Finding Memories (Breaking Free Series)

by Becca Taylor

  I laugh. “That’s a terrible gift.”

  “Yeah, well, my mom told me nonrefundable, and if I didn’t go out on at least one date, I wasn’t going to get her monthly pecan pie.”

  “So here you are with me, and you still get your pie. Wait, give me your phone,” I tell Linc.

  He reaches into his jacket pocket and hands it to me. I scoot my chair closer to him and kiss him on the cheek while snapping a selfie. When I look at the picture, I think it came out good for a cell phone photo. I hand Linc his phone back before moving my chair back to its rightful place. “There, now you have proof of a date, so she has to make you that pie.”

  “Thanks, Jade.”

  “For what?”

  “For being you. And making my first date easy.”

  “Well, I think you’re an amazing guy, and we definitely will be staying in touch.”

  “Friends?” he questions.

  “Absolutely.”

  When I get home, it's back to the drawing board, but after tonight, I don't think I want to go out on a date again soon. I need time to think about all scenarios.

  Then I remember I’m supposed to send Jeremy a quick text before curling into bed.

  Home safe. Hope you are having the best dream ever.

  I scroll quickly through my emails and see I received one from Intuitions for a speed date night, and it sounds interesting. It's so different for me—someone who likes to be away from the crowds but still observe them. I think it's a great way to break the dating ice per se. It will help me get over the nerves of first conversations, or at least I’m hoping that it does. I barely hesitate when I fill out the response form and pay the dinner fees. It’s going to be an expensive night, but you only live once, right? That’s what I keep saying to myself as I try to justify the money I just spent on dating instead of the five panty and bra sets I could have bought. But why keep buying them if no one will ever see them?

  THIS GIRL IS too innocent and sweet to be hanging out at a construction site. When I woke up this morning, that was the first thought that came to mind after reading her text. Most people would just say ‘home, good night.’ And for some reason, as I wait for the crew to show up for the morning meeting, I’m still smiling at Jade’s message.

  Jade is due here an hour after I talk to my crew about expectations and our timeframe. One by one, everyone starts filing in with their coffees in hand. They plop into the folding chairs I set up at my home base, which also happens to be the garage at my house. The job site isn’t fit for this meeting, which is going to consist of a lot of going over contracts and paperwork that needs to be filled out and signed for both myself and Jade.

  I take a head count to double check that everyone is here and accounted for at nine on the dot. My first rule—if you don’t arrive on time, don’t bother coming at all. They all know this since I’ve worked with everyone here before.

  “Listen up; the quicker we get this done, the better, so save your questions until the appropriate time. Each of you knows your role from previous jobs, and the paperwork from me is no different than the past jobs we’ve worked on. They just need updating for the current year,” I tell them as they pass around the forms.

  We spent the next hour going over policies, workers comp, sick pay, holiday schedules, and all the other red tape that I need to. I see Jade sneak in quietly, looking too sophisticated for the bunch of thugs we are. Everyone here is dressed in our ratty jeans and shirts made for getting dirty, but she’s dressed for the office—in that dress I told her was fit for the PTA. Only, in person, it looks nothing like in the picture she sent and shows way too many curves than the angle the photograph did. Goddamn, I’m glad these guys signed the sexual harassment forms because I need to keep them in line around her. One female amongst a crew of mostly men is just asking for trouble.

  “All right, I’m going to hand the meeting over. You all know that the town is documenting this project. I’m going to introduce you to the woman who will oversee that. I expect you to be on your best behavior when she’s around. That means keep your foul language to a minimum and treat her with the same respect as any other crew member here. Ms. Foxton, you’re up.”

  Jade walks forward. When she stands right next to me, she takes control of the room. “Thanks Jeremy for that little intro, but there’s no need for you guys to hide who you really are. In other words, swear away, unless I’m wearing my don’t swear t-shirt. Anyway, your amazing boss filled you in on the what and the why we are filming before this or else you wouldn’t be here, so I’m not going to bore you with that again.”

  The guys chuckle at her. “Seriously, I want to capture real moments with each of you, and if a cuss word slips, I can always have our wonderful editing team work around it. So feel free to say suck it all you want.”

  She reaches in her briefcase and takes out a stack of papers to hand out. “I’ve put everything into one big book for you. Sorry for all the reading homework, but if you don’t sign, you won’t be photographed or filmed. You lose your five-minute claim to fame. Make sure you read everything—not that there is anything overcomplicated in here; it’s just your standard give up your rights to any sort of private life while on the job. Are there any questions?”

  No one responds. “Great. That’s about it for me. I will be collecting these from Jeremy in two days, so you have a little time to read it over. One last thing, my number and email are on the last page if you have any questions while you are enjoying your contractual reading. Thanks, everyone.”

  I announce, “Class dismissed. I want those papers in my hand in two days like the lady said.” I look at Jade as everyone leaves my garage. “Suck it. Really, Jade? Have you been around a construction site before?”

  “You are very bossy. I’m not big on swearing. So that’s about all you are getting from me.”

  “I am the boss, and we’ll see. I’m thinking since you lifted the ban on language, in a month, you’ll be talking like us.”

