“I thought that would get your attention.” Jackie flashed me a smile. “She’s working on an assignment that Kate wanted to do for Starlet. She’s testing out the best dating app for her readers.”
“So, she’s meeting someone she’s never met before?” The muscles of my jaw tightened.
“They’ve been texting each other. What’s wrong, Greg? You look a little pale.”
I cleared my throat. “Nothing is wrong. I’m concerned … as a friend.” I’m such an idiot.
“Sure, you are.” She smiled.
“Where did you say she was meeting this guy?”
“I didn’t, and Staci warned me not to tell you anything,” She fluffed her hair then straightened her jacket when she got up from her chair, moving around me. “I feel like having a coffee. Would you like one?”
“No, thanks.”
“And Greg, don’t you dare go looking into Staci’s day planner she purposely left on her desk.” She winked before walking away.
“Remind me to promote you once I take over as CEO,” I said before she got too far.
“I’ll hold you to it,” Jackie said.
I waited until Jackie was out of sight before moving out of my chair. I was thankful that Staci was still traditional when it came to organizing her schedule and that I didn’t need the IT guy to override her password on her computer—I would if needed.
I sat in Staci’s chair, opening her agenda to today’s date. She was meeting a man named Matt at San Carlo restaurant in SoHo. I felt my whole inside burning. I got up and straightened my tie. What was I going to say or do? I guessed I would worry about it when I got there.
Be curious about him. Men love to talk about themselves. Just don’t turn it into an interview.
“7 Things Men Expect on a First Date”
by Staci Cortés
11
Staci
I disliked everything about online dating, and Kate, my boss, already knew that. But, if I were like one of my readers—a single girl looking for love in the big city—then dating apps seemed like the easy way to meet new people. Also, my readers would appreciate it if I scoped things out for them, though I hated the idea of choosing to meet up with someone based on their picture. If you met someone at a bar, face-to-face, at least you could get a vibe of what they were really like instead of making up this romantic idea about them from a profile picture and a few back-and-forth texts. Then again, I’d met Luis at a bar, and look where it had gotten me.
Really, I preferred a natural connection with someone when you least expected it.
Then, I thought about Greg.
Over the last few months, we had gotten close, and my feelings for him had evolved. I was not even mad anymore. It was silly now that I thought about it. People made mistakes, and people change. I shouldn’t have treated Greg the way I had. But I had been broken one too many times that I didn’t have the strength to go through it again—trusting someone.
Honestly, I was comfortable with my friendship with Greg, so I had to hold my feelings back from allowing myself to fall for him. The thing was, it might already be too late. I had to get him out of my system. That was why when Kate had proposed I investigate a new dating app that had just come out, I’d jumped at the opportunity. I needed something to get my mind off of Greg. Who knew? Maybe Matt and I would hit it off. Perhaps I’d be interested in seeing him again, outside of work. But Matt would never find that out.
As I entered the restaurant, my eyes caught a man sitting in the corner. Matt had said he’d be wearing a blue Oxford shirt. This man looked like the guy in the profile picture—the one of him leaning against a vintage roadster, dressed in a tweed jacket over a crisp shirt and jeans—only he was clean-shaven today.
I, being the journalist that I was, had taken the liberty the night before to learn everything about him, and thanks to social media, there was all kinds of information at my fingertips. First, I went over his profile, taking cues on all the information available. His bio seemed intriguing. He was thirty-four and owned a real estate firm. Then, I hopped on to Facebook and found his business page. I went through the recommendations.
One client wrote, The most passionate and honest realtor you’ll ever meet.
Sounded promising.
Then, I moved on to his Instagram account. You could tell so much from somebody’s life from the pictures they posted. Relieved he hadn’t displayed much, I scrolled way down to the bottom, working my way up. He had a picture with a cute brunette, but it was dated five years ago. There was no evidence of her in his recent posts. Maybe a friend or now an ex. On a later post, Matt and another male were each sitting on a child’s bicycle, which could mean he had children or a good sense of humor— or both. There were several pictures all over the world, including properties he was selling here in New York and LA. He had a picture of his dad and another post voicing his views on the extinction crisis of rhinos. Overall, I’d felt at ease, and I was excited about meeting Matthew Davis.
As I walked closer to the table, I had to remind myself this was for work. He was so incredibly handsome though.
“Matthew?” I smiled shyly, and he stood up.
“Staci?”
“Yes,” I said, relieved it’s him.
He offered his hand, and I accepted it.
“Please call me Matt.” He had a charming smile, but nothing compared to Greg’s. He was taller than I imagined and handsome than I’d initially thought, but something came over me. When I realized what it was, I felt a ping at the bottom of my stomach. He wasn’t Greg.
“Thank you,” I said as he pulled out my chair for me.
“Wow.” His eyes held mine for a second. “From the picture, I knew you were beautiful, but I didn’t know you were this stunning.” He took his seat across from me.
“Thank you.”
I blushed even though it was a comment I generally hated to get from men, but he didn’t know me, and it was clear he was a little nervous.
