It was my boss. Why was he calling me on a Saturday?
“Hi, Mr. Calloway.”
“Did we get the new contract from Veta Tech?”
His sharp voice was oddly soothing. The wedding had left me feeling like I was on another planet. At least the crisp monotone of Shepherd Calloway’s brusque question was familiar.
“No, we didn’t.”
“Set a reminder for me to follow up on Monday.”
“Sure thing,” I said.
He hung up without saying goodbye.
“Okay, then,” I said to myself and put away my phone.
“There you are, gorgeous.” Gunnar stumbled out onto the porch, his arm wrapped around one of the bridesmaids. He had cake smeared in his hair. “I was looking for you.”
I put my hands on my hips, gaping at him. “What are you doing?”
The bridesmaid nuzzled her nose against his neck and traced a finger down his chest. He kept his arm tight around her waist.
“Holy shit, this is the best wedding I’ve ever been to,” he said. “Diego is the fucking man. Let’s go.”
“What?”
“There’s a hotel next door. We’re gonna get freaky as fuck.” He glanced at the bridesmaid practically dry-humping his leg. “Oh, this is Dee. She’s hot, right? Don’t even worry about it, Everly, I’ve got more than enough for both of you.”
I blinked at him, my mouth hanging open.
“Or maybe I’ll just watch you two,” he said, his words slurring. “Dee, you wanna have some fun with my date?”
Dee turned her drunken gaze on me. “Sure. But if I eat her pussy, she eats mine.”
“Oh my god,” I said. “No. What the fuck, Gunnar?”
“No?” he asked, swaying on his feet. “I thought you’d be down for this. We’re just having fun. Don’t you like fun?”
“Not that kind of fun.” I took a step back, half-afraid they were going to try to drag me bodily to the hotel next door. “You should go. And don’t call me. Ever. In fact, I’m blocking your number now because you’re probably too drunk and you won’t remember.”
I held up my phone and took a picture: Gunnar with cake all over him, a drunk as hell bridesmaid hanging on him like a horny monkey. I sent him the picture as evidence, then promptly blocked his number.
“Fine.” He and Dee staggered toward the stairs. “You were a shitty date anyway.”
I gaped at them as they walked away, ready to call the police if he got in his car. Thankfully, they stumbled toward the hotel next door. I was simultaneously grateful and extremely grossed out.
“Excuse me, Miss, are you okay?”
I jumped at the voice. A man stood at the bottom of the porch steps, as if he’d come from the opposite direction. The first thing I noticed was his wedding ring. The second thing I noticed was that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
But, wedding ring.
“Yes,” I said, but even I couldn’t fake it now. “No, I’m horrible. My date got wasted and left with a bridesmaid after I said no to a threesome. I didn’t even know he was bringing me to a wedding until we were on the freeway. And he said he’d turn around, but I thought it might be fine, even though this was our first date and that’s so weird. But Nora picked him and that was supposed to break my bad first-date luck.”
I stopped to breathe, knowing I hadn’t made any sense.
He walked up the steps, his expression interested rather than baffled. “So, let me see if I have this straight. Nora is your friend, I’m guessing your bestie?”
“Yes.”
“And she picked a guy for you to go out with because you’ve been having bad luck with men. So when that turdburger over there,” he said, pointing in the direction Gunner had gone, “said he was taking you to a wedding on your first date, you went along with it because you figured Nora had your back, so why not be open to the possibilities?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it.”
“Sweetheart, that sucks. You’re super pretty and you seem really nice. I know we just met, but I have good instincts about these things. You’re definitely nice. Maybe even too nice, you feel me? So you were trying really hard to make the best of things today because you couldn’t believe this date, of all first dates, would actually go so horribly wrong. This was Nora’s guy.”
“Yeah, but how do you know all that?”
He grinned and damn it, he really was cute. “What can I say, I’m good. I’m Cooper Miles, by the way.”