  She looks at me with a sideways glance. “I doubt that.”

  I start folding up the chairs, and Jade starts helping me. As I stack them in the corner, I ask, “How did the date go?”

  I shouldn’t. It’s none of my business, but seeing as she texted me when she got home, I’m assuming she was alone.

  “It went well.”

  “Well or really well?”

  “He was nice,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “That’s the kiss of death for men.”

  “What is?”

  “The N-word. No man wants to be told that,” I joke, but at the same time, I’m completely serious. The nice word basically means you’ve entered the friend zone.

  “I think you are nice.”

  “Ouch. You wound me,” I say as I grip my chest.

  “It’s true. You act all rough and tough here, but I heard that caring side of you last night when you panicked about me. Okay, maybe it was a bit growly, but it was nice to have someone care.” She smiles.

  “Don’t tell the guys here about that. They would lose all respect for me if they thought I was a nice guy.”

  Jade comes over, wraps her arms around me, and squeezes. For a second, I stand there like an idiot, wondering what I should do. My arms dangle at my side in an awkward position and dangerously close to her ass.

  “Thanks for caring,” she whispers against my chest. Even though she’s tall, her head tucks under mine.

  When she says that, I wrap my arms around her. Last night, I had no right to feel possessive of her even though that was exactly how I felt. I didn’t want her to go out with a complete stranger. It’s not safe. I also didn’t want to think about that guy touching her in any way either, but I couldn’t stop it. And when I did, that’s when I sent all the messages to check on her. That guy didn’t deserve a single touch from her, especially one of her amazing hugs, which feels too good right now. I release my arms from around her after only holding her like for a moment, but it was long enough to get a w
hiff of her shampoo. It smells like sweet peaches and fresh, exactly like her. This girl shouldn’t be making me feel these things. I shouldn’t smell her like a goddamn dog, and I definitely shouldn’t react to her scent like I am. Which is half hard and aching.

  I clear my throat as she steps away from me and shove that feeling I have deep down. I already told myself I wouldn’t let another woman get to me for a long time. My heart needs to stay locked up tight. With Jade, it needs to have a chain wrapped around it too. Our friends would kill me if I did anything to hurt her. Staying in the friend zone is exactly where we need to be. “You know I’ll always be here if you need me, Jade. You want to tell me about Mr. Nice guy?”

  “There’s not much to say. We had a few drinks, dinner, and that was it.” She plops down next to the chest I am building. The one I still haven’t decided what the hell I’m going to use it for.

  “What was wrong with him? Did he smell? Did he have bad breath? Oh, I know; he was tattooed and pierced head to toe and looked nothing like his picture,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Nothing, no, no, and he looked exactly like his picture. There was just no spark. We both knew it, but it was a nice first date to go on.”

  The first date implies there will be more, and I don’t think I can handle her going out on more of these match dates. I feel like I need to keep her safe from each one of these guys. “Are you going out with him again?”

  “No. I meant first of many first dates when I go out with a different guy from Intuitions.”

  Fuck.

  “But I think I am going to wait before I do. Did you get the email from them last night?”

  I probably did, but the truth is, I couldn’t give two shits about the dating site. In fact, I only signed up to check the place out. When she said I was the only one who knew she signed up for this, I needed to take on the role of what I knew her friends would do and make sure she stayed safe.

  “I haven’t had a chance to look at my personal emails yet. Did I miss something important?”

  “Intuitions is hosting a speed dating night. I think I want to try it out.”

  “Hell, no,” I all but blurt out. I have better things to do with my time than that. I could sit in my workshop, choking on sawdust, and have a better time.

  “Why not? It sounds like fun,” Jade says.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Well, I’m doing it. They only have so many spots, so I paid this morning. So instead of one date, I get to go on close to fifty dates.”

  The thought of fifty men pawing at Jade fucks with my head. I think of her best friends, and what they would say to me if they knew I could have been there to watch over her.

  “Is there alcohol?” I ask because I have a feeling I’m going to need a shit ton of it to get through the night.

  “Yes, and it’s included with the registration fee. So, you’ll go?”

  “I guess,” I say as I run my hand through my hair.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For going when I know you really don’t want to.”

  I’m a sucker. I’m a chump. And I have a feeling, when it comes to Jade, I’m going to be doing a lot more things that I wouldn’t normally do just to keep an eye on her. I’m doing it for her friends. At least, that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.

  WELCOME TO INTUITIONS Speed Date Night. I've read the sign a thousand times while debating on whether I’ll be walking inside. Like an ass, I'm sitting in my parked truck wondering why I agreed to come to this joke of a night. The owner’s wallets are full of green; there's no doubt about it. At least a hundred cars are parked here that belong to chumps like me who paid the two-hundred-dollar fee.

  I keep asking myself, “Why am I doing this?”

  For Jade. After I gave it some thought and looked at the price of this shindig, I called her to say hell no, I’m not going, but she once again convinced me that this is a good idea. She said, “You have to come. It will be so much fun. And maybe you’ll actually pick someone to go on a date with instead of ignoring all your matches.”

  My response was, “Because your date with Linc went so well?”