“So, have you ever done this before? Used Heart Match to go on a date?” I picked up the menu off the white tablecloth, hating the fact that he didn’t know the real reason I was here. Being deceitful sometimes came with the job as a writer.
“Yes. I have been on it for a week but have met no one interesting. I still have hope though,” he said, and I smiled.
“So, what made you choose this app? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, not at all. With my business and traveling, I don’t have time to meet people. The app makes things convenient. It’s like looking at a menu, deciding what you want to have tonight,” he said.
I wondered if I was the only date he had lined up this week.
“So, Matt, what is it you do?” I asked the question I already knew the answer to.
“I’m a real estate broker. I have an office here and in California.”
“Oh, interesting.” I slid a white napkin across my lap as the waiter poured wine into our glasses.
“I hope you don’t mind. I ordered a bottle of merlot. I read on your profile that you’re a wine lover.”
“Oh, yes, that’s fine. Thank you,” I said, thinking it was a little too early for alcohol. I still had to go back to the office and deal with Greg. I needed my wits razor-sharp.
“You’re a writer.”
“Yes, for a women’s magazine.” I take a sip from my glass. I knew he was a smart man, maybe he might see right through me.
He continued to stare at me like he wanted to know more. “What kind of articles do you write?”
“Oh, um … beauty products and fashion—stuff like that,” I said, feeling awful about misleading him, but I was doing my job.
Later, we ordered our meals and chatted about the kind of food we liked to eat while he occasionally glanced up and smiled. Everything seemed to go great until I looked up and saw Greg from across the room. My heart dropped.
“Are you okay?” Matt asked.
“Yes … fine,” I said, choking on my wine. �
��It went down the wrong way.”
I watched Greg talk to the hostess before his eyes met mine. He had a funny expression in his eyes. Was that a look of hurt? Before long, he made his way over to us. The heat in the back of my neck rose. I couldn’t believe Jackie told him where I was.
“Staci!”
“Hi … Greg.” I wasn’t sure if I should stand or stay seated. Either way, I had a feeling he would rat me out. “What are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth as he leaned in, kissing both cheeks. I felt my face stung. This small, intimate interaction was something he had never done before.
“I was just coming in for a bite,” he said, turning his eyes from my date to look back at me. “What a surprise. I didn’t expect to find you here,” he added.
I narrowed my eyes and gave him my best counterfeit smile. I didn’t buy any of it.
“I thought you would have your soggy sandwich in the lunch room?”
“I stopped doing that since this colleague of mine kept eating my sandwiches so she could get my attention. I think she has a huge crush on me.” He smiled sheepishly.
“Oh, I doubt that. I think it’s all in your head.” I gave him a full-on glare.
“Do you mind if I join you guys?” Greg asked.
“Yes, I do—” I said, but Greg pulled a chair from another table, placing it between Matt and me.
“Sorry … who are you?” Matt asked.
“I’m Greg McAdams, Staci’s fiancé.”
I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. What was he trying to prove?
Greg held out his hand, but Matt ignored it. His mouth slightly opened, and his eyes went from me to Greg and back again.
“It’s okay.” Greg holds up his hand. “Staci and I have an understanding. We are in an open relationship,” Greg said. Matt’s face went pale.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Greg was kidding! He’s not my fiancé.” I shook my head in protest. I was trying hard to hold back my laughter, and at the same time, I had the urge to strangle Greg. “He’s my annoying co-worker.”
“Boss actually.” He cast me a side glance. “Ah, man, I’m messing with you.” Greg tapped him on the back.
Matt cleared his throat as he stood up. “I … I should go.”
“Don’t leave. I wasn’t going to stay long,” Greg said in a tone that wasn’t convincing.
“It seems you guys have some things to sort out. I’ll leave you to it. Nice to meet you, Staci,” he said, rushing to get away from us.
I didn’t blame him.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Greg switched seat with the one facing me.
“I can’t believe you scared my date away.” I folded my arms across my chest. “What am I supposed to do now? Kate wants the article by Friday,” I huffed.
“I did you a favor.” His eyes flashed back at the entrance. “Did you see what he was wearing? He had boring written all over him. You’re welcome.” His eyes met mine, and there was something playful in them, like he’d just won a tournament.
Did he think I was on a real date?
“You’re proud of yourself,” I said.
He leaned toward me. “I am. You deserve someone—”
“Like you?” I mumbled, knowing exactly where this conversation was going.
Greg was here because the thought of me being out with another man drove him crazy, and somehow, I enjoyed knowing that.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He held his hands out. “You could use someone like me in your life.” He straightened his tie.
“You’d drive me crazy. We would end up killing each other,” I said, lifting my chin.
“I don’t think so.”
“Says you.” I snorted.
The waiter brought our lunch, and Greg now had Matt’s meal in front of him.
“Jeez, is this guy for real?” He looked down at the Thai salad. “You know what this means.”
“What?” I glanced up from my plate.
“The guy is a wimp.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed.