I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Everly Dalton.”
“Everly, regardless of the shit you’ve been through, I think we can call today a win. I’m going to, because I’m really glad I met you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not hitting on you. I said you were pretty, and I wasn’t lying. You’re very pretty. But I’m totally married and I love my girl like crazy. We’re having twins.”
“That’s so great,” I said. “Congratulations.”
“It is great,” he said, his eyes widening. “Thank you.”
Despite everything I’d just been through, I found myself laughing. “Well, thanks, Cooper. I actually feel better.”
He pointed at me. “Awesome. That’s my job. I mean, not literally. I’m the head grower here, so my job is actually growing grapes. But making people happy is kind of like my second job. An unofficial one, you might say. Although it could totally be official, because I’m really good at it.”
This guy was crazy, but at least he was making me laugh. “Yes, you are.”
“Hey, listen.” His demeanor changed, a seriousness crossing his features. “Do you know how you’re getting home?”
My shoulders slumped. “No. The—what did you call him?”
“Turdburger?”
“Yeah, the turdburger drove. And I live all the way in Seattle.” I shook my head. “This was a really stupid thing to do. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t worry, Evie—can I call you Evie?—we’ve got your back.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times, then put it to his ear. “Hi, Cookie, how’re you feeling? Awesome. Are you still over at Mom’s? Can you ask her if anyone’s in the Blackberry cottage tonight?”
A woman’s voice answered, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“Cool. My new friend Everly was at a wedding over here and her turdburger of a date ditched her. She lives in Seattle and doesn’t have a ride home. I’m thinking she can stay here tonight if she wants. Then we can figure out how to get her home tomorrow.”
“Oh, Cooper, you don’t have to—”
He held a hand up. “I love the shit out of you, do you know that? That’s such a good idea. Okay, I’ll tell her. Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Cookie. I love you.”
“I can really just call someone to come get me.”
“As an alternative,” he said, pocketing his phone, “we have a couple of guest cottages here on the property. They’re empty tonight, and you’re more than welcome to stay.”
“Wow, that’s so nice of you.”
“Our cottages are super comfortable, and have big bathtubs. Amelia suggested we hook you up with an awesome Salishan t-shirt, since you probably don’t have pajamas or anything, so you can be comfy. And, you know, we’re a winery, so we have lots of wine. Anyway, Amelia’s sending Brynn to walk you down there. Brynn’s my sister. Amelia would come, but she’s really pregnant and it’s twins, so she has to lie down a lot. I’d take you myself, but I need to help my brothers deal with the frat party of a wedding you were just at.”
“How did you know the wedding turned into a frat party?”
“Zoe texted. She’s way too pregnant to deal with those fuckers. My brothers are on their way, although I bet Leo is already there. He probably went through the back. Maybe Chase, too, I don’t know. Sounds like it got cray-cray in there, though.”
“You have no idea.”
“It’s okay, we’ll deal with it. As long as no one set anything on fire, it’ll be fine. As far as tomorrow, we can definitely get you
home. Or you can call someone to come get you. It’s up to you. But either way, you might as well just relax tonight.”
I still felt a little bewildered. Cooper talked really fast. I considered calling Nora and making her drive out here, right this second, to get me. But it was late, and I was already so exhausted. It would be two hours before she could get here, and two hours home.
Plus, a bath sounded magnificent.
“You know what, I’m going to take you up on that. After the day I’ve had, I could use a relaxing evening.”
“I thought so,” Cooper said. “Just hang out here, my sister will be right over.”
“Thank you so much, Cooper. I really appreciate this.”
He smiled. “Anytime. And listen, can I give you a little advice?”
“Um, sure.”
“Don’t let your bestie pick any more dates for you.”
I laughed. “No, I definitely won’t.”
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Will you promise me something?”
“I don’t know, maybe. Promise what?”