  She shocks me when she says, “Well, you were right. He wasn’t my match, and I need some spice in my life desperately. That’s why I need you with me but not with me, with me.”

  After one week, she has all the guys at the job site eating out of her palm. Each one of them will eat dirt if she asks, and her eyes get big and her lips turn into a pout. It made me imagine all the guys at the speed date doing the same and I don’t like the thought of it. Then I remember how her big green doe eyes looked at me and pleaded earlier, I caved. Again.

  Even though she wants me here, she said there are rules. One being, we would not drive here together. Or walk through the door together. In fact, she told me we aren't supposed to talk to one another or make eye contact until we are put at the little table with one another.

  Later that night, she texted me the link to the actual rules to read over—the ones that Intuitions had on their signup sheet. Women are not allowed to wear pants, but casual dresses and skirts are fine. For us men, jeans are fine as long as they are dressy, and we must wear a jacket. Ties are not required, thank fuck. At first, we will be corralled into a waiting area and separated by sex, which makes us sound like cattle. I laughed at that because it basically is … a male and female meat market. After that, we will be corralled into rooms according to age. It looks like I’ll be prime grade in the twenty-five to thirty-five group. Okay, maybe that is a good thing. I’m right around that time of my life when clubbing is not cool, but I’m not quite in the zone of having game night with the neighbors.

  Everyone will choose a number from the bowl, and that table is our first stop. At each table is a list of prepared questions that are supposed to help break the ice. That’s the most fucking ridiculous thing I’ve heard of. Dating is not prepared notes; it’s spontaneity. Unless the world has decided boring is all the rage.

  Each couple will get seven minutes to answer those questions. At the beginning and end of those minutes, a bell will ring, letting us know when to move to the next table. What they are basically telling me is that some pathetic fuck—that’s me—gets to sit with a woman for seven minutes, thinking he might have a chance at taking her home, only to have a buzzer tell us to move along. What the actual fuck? There must be something in this document that states after this you may need therapy because your self-esteem is about to take a nosedive.

  It just keeps getting better. If at any time you and the person you are partnered with decide you are interested in one another, the man is to offer a flower to the woman and move to the party room upstairs. How will that work? In less than seven minutes, I’m supposed to decide that this chick is “the one”?

  The last rule is to have a good time. I doubt it, but I’ll try really hard to. Sarcasm is going to be loud tonight because I did the math. For four hours, I would meet thirty to thirty-four women, one less than that for me if I didn’t count Jade. Instead of thinking I have the potential of meeting all these beautiful women, I’m wondering how many terrible first dates I will go on. It’s my fault, though. I was dumb enough to agree, pay, and then read the fine print. If I could have, I would have demanded a refund for both of us. But the little asterisk at the bottom nixed that thought. *All sales are final.

  Then I get the text from her. I’m inside.

  It’s now or never. I head toward the hotel where this “event” is being held, and the whole cattle thing comes into play. The dating service took the no peeking at the merchandise very seriously. Men go down a separate hallway from the women. I get my fancy name tag and my number, five. At least it’s my lucky number. I still have ten minutes until go time, and we are allowed one drink, so I pick whiskey straight up. My phone buzzes once again just as I’m about to down my drink.

  Jade: This is going to be so much fun.

  Me: I thought we weren’t s
upposed to talk to one another.

  Jade: We’re texting not talking.

  Me: I think rule ten clearly stated no cell phones.

  Jade: Sometimes it’s fun to live on the wild side.

  I chuckle. If this is her rebelling, she needs to get out more.

  Me: My middle name is Rebel.

  Jade: No, it’s not.

  Me: How do you know?

  Jade: It’s on your profile.

  Damn. I didn’t bother to read anyone’s profile. We didn’t give our last names for obvious reasons, but middle names were optional.

  Jade: I like Clark. It reminds me of Superman.

  She just took my horrible middle name and made me proud of it. My entire life, I hated that name.

  “Sir, no phones are allowed.” The chick wearing the Intuitions shirt reminds me.

  Me: You just got me in trouble.

  Jade: Sorry not sorry. See you soon, Superman.

  “In just a moment, we are going to bring you to the dining hall. The tables are all marked with numbers, and you are to head directly over to the number you drew. There will be no asking your question with your match until the bell rings. Remember, this is quick and to the point. Oh, and happy dating.”

  Jesus, just get us out of here. Looking around the room, I see a decent mix of men for Jade to pick from. Short, tall, bald, and big. But the amount of cologne in here is starting to drive me crazy.

  Me: Bring on the ladies. Are they hot?

  Jade: You’re a pig.

  Me: Oink oink, Foxy.

  A VERY HANDSOME man is handing out flutes filled with champagne and strawberries as we walk into the room. At first, I was feeling a little nervous about coming tonight. I've never done a speed date night. I keep telling myself this is not me trying to find a husband. It's about finding someone I'd like to get to know a little better.

  Now that I'm here, I'm excited. The women are all friendly and very beautiful, but each one is different. Two women have a slightly more edgy look that I think will be a good match for Jeremy. One of them, Brandy, told me this is her third time coming and she had never laughed so much in her life, but she doesn’t want to settle down. Like me, she is looking for, to say it nicely, a companionship.