Sasha was not able to keep up. Nonetheless, she had promised Sasha she would still text her despite the fact she was moving tens of thousands of miles away, and she needed to continue to keep that promise even if she didn’t hear from Sasha.

TRIPP COLEBROOK READ the text message on his phone, then scrolled up to reread the previous six messages that had come from the same number. He hadn’t responded to any of them since they sure as hell weren’t intended for him, and after receiving the first three, which mostly covered the vast and apparently endlessly fascinating subject of the male gender and its foibles and fallibilities, not to mention the more personal female hormonal issues he was thankful he didn’t suffer through, he’d begun to enjoy the glimpses into the female mind. If he responded saying he wasn’t her target audience the texts would stop, and he wasn’t ready to sever the tie yet.

Glancing around the office to make sure there were no suits in the vicinity, he decided to have a little fun and grinned as he tapped the screen. He didn’t feel he was letting down the team, and he knew his response would send the woman at the other end off on what could be another entertaining tangent.

MERRY’S RETURN TRIP to work was uneventful, and choosing a different parking space just for the heck of it, she eased in her Civic, perfectly aligning it with her new neighbors. Time to return to the old salt mine. Or whatever the modern equivalent of a salt mine was.

As she slid her access card along the pad next to Middleton Engineering’s double glass doors, she felt her phone vibrate. Sasha perhaps? Will wonders never cease, she murmured. She didn’t have time to check now, feeling she was possibly one or two minutes late returning, but maybe she’d have time to read the text later.

But what if she didn’t? Maybe a quick peak wouldn’t hurt. Pulling out her phone, she focused on the screen. Until she felt an impact and her phone was knocked out of her hand. "Oh. Ouch. Looking up from the phone lying on the floor, she saw one of the new engineers, still nameless since she hadn’t officially met him. The man appeared to be more surprised than he usually looked, which was not surprised in the slightest. Sorry? She watched him bend down and scoop up her phone. Thank you."

Guess the lobby isn’t big enough for both of us. Tripp handed the phone to the woman, watching as she held it against her chest. Maybe she thought he wanted a peek at whatever was so fascinating it was worth barreling into him for. She was one of the fastest walkers he’d ever seen, and in high heels no less. Along with those of half the people in the office, he didn’t know her name either, but he’d only been at Middleton for about a month. This one, though? He’d make a point to ask Warren about this one.

Merry didn’t hear the expected apology and began a mental debate about whether she was owed one before remembering she had a desk and a laptop waiting for her, and she decided to leave on a positive note. Thank you. Circling around the man, she headed for the stairs, thinking maybe waiting until she was at her desk to check the phone might be a wise move. She didn’t want the reputation of being a Calamity Jane because she was always crashing into people. Although if she had to crash into anyone, she had made a wise choice since he’d been polite enough to retrieve her phone for her. She probably should have introduced herself.

Reaching her desk, hoping she exuded an I’m back from lunch and ready to work my patootie off vibe rather than the actual I really need to check my phone vibe, she eased onto her chair and swept the immediate area with her eyes. All clear. Awakening her phone, she tapped the screen and saw Sasha’s response.

Men. Am I right?

Nodding, she almost laughed before remembering she was supposed to be hard at work. Her own response to Sasha’s ultra-perceptive four words would have to wait until she was out of there, which was unfortunate since Sasha deserved a quicker response than that after being so prompt with her own text. But Sasha would understand. Sasha always understood.

Chapter 2

With a last longing glance directed all the way across the office at the man in the corner, Merry slid in her chair at the end of the day and bid a silent but sincere farewell to Warren. He didn’t look up to intercept her gaze, which was probably just as well. If the man actually did ask her out she’d probably revert to her 13-year-old self in her excitement and disbelief which would surely make the man run in the opposite direction. Or hand her a lollypop and pat her on the head.

Tripp had seen when the brunette with the poor sense of direction had popped up from her desk and he’d watched as her stare shot right in his direction. No. She wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at Warren, over at the next desk. That look could be for any number of reasons. Maybe she was trying to get Warren’s attention and hadn’t felt like picking up the phone. Maybe – who the hell knew why she’d do anything? Space was supposedly the final frontier, but if anyone asked Tripp, he’d say forget about space, it was the mind of a female they needed to figure out. His eyes tracked one particular female until she left the office, and he glanced at his watch. Time to go. After one fact-finding mission. Stepping around his desk, he stood a few feet from Warren’s. When he failed to get his friend’s attention, he spoke. Hey. Warren. The guy could focus like no one he’d ever met, and he’d always been that way.