“I mean, a guy doesn’t have to order prime rib to prove to you that he’s a man. Having a fit body is sexy. Ordering salad with dressing on the side isn’t.” He held one side of his plate up to show me.
“Matt is a marathon runner.”
“I know. Did you see how fast he got out of here? He didn’t even fight for you.” He pointed with his fork toward the exit.
“Why would you?” I regretted the words as soon as they came out.
His playful eyes dimmed slightly, and I felt like I’d hit a nerve.
“I would go to hell and back for you, if given a chance,” he said in a low rumble.
My heart picked up a beat. What am I supposed to follow up with after that?
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” I diverted my eyes back to my plate, trying to move off the topic that Greg and I would never be an item. “Matt was a good candidate. Now, I have to start all over again and look for somebody else.”
“Ask me the questions.” He motioned with his hand.
“What questions?”
“The ones you prepared for this date,” he said, picking at his plate with his fork. “I’ll pretend I’m Mr. Boring.”
“How do you know this wasn’t work-related?” I leaned back in my chair.
“It doesn’t matter how I know.”
“Jackie,” I sighed. “This is not going to work. It’s not fair to my readers when all my material is based on you.”
“All your articles are based on me?”
“Do I have a choice? You’re always around me,” I huffed.
“Do you know how attractive you are when you get revved up like that?” He winked.
“You’re insane,” I said.
“I’m super chill. Come on, ask me the questions.”
“Okay, but be truthful.”
“I would never lie to you, Staci.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “Okay, how long ago was your last relationship?” This should be interesting.
“My last serious relationship was two years ago. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone—that is, until a couple of months ago.” His eyes met mine. “I blew it because I couldn’t get her to trust me,” he said.
I cast my eyes down to my tuna salad, pretending not to listen to the last part. My feelings for Greg was quite confusing. One minute, I wanted to strangle him and the next, desired to kiss him. The friction between us was undeniable, but I knew it wouldn’t work in the long run, and I didn’t want to get hurt again.
“Why did you break up with her?”
“She didn’t want what I wanted.”
“And that was?”
“Settling down—the house, the kids. Maybe a cat or a dog.”
“Aren’t you too young for that?”
“I’m twenty-nine. I have everything else. Those are the only things I’m missing.”
“The one.” I nodded, remembering what he’d told me about looking for his soulmate at the Knicks game.
“The one who gets me without having to explain myself, the one whom I’ll miss like crazy when she’s not around,” he said.
“So, I guess I don’t have to ask you my other question.”
“What’s that?”
“Are you looking for anything serious or just a hook-up?”
“Hook-up,” he said, and I had the urge to smack him. “Were you really going to ask that question? Matt would have said that I’m sure, so add it to your notes for your article.”
“Forget it. This is not going to work.” I was too emotionally invested in Greg I wouldn’t even know where to begin to write this piece for the magazine. “This is not the kind of articles I want to write about.” I placed my fork down, taking a sip from my wine glass.
“Look, what we do for a living is subjective, right? I don’t have all the answers for the men who read my articles. I’m just as lost about love as the next guy. So maybe that’s why I write—to figure out s
omething about love and maybe even about myself. However, sometimes, you meet a reader who puts everything into perspective.” His eyes softened.
“What do you mean?”
Greg loosened his tie before meeting my eyes. “A few weeks ago, I got this e-mail from a reader saying he was a big fan, loved my articles, and he was hoping I could help him out. He was crushing on this girl, but he was stuck in the friend zone.” He paused. “I thought, great, I can help this guy, so I asked him questions. He told me he was texting her for two months but had never seen her face-to-face because he leaves the house once a month with his caretaker.”
“I don’t understand.” I frowned.
“This person was in a wheelchair. He can’t do anything without help, except for talking, and he’s in love with a girl who doesn’t know his real situation and, um …” Greg diverted his eyes away from me for a moment and they turned back to mine, there was a glossy look to them. “He’s afraid that she won’t find him attractive, and when she meets him for the first time, all she’ll see is the amount of responsibility she would have to take on.”
“Oh.” My heart tightened.
“And I—I thought of all the times I’d felt sorry for myself and how they could never compare to what this guy was going through. I have nothing to complain about. He goes out once a month … it left me in shambles. Really did,” he said with a glaze in his eyes.
I’d never seen Greg so open, vulnerable, and at that moment, I wished I could reach over and kiss him. But I didn’t.
“What did you do?”
“I couldn’t promise him anything, but I set aside a whole day for him. We Skyped, and I suggested what he should do.”
“Did he ever get the girl?”
He smiled. “He’s working on it.” Greg put his fork down and looked up at me. “Yeah, so maybe what we do at Nast Publishing might not feel as significant as changing the world, but sometimes, I get that opportunity where I can really help someone, and it restores my faith in what I do.”
“I hope he gets the girl,” I said.
“Me too.”
I saw Greg in a new light, overshadowed by the fact that I now felt ashamed of myself, that I had let the past control me. This was not the man I remembered because Greg was a mature and caring man.
The One & Only: The One Lover Series Book 1 Page 8