“Come on, Parks. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry the guy. Just one date. He likes you. What’s so wrong about the fact that he likes you?”
“He’s not my type.”
Teru followed me down the hallway and into the file room where I immediately attempted to distract myself by sorting the folders away.
“Rich, good-looking guys aren’t your type?” he asked.
I thought of Andrew and snarled. “No. They’re not.”
“I don’t get it. You don’t date. You don’t go for anything here at work. You won’t let Peyton get any closer. What are you afraid of? Don’t you want anything more than this?”
Andrew’s accusations from Friday night came flying back like a fiery hellstorm. I jumped up from where I was crouched filing and leered at Teru. “What’s so wrong with this? I’m sick of this insinuation that I should be some Nobel peace prize winner or something. It’s normal for a twenty-four-year-old to not be into getting into a relationship, living in a one-bedroom by herself and working an entry-level job that she likes and is good at. Why the fuck is everyone on my back?!”
Teru held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I don’t want to go out with Greg.”
Teru nodded. “Fine.”
“Is there anything else, or can I get back to work?”
He motioned over to the filing cabinet, and as soon as my back was turned to the door, I could hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. I slammed a fist down on top of the stack of folders. I wasn’t doing anything abnormal for someone my age. I’d been to college, I earned a salary, I had my own place. What more did people want from me? Was everyone expected to take on the world like this?
I finished filing my folders, although it took longer than it was meant to with my turn of mood. I shuffled my way back to my desk, desperate to plug in my headphones and just disappear from the world for a bit, but when I turned the corner, there was someone standing there with their back to the desk.
I slid behind it quietly and cleared my throat. “Sorry for the wait. How can I help you?” She turned around and alarm bells went off. It was Hannah, the woman who’d introduced herself to me outside Peyton’s school. The one who set me up with Andrew. Oddly enough, her hair wasn’t the same color it was the last time I saw her. It was gray, the designer, high-fashion type. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I heard that you didn’t have a very good date.”
“That’s an understatement,” I spat back at her. “So, thanks for trying, but I think I’ll just find my own dates from now on.”
She pouted. “That’s a shame. I was actually coming here to ask you to try again. We like being able to boast success and we feel horrible that the bachelor you were paired with wasn’t a good match. We have an exciting bachelor that I think would be great for you.”
“You thought that the first time.”
“True indeed,” she replied, “but what are the chances I would mess it up twice?”
“Maybe your judgment is flawed.”
Her mouth twitched a little, but then she smiled even wider. “I’m only human after all. Trust me. This date will be much better than your first,” she said. I stared at her, uncertain. “If nothing else, get a free meal and a nice night.”
She sketched me out. Somehow it seemed like she was tailoring her pitch to match me exactly. Was I just that transparent or was she that observant? I couldn’t deny what she said. I hadn’t gotten the sex I was hoping for, and if the guy was even half as good-looking as Andrew, but easier to spend the night with, I could just enjoy him for that night and never talk to him again.
She must have sensed that she’d convinced me, because she slid a card across the desk to me. It was similar to the one I’d gotten the first time, but the information had been filled in at the bottom to the upcoming Wednesday at seven pm.
“Trust me, Ms. Zenrille. This date will be much better than your first.”
7
Parker
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Andrew out of my head. It wasn’t the date that kept playing over, but that first moment I laid my eyes on him. That way my heart dropped to my feet before leaping up into my throat. That smile he gave me and the holy shit that rattled across my mind at how drop-dead gorgeous he was. For a brief minute I’d thought, did this really work? Did some random woman just approach me outside of Peyton’s school and set me up on a blind date with someone like him? No way I got that lucky.
And I hadn’t.
Everything after that holy shit moment was uncomfortable chaos and it shook me to my core. Even though I’d lowered my expectations for this second date with a new bachelor, I was still afraid I was going to run smack dab into the same situation. I had to keep my brain focused on not getting swept up as easily as I did. Even if the guy that comes up is another stunner, I have to accept the possibility that he too could be another rich asshole.
“Ms. Zenrille, you’re a bit early, so can I get you anything to drink?” It was a different waiter from the one who’d assisted me last time, but he was dressed in the same simple slacks and dress shirt uniform.
I was back at the same place my date with Andrew had been, and money had been a point of contention. Since I’d arrived early again, it was probably in my best interest to clear out that issue at least.
“Can you tell me how much stuff costs?” I asked. “The wine and stuff, or the menu I got last time had no prices on it.”
He smiled at me. “Everything you order while here is complimentary. Wine, food, all of it. It’s considered a part of the service.”
My eyes widened. I took a peek at the filet mignons and steamed lobsters topping some of the other patrons’ plates. How much did the service cost for them to be able to afford to just give away such expensive food? Was the service really just that successful?
“Don’t people take advantage?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, not typically. We find that when people come for dates, they’re far too consumed with one another to take advantage of what, to them, is free food.”
I scoffed. That was certainly not my experience. If anything, I couldn’t take advantage because I blew out of there so quickly, I didn’t even get the food I did order. “I understand. Thank you.”
“Of course, ma’am. So, with that in mind, can I get you anything?”
“Oh.” I smiled. “Yes, please. A white wine. I’m not picky as long as it’s sweet.”
He bowed. “Of course. I’ll return with that shortly.”
“Thank you.”
I looked around at the different couples enjoying their meals. I hadn’t noticed it the first time, but the waiter told no lies. Everyone seemed to be engrossed by their dates. There was laughter, casual touches, shimmering eyes. Whatever had gone wrong with Andrew and I clearly hadn’t gone wrong for any of these people. Just as the waiter said, many of their plates were partially eaten if not totally untouched. They were all so distracted by one another that they were struggling to eat.