by Bella Jewel
“Are you Hartley?”
“Yes.” I smile.
He beams, his smile getting bigger. He has dimples. Cute. He extends a hand and I take it, as he curls his warm, soft fingers around mine. “I’m Richard. It’s wonderful to meet you. You look lovely tonight.”
My nerves ease. Okay, so this one seems nice. He’s nice-looking, too. That’s two off the checklist. Maybe we’ll be able to have a decent conversation and I’ll lose the urge to murder Taylor. I let my shoulders relax and give him my best smile. “Thank you, would you like to go inside?”
“Yes, I would,” he says.
I take the rose, impressed by the sweet gesture. I give him a genuine thank-you, and we both turn and enter the bar. It’s modern inside too, decked out in black and red, giving it a sleek, easygoing appeal. Richard leads me to a big red booth and I slide in. He sits across from me, placing his elbows on the table and focusing on me. A waitress comes over right away, and looks down at us. “Hi there, can I get you both a drink?”
“Just a rum and coke for me,” Richard says to her and then glances over to me.
I order a vodka and lime, and then focus back on the man sitting across from me when the waitress disappears. I don’t really know where to start the conversation, so I go with the usual questions.
“What do you do for a living, Richard?”
“I’m a lawyer,” he tells me. “It’s a very demanding job, but I do enjoy it. What about you?”
A lawyer. Very impressive.
“At the moment, I’m studying to become a midwife, so I’m just working until I’m finished with that.”
His brows go up. “A midwife. What made you want to do that?”
I shrug. “I started as a nurse, but would love to work in the field with babies, so I decided to take it to the next level.”
He nods, impressed. “Admirable.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “It’s a lot of hours, but I think it’ll be worth it.”
He nods thoughtfully. “My ex-girlfriend was a nurse. It took its toll on her, too. But it’ll be a very rewarding career. I think it always is when you’re able to help other people.”
I nod in agreement, crossing my ankles under the table. “Yes, it is tiring though.”
The waitress returns with our drinks, placing them down, and I take a sip of mine.
Richard continues talking. “Yes, she used to come home exhausted. Poor girl. I always felt so sorry for her.”
Ah, okay. It’s a little weird to bring up the ex-girlfriend in the first few minutes of the conversation with a girl you’re on a date with, but maybe he’s just anxious and can’t think of anything else to talk about. Or maybe he’s one of those men who just don’t really have any setbacks when it comes to talking about exes, because it’s in the past.
“Yes, it’s demanding work.” I decide to continue.
“Indeed it is.” He nods. “This one time, she worked over twenty-four hours. I didn’t see her. She never stopped, you know?”
Okay, enter more awkward ex-girlfriend talk. Maybe I should change the subject?
“Do you enjoy your job?” I ask. “It must be tiring as well. I hear lawyers work some long hours.”
He nods. “Yes. Mandy, my ex, she didn’t like it. She said she hated that I got called out all the time, but it’s a demanding job. I work more than I enjoy life sometimes. And she just couldn’t seem to understand that, you know?”
Oh dear.
He’s hung up on his ex.
Sigh. Might as well scrap this one as a potential person to date and just go with the flow. I have nothing else to do tonight, and I dressed up. Besides, I love a good story. So I settle in, sip my drink, and go for it.
“What happened with Mandy?”
His eyes sadden. Here we go. I’m going to need a double shot. I can already tell by his expression that whatever she did to him, really hurt.
“She cheated on me. It broke my heart. To be honest, I’m still recovering. I thought dating would help.”
Poor guy, that’s the absolute worst. I can handle a lot of things in a relationship, but cheating … I don’t think I could live with that. It’s awful.
“I’m really sorry. That must have been awful. I agree dating might help, but probably not until you’re ready.”
“I don’t know if I am, you know?” he agrees. “I loved her. I wanted a future with her, I just feel like I’ll never love anyone again…”
For the next three solid hours, I comfort Richard over his breakup with Mandy, who sounds like an absolute bitch. During this time, I nod, give him advice, and even pat him on the shoulder every so often. He’s a good sport, thanking me over and over and apologizing for leading me on. He even pays for all the drinks. I can’t deny that, as horrible as the story was, it was nice to talk about someone else’s problems and not focus on my own.
It also makes me realize there are so many people out there struggling, and I don’t want to always be seen as one of them. I lost my husband, and it still hurts daily, but I also have a chance to make something of my life. Seeing Richard, and seeing his pain, only makes it clear that I can’t reflect that on other people for the rest of my days. I have to move on eventually, and I want to, for the first time in what seems like forever, I actually want to consider what it might be like to live again.