“Don’t settle,” he said. “Every woman deserves a man who loves her like crazy. Who can’t imagine his life without her. That guy’s out there, trust me. Wait for him, okay? Don’t settle for anything less than a man who loves the fuck out of you. Promise?”
I certainly couldn’t argue with that. “Okay, yes, I promise.”
“Awesome. Have a good night, Everly. It was great meeting you.”
“Thanks. It was great meeting you, too.”
Cooper went inside and I waited on the porch for his sister, wondering what Nora and Hazel were going to say when I told them about this disaster of a date.
Wondering what’s next for Everly Dalton? Will she ever find her happily ever after… or even go on a decent date?
* * *
Find out in Faking Ms. Right, a hot stand-alone romcom, coming May 23rd.
* * *
Keep reading for a preview…
Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 1
Everly
Call me weird, but I didn’t hate Monday mornings.
Every Monday was a fresh start. A chance to shake off the previous week—or in my case, the disastrous events of the weekend—and move forward.
I didn’t want to think about how many Mondays over the last several months I’d felt the need to put a bad first date behind me. But now wasn’t the time to ponder my terrible dating luck—even though it was pretty horrific. I’d dish to my girlfriends about it tonight. Over martinis, of course.
For now, I had work to do. And here, in this office, I wasn’t Everly Dalton, serial dating disaster. I was Everly Dalton, executive assistant. And I was damn good at my job.
“Good morning, Everly.”
I smiled at Nina, the front receptionist. “Good morning. I love your hair today.”
Her smile brightened. “Thank you.”
I walked down the hallway, smiling and greeting my coworkers. They all said hi and smiled in return. Even Leslie—who hated mornings more than anyone I knew—cracked a little grin over her coffee.
“Morning, sunshine,” Steve said. He was dressed in his usual plaid button-down shirt and brown cardigan. He wasn’t that much older than me—maybe five or six years—but his clothes made him look like a grandpa from the fifties. I was pretty sure that after work he changed into another cardigan that had a zipper, and probably brown slippers. But he was super nice.
“Morning, Steve,” I said. He liked to think he’d nicknamed me sunshine, but he was probably the tenth person to do so over the course of my life. Maybe it was because I wore so much yellow—my favorite color—or because I smiled a lot. His desk was near mine, just across the aisle, so we chatted pretty often. “How’s Millie?”
“I think I need to modify her diet again. I might eliminate fish to see if it helps improve her mood.”
Millie was Steve’s cat, and he was forever tweaking her diet, hoping it would make her be less of an asshole. I’d never had the heart to tell him that Millie was just an old cranky cat, and no special diet would ever make her nice. But it would have crushed him to hear that his cat hated him and probably wanted to murder his face.
“Sounds like a good plan. Keep me posted.”
“I sure will,” he said and went back to his desk.
Did I really want to hear all about Millie’s diet? Not particularly. But it made Steve happy to have someone who listened, so I endured a little bit of cat conversation now and then. I figured if more people made an effort to be friendly, the world would be a much better place.
The truth was, I liked making people happy. It was my catnip. Getting someone grouchy to smile? Best high ever. Like Leslie, Miss I-Hate-Mornings. She’d been resistant to my drive-by good mornings for a while. But eventually I’d worn her down. Stopping by with breakfast muffins and strong espresso a few times had done the trick.
Everyone had a chink in their armor—a place I could get in to find their happy side. Even the grumpiest people were no match for Everly Dalton’s sunshine.
Except one man.
Like a cloud passing in front of the sun, casting a dark shadow, a chill spread across the office. I glanced at the time. Eight twenty-seven. Right on time.
His entrance onto the floor created a ripple, like tossing a rock into still water. It radiated out ahead of him, warning everyone of his arrival. The only person I’d ever met who was impervious to my happy-making. My boss, Shepherd Calloway.
Steve looked up at me and winced. I pretended not to notice. I knew he felt sorry for me. Working for Mr. Calloway was not easy. He was cold, harsh, and demanding. He never said thank you, or gave any sort of praise. I’d lived in terror for the first few months I’d worked for him, positive he was going to fire me. He always seemed so angry.