Tripp. Yes?

Still trying to learn names. Who’s the brunette at the desk over that way? He gestured to the opposite side, watching Warren frown. Looked to Tripp like some deep thinking was going on, and he regretted bothering the guy.

I’m not sure who you mean. Where is her desk?

Know what? Never mind. Sorry to interrupt.

Point her out tomorrow.

Night. Tripp headed through the rows of desks, wondering if he stood at the woman’s desk and somehow got Warren’s attention, it would jog the guy’s memory, then decided he didn’t want everyone still left in the department wondering what in the hell he was doing. Instead he slowed his steps by her area, hoping there would be a name plaque or something to give him a clue. Nope. Did he need to know her name? Nope. Did he want to know? Maybe. He should find out the names of everyone in the company at some point, and the sooner he learned them all, the less uninformed he’d be. That would be his goal, beginning tomorrow. Learn names. And he knew whose he was going to learn first.

MERRY WAITED UNTIL she’d reached her apartment in the right-hand unit of a duplex before sending her response to Sasha’s text. You and I both know men can be worth their weight in chocolate, but we also know chocolate in and of itself tastes, let’s face it, yukky. It takes the right amount of sugar to make it delicious. And finding a man with the perfect recipe can take more than thirty years, or at least in my case it has. You, my friend, have been fortunate to find your perfect bit of chocolate already, and even before you reached that advanced age. Merry stared at what she’d written, wondering if she needed to get to the point soon. Anyway, I’m still chasing my TDH, hoping one day soon he’ll want to chase me. Up the stairs and down the hall, as the country song goes. Maybe even around the bed, but I probably would have gracefully accepted defeat and jumped into his arms in the hall, if not halfway up the stairs. Take care, wherever you are, my friend. Tata She clicked the arrow and her message was gone into cyberspace, flying over the wires to Sasha, out west somewhere. Maybe Sasha was even wearing a cowgirl hat by now.

TRIPP WAS ON HIS WAY home listening to a pre-season football radio show when a text interrupted, and he turned up the volume to blast it through the speakers as soon as he heard the first few words. He was smiling by the time he heard the work yukky, then was confused by the TDH reference, but soldiered on so he wouldn’t miss anything. Tapping his screen, he replayed the message, but he wasn’t any wiser after the second go-round. Asking Siri to make a call, he listened to the rings, his eyes on the road ahead.

Hi, Tripp.

Hey, Miranda. How are the Wilkens’ menfolk?

André is good, and the boys are all excited about starting soccer in a few days, Miranda Wilkens said.

Nice. I heard the expression ‘TDH’ today and I wondered if you knew what it meant. He realized as soon as he’d asked he should have consulted Siri, but connecting with his sister was always a good time.

TDH? What was the context? If it’s what I think it is, I’m surprised you heard it. I wouldn’t think they’d get into that much on your talk shows.

A woman said she was chasing her TDH. Is that enough context?

Miranda laughed. Tall, dark, and handsome. Just like you, big brother.

Yup. Should have asked Siri. Good luck with soccer. See you. Another laugh out of his sister. What was one more after all the ones he’d provided her with without even trying? He disconnected and wondered how he was going to respond to the text.

AFTER DINNER, MERRY thought about part two of her monologue. Or was it a textalogue? She wasn’t sure. But she knew what she wanted to add, and hoped her thumbs would be able to keep up with her brain. You know, I have this great job in an office full of men, and nothing is happening man-wise. You remember Kimmie, don’t you? Tall, blonde, beautiful and a magnet for every man who sets eyes on her? She works at the food court and has all the men she can handle. More than she wants. She turns them away in droves. I wonder more every day if I should give up my admin position and go work with Kimmie. Someone else in the office can supply the sales guys with reports and data and keep the copier and fax machine running, right? Who wouldn’t want my job? It might mean a pay cut for me, which is something to consider, but when I weigh it against the option of finding the man of my dreams who might actually feel the same way about me, what difference does a few measly thousand dollars make?

Chapter 3

Tripp felt his phone vibrate while he was in his workshop and decided to postpone checking the text until he’d finished staining, telling