Chapter One
There's always that moment where the hope of a first date turns sour. It starts off with someone getting themselves hopeful about a first date. Will I like them? Will they like me? Will this person be the one? Am I supposed to pay my way on first dates now? The hope goes along stead enough, maybe even increasing, until the realization that no, you don't like this person, don't care if they like you and this person is definitely not the one. The dread forces the hope to free-fall a little deeper after each bad date and the climb to hope is a little steeper. Kate was in the free-fall stage of this date.
It wasn't the location. Her date chose that well. An expansive speakeasy downtown with four rooms and a huge stage in the center of it all where diners in their sexy outfits could see burlesque dancers teasing the crowd as they walked down the grand staircase from the street. Kate and her date, James sat at a small round table lit by candlelight in the smallest of the rooms with a wooden bar at the back.
Just be polite, Kate. Then you can leave at the first chance and lay on your couch alone.
Kate smiled politely at James as he droned on and on about his job. There wasn't anything particularly off-putting about James. He was just slightly taller than her and his blonde hair was perfectly swept to the side. She even tried not to judge him harshly for his preppy outfit, khakis and navy blue jacket. But James was just boring. Someone Kate's mother would have chosen for her and, in fact, Kate's mother had chosen him for her.
"You know James Boudreaux? Frank and Elena's son? He just moved back to the city. You should show him around, Kate," her mother told her over the phone.
Kate rolled her eyes. "The kid who used to pull my hair and threw sand on me at summer camp when I was 12?"
"I can hear you rolling your eyes through the phone, Kate. But you should see him now. He is a venture capitalist now and moved back for this big job at a firm. He really has become a man and I think you two would hit it off."
"Are you sure, Mom? He doesn't seem like my type at all."
"Well he was at a dinner at the Boudreaux's house last week and asked about you. I gave him your card."
Kate blanched. "Oh Mom, no you didn't. Please tell me you didn't." She had very little interest in all of this.
"Just one drink, Kate. Go out with him. You're 28, all of my friends are about to be grandmothers. I need to see you marry before I die." Every time her mother would bring up this excuse Kate would be filled with guilt.
"Fine. Drinks and that's it," she agreed so she could get off the phone and away from the source of the sinking feeling that she wasn't good enough because she still wasn't married with no prospects on the horizon. When James called a day later, Kate was impressed that he had grown up and was even a little hopeful that the date wouldn't be that bad. But she should have trusted her gut. This guy was perfectly fine but perfectly boring. She had even slipped into her favorite dress, a burgundy v-neck dress that stopped just below her knees and hugged every curve of her. All thoughts of the dress being matronly were dashed when someone saw the back of the dress and the gold zipper down the center of the dress from nape to knee. Her peep-toe heels brought her to eye level with James but she didn't care. His amazement when she opened the door to see him was satisfaction enough. Never mind that she was barely attracted to him, as long as someone found her irresistible was enough. In the car on the way to the club, his arms wrapped around her shoulder and his fingers traced the exposed part of her neck with her long auburn hair curled and swept to one side. Normally this would be a move that she would find sexy, but with James she found in unnecessarily protective and a chance to preemptively jump over her walls.
Kate had tuned out his droning to see a group of men in suits walk in. Four of them. All tall and muscular, but
There's always that moment where the hope of a first date turns sour. It starts off with someone getting themselves hopeful about a first date. Will I like them? Will they like me? Will this person be the one? Am I supposed to pay my way on first dates now? The hope goes along stead enough, maybe even increasing, until the realization that no, you don't like this person, don't care if they like you and this person is definitely not the one. The dread forces the hope to free-fall a little deeper after each bad date and the climb to hope is a little steeper. Kate was in the free-fall stage of this date.
It wasn't the location. Her date chose that well. An expansive speakeasy downtown with four rooms and a huge stage in the center of it all where diners in their sexy outfits could see burlesque dancers teasing the crowd as they walked down the grand staircase from the street. Kate and her date, James sat at a small round table lit by candlelight in the smallest of the rooms with a wooden bar at the back.
Just be polite, Kate. Then you can leave at the first chance and lay on your couch alone.
Kate smiled politely at James as he droned on and on about his job. There wasn't anything particularly off-putting about James. He was just slightly taller than her and his blonde hair was perfectly swept to the side. She even tried not to judge him harshly for his preppy outfit, khakis and navy blue jacket. But James was just boring. Someone Kate's mother would have chosen for her and, in fact, Kate's mother had chosen him for her.
"You know James Boudreaux? Frank and Elena's son? He just moved back to the city. You should show him around, Kate," her mother told her over the phone.
Kate rolled her eyes. "The kid who used to pull my hair and threw sand on me at summer camp when I was 12?"
"I can hear you rolling your eyes through the phone, Kate. But you should see him now. He is a venture capitalist now and moved back for this big job at a firm. He really has become a man and I think you two would hit it off."
"Are you sure, Mom? He doesn't seem like my type at all."
"Well he was at a dinner at the Boudreaux's house last week and asked about you. I gave him your card."
Kate blanched. "Oh Mom, no you didn't. Please tell me you didn't." She had very little interest in all of this.
"Just one drink, Kate. Go out with him. You're 28, all of my friends are about to be grandmothers. I need to see you marry before I die." Every time her mother would bring up this excuse Kate would be filled with guilt.
"Fine. Drinks and that's it," she agreed so she could get off the phone and away from the source of the sinking feeling that she wasn't good enough because she still wasn't married with no prospects on the horizon. When James called a day later, Kate was impressed that he had grown up and was even a little hopeful that the date wouldn't be that bad. But she should have trusted her gut. This guy was perfectly fine but perfectly boring. She had even slipped into her favorite dress, a burgundy v-neck dress that stopped just below her knees and hugged every curve of her. All thoughts of the dress being matronly were dashed when someone saw the back of the dress and the gold zipper down the center of the dress from nape to knee. Her peep-toe heels brought her to eye level with James but she didn't care. His amazement when she opened the door to see him was satisfaction enough. Never mind that she was barely attracted to him, as long as someone found her irresistible was enough. In the car on the way to the club, his arms wrapped around her shoulder and his fingers traced the exposed part of her neck with her long auburn hair curled and swept to one side. Normally this would be a move that she would find sexy, but with James she found in unnecessarily protective and a chance to preemptively jump over her walls.
Kate had tuned out his droning to see a group of men in suits walk in. Four of them. All tall and muscular, but
Similar Books