But after a while, I realized that was just the way he was. He wasn’t angry at me. In fact, he barely noticed me. Sometimes I wondered whether he’d recognize me if he had to pick me out of a police lineup. He so rarely looked directly at my face that I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he didn’t really know what I looked like.
I was pretty sure he knew my name, although he never called me Everly. He never called me anything, really. Just said what he needed to say, without addressing me first. No greetings. No goodbyes. Just, what’s on my calendar today? Or, send me the files before my meeting.
The ripple strengthened and I heard his footsteps over the sudden hushed silence on our floor. I stood, grabbed a stack of paperwork and his coffee—black, just like his heart—and waited.
He didn’t look at anyone as he walked down the hall toward his office. No side glances or nods at his employees. Just his steady gait—a man in a perfectly-tailored suit striding toward his office. His dark hair perfectly styled, his stubble perfectly trimmed.
Without so much as a glance in my direction, he walked past my desk. I fell in step behind him as the clock ticked over to eight twenty-eight.
I followed him into his office and set his coffee on his desk, six inches from the edge and slightly off-center, where he wouldn’t knock it over when he took off his jacket or bump it when he set down his laptop. I picked up a remote and opened the blinds, stopping them before they let in too much light. He took off his suit jacket, and I was there to take it and hang it on the coat tree near the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Calloway,” I said, my voice bright.
He didn’t answer. He never did. Not once had he said good morning in return. But I still did it. Every single day. It was part of our routine, so it would have felt weird not to say it.
He sat and opened his laptop. Grabbed his coffee without looking for it and took a sip.
“Did the lawyer from Duggan and Nolan send over what I asked for?” His voice was smooth and even, without a hint of emotion. Everything he said was delivered in that same tone. People were terrified of Shepherd Calloway, but it wasn’t because he yelled. He didn’t get loud and berate people when they made mistak
es. He froze them. His ice-blue eyes and low voice were more chilling than any tirade could have been. He was a man who could make your heart stop with a glare.
“Yep, no issues there.” I placed a thick manila envelope on the side of his desk.
He touched it with two fingers and shifted it up about an inch.
“I also have something for you from Mark in Accounting.” I set a file folder directly on top of the envelope, making sure the edges lined up nicely.
“Why didn’t he give it to me himself?” he asked.
Because everyone is afraid of you, so they come to my desk early and pretend they didn’t realize you wouldn’t be in your office yet. “I suppose because you weren’t in.”
He didn’t respond.
“You have meetings at ten, noon, and three.” I quickly flipped through his calendar—synced with mine—on my phone. “The noon is at McCormick and Schmick’s, and I already ordered for you. I moved your dentist appointment to next week because it was going to be too close to your three o’clock. I didn’t want you to have to rush. But check with me first before you schedule anything for next Tuesday afternoon, because we shouldn’t put that off again. Oral health is important.”
I paused, although I knew he wouldn’t reply. And he didn’t.
“I spoke with Leslie about those reports you needed, and she’ll have them for you this afternoon. The painting you bought at the Hope Gala last weekend is being delivered to your place later today, so I’ll run over there and sign for it. That means I’ll be out of the office for an hour or so.”
“I need dinner reservations for tomorrow,” he said, still not looking up. “For two. Tulio or Assiaggo are acceptable. Not Canlis. And book a room on Maui for ten days, beginning Saturday. One of the usual resorts. Doesn’t matter which one.”
I probably could have indulged in the smug smile I tried to hide. It wasn’t like he was looking at me. But I nibbled my lip to stop myself anyway. Dinner for two at Tulio or Assiaggo, but not Canlis, and a last-minute trip to Maui meant he was breaking up with his latest gold-digger, Svetlana.
Everly Dalton's Dating Disasters Page 6