“Hey, I don’t like to hear those words.”
“Then don’t be one. Have a great day, Jake.”
“My name is Josh.”
“See? It’s rude when somebody uses the wrong name.”
I resisted the urge to stomp out of the restaurant.
My hostess gave me a thumbs-up, and I shook my head. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”
“What did he do?” she asked, and I was grateful for this woman who, while not a friend, knew me well enough from my bad dates that I counted her as a nice acquaintance.
“Nothing relevant. It’s just not going to work.”
“I would’ve slapped him upside the head with my notepad, but the manager was watching,” the other waiter said as he came forward. “Seriously, you shouldn’t even have left money for the bill.”
The humiliation stung, but I simply smiled and acted as if I weren’t embarrassed about the fact that somebody else had heard his comments. I didn’t know the rest of the staff well, though I had been on a few first dates here.
Never second dates. I didn’t get second dates. I had a feeling that as soon as I walked out the door, everybody would be talking about my lack of a second date. For all I knew, there was probably a betting pool.
How many first dates can May get before it’s the end of the line? Until she runs out of men to date at all?
Was it me?
The common denominator was me. Maybe I just wasn’t good at first dates. Perhaps I needed to get over myself and ignore the NO column completely. After all, I was nervous on first dates. On the other hand, maybe my dates were, too, and that was why everything ended up going horribly wrong.
In fact, the only first date I’d had recently that had been nice, albeit without sparks, had ended up being with my new employer—my friend currently in love with one of my best friends.
That wasn’t awkward at all.
“As for paying my half of the bill…I just want to get out of here. Not that I don’t love the food. You guys do make an amazing bisque.”
“We do. Will we see you soon?” the hostess asked, then cringed. “With your friends,” she amended.
I smiled, nodded, and waved, ignoring the twinge in my chest. She likely assumed I would be here again for another first date that would inevitably crash and burn.
There was that one time the guy bailed on me. Or the time another had shown up with his four kids—which was fine when I assumed it was a childcare issue. But no, he’d wanted to go on a date with his wife, needed a babysitter, and thought I could do it since I was sitting alone at the next table over.
There was the time the man showed up, grinned at me, and ended up arrested on a bench warrant halfway through the hors d’oeuvres.
At another restaurant, my date had tried to grope me under the table before we could even finish introducing ourselves.
Then there was the other married guy.
And the widower who cried in my arms as I cried with him, holding him as the waitstaff walked around us, nervously wondering what to do.
That one had broken my heart. I still talked to him and had even introduced him to his new wife, a soft and sweet woman who wasn’t the first person he’d tried to date after his late wife passed.
I had been through my share of first dates. And I hated it.
I got to my car and checked my phone for the time.
“Six-thirty p.m. That’s a new record for me.”
I rolled my eyes and started my car, heading out of the parking lot. With a sigh, I saw a familiar lit sign and smiled. I did not want to go home. I didn’t want to watch TV, read a book, or study the latest articles and research for my field. I didn’t want to prep for my day with Luke, the little boy that I adored and cared for during the day. I didn’t want to focus on my childcare management classes or the lessons I would be teaching at upcoming seminars.
I didn’t want to do any of that. So, instead, I pulled into the parking lot of Montgomery Ink Legacy, turned off the car, and hoped to see a familiar face or two.
Some days when I came here, I even brought Luke since he loved to see the man I knew would one day be his stepfather.
I was Luke’s nanny. And it might not sound lush and high-end to some people, but I loved my job. I loved making sure that Luke’s life was enriched, and Brooke didn’t have to worry about him when she was at work—not that my friend wouldn’t worry. She excelled at it, but she trusted me with her son and her future, which meant the world to me—more than most things.
Brooke’s boyfriend, Leif Montgomery, owned this tattoo shop, a place where I would one day get a tattoo when I was ready. I’d only been in a couple of times before, and for some reason, I just wanted to come in here tonight.
The tattoo shop was set in a strip mall that didn’t looked nothing like strip malls from when I was a kid. There were gorgeous trees, fun, artsy shops, and cute cafés everywhere. It was a nice place to be, and I liked coming here.
I walked inside and grinned at the two people who I knew the best.
Lake Montgomery, a woman with kind and sad eyes, one of my dearest friends, waved at me, holding her books close to her chest. She had been through hell and back, and I was so proud to call her my friend. I was grateful that even after everything she’d gone through, she was still in my corner.
“Oh, no. You had a date tonight. And you’re here.” She glanced at the clock. “Before seven. Ouch.”
I winced as I reached out to hug her. She hugged me back tightly after setting down her books, and I swallowed hard, my emotions running strong. I wouldn’t have reached out like this before, not without warning or asking her if it was okay. But the fact that she could hold me so tightly right now? It told me that she was finally breathing again.
But I didn’t want to think about that because I knew from the look on her face that she didn’t want to talk about it. And from the hungry look in the eyes of the man walking toward me—his attention only on Lake—he wouldn’t want to talk about it, either.
“Bad date?” Nick asked as he looked over Lake’s head and winked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course. The last good date I had was with this one,” I said, pointing at Leif.
Leif choked on his water, sputtering. “Seriously? That can’t be right.”
Lake burst out laughing, as did the few others in the room. That’s when I noticed I wasn’t alone with my friends. No, the place was full of customers, their friends, and a few other artists I had never met before.
“Oh. I didn’t realize you were all here. I’m sorry. I’m going to go hide under a rock now—as soon as I find one.”
“Don’t hide on our account,” a man with dark hair, light eyes, and a wicked grin said as he stepped forward. He held out his hand. “I’m Leo. And you are the woman of my dreams.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.
He rolled his eyes as the others laughed outright with me. “Well, then. I guess that put me in my place. Seriously, though, I’m Leo. It’s good to meet you. It’s May, right? You’re Leif and Brooke’s nanny. I mean, Luke’s nanny—not that Leif doesn’t need one.”
I didn’t hear any derision in his tone, only interest. That was different. Most people weren’t sure why I was still a nanny with all my college degrees and experience. But I really did love my job. Other people with their misconceptions and preconceived notions would have to get over themselves.