Maybe Taylor was right, maybe these dates are good for me, even if I don’t actually walk away with a partner out of it. Maybe they’re just a good way for me to see that I’ve been living in a shell for four years, and I need to find myself and get back out there. I know Raymond would kick me right up the backside if he knew I was still holding onto him and not making something of my life. He would want this for me—that much I’m sure of with a hundred percent certainty.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel the crushing guilt at the thought of moving on.
Yes, maybe Taylor was right. Brat.
Once Richard has gone, I get a cab back home. I call Taylor the second I get in the car. I’m not unhappy about my evening, but this woman seriously needs to start paying more attention to the men she’s picking for me. I can only imagine what she’s going to present me with next.
“So?” she answers on the first ring, her voice all chipper and excited. “You were gone for a while, can I assume it went well?”
I snort. “You would be assuming wrong. The man was hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and I spent three hours comforting him. But outside of that, he wasn’t a bad guy and it was entertaining, but no more dates like this one—please.”
“Comforting him? Seriously? That’s a little funny.”
“Yes, seriously. I honestly felt sorry for the poor guy by the end of it.”
“You at least made a friend out of him, right?”
“I’m not going on another blind date if they’re all going to be like this,” I say to get my point across once more. “As fun as it is to get out, and as much as I don’t want to admit you were right in pushing me, there is only so much I can handle doing it this way.”
She exhales, long and dramatic. “Give me one more. I promise you he’ll be good, I’ll make sure of it.”
I make a dissatisfied hmmm sound in my throat. “I don’t believe you, considering the other two were meant to be good, and turned out not to be. I’m starting to think you’re finding this more entertaining than I am.”
She laughs again. “I know, I’m sorry. Please, one more. I promise it won’t be awful.”
I exhale with a groan. “One more, but I swear, I swear … if this one is bad, I’m setting you up on three dates myself so you can endure this too.”
“Deal.”
I mumble a curse under my breath. “I’m about to enter my building, I’ll call you later. Make the last one good, Tay.”
“On it.”
I hang up and step through the front doors and straight into a hard, muscled chest. I bounce off it, as if I weigh no more than a sack of feathers. I stumble backwards, tripping and landing o
n my butt with a humph. My dress rides up, and I quickly squirm, trying to shuffle it down before the entire foyer sees my underwear.
I look up to see Ace, staring down at me. His hand is already extending towards my arm, no doubt to pull me up, but I wave it off, horrified that he probably just got a good view of my underwear. At least I can be assured it was good underwear. Black lace. But there is also the fact that I just fell on my ass in front of him. Highly unattractive. Not that I care what he thinks.
“I didn’t see you there,” he murmurs. “Sorry.”
I scramble awkwardly a few times, and then push to my feet, with only a slight amount of grunting, and dust my bottom off before looking at him. “Of course you didn’t. Whatever. It’s fine.”
I try to step past him, but he stops me with that husky, damned amazing voice. It sends shivers up my spine, which I try very hard to ignore.
“Don’t forget this.”
He holds out my cell phone. I glance at it. Whoops. I must have dropped it, and I was about to storm off. I take the phone from his hand, and my fingers graze his as I do. Calloused. Rough. Hot.
“Thanks,” I mumble to my feet.
I’m not giving him any more than that after his comment the other night. Nope. I will not. Even if he did just save my cell phone’s life. I shove the phone right down the front of my dress, and stare at him. For a few long seconds, we just stare at each other, neither of us breaking eye contact. Something flares inside me as we lock eyes. Determination. Stubbornness. Feelings that have long lay dormant. They terrify, confuse, and excite me all at the same time.
His brow quirks, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he finally breaks eye contact and nods his head, disappearing out the doors I just came in through. I turn and watch him go, my eyes dropping to long, thick legs that stride with ease. Yes, he definitely stirs something in me. I just can’t put my finger on what.
It’s probably best if it stays that way, too.
FOUR
“This one is good, I promise,” Taylor tells me on the phone as I rush to the elevator, already late for date number three. “I even messaged him myself, to make sure he wasn’t telling lies about his profile. He seems like a good honest man, well spoken. I think you’ll thank me for this one.”
Panting, I say back, “He better be, Taylor. Honestly, I’m not going to be happy if I have to endure yet another dud.”
She giggles as I step into the elevator, still with my back to the door.
“I mean honestly, I know I’ve been alone for four years, but there is a limit to what I’m willing to put up with. As much as helping a broken man made me feel good about myself, it wasn’t what I’d call a good date. So I hope we’re lucky with number three.”
I turn around to check that the door is shut, then squeal when I see Ace standing there, staring at me. In the elevator. I didn’t hear him come in. I never see him riding on the elevator, and now suddenly he’s always here. Just my luck. My cheeks instantly turn red, and I fumble an “I’ll call you later” to Taylor before disconnecting, horrified that Ace probably heard my entire conversation. Now he knows I go on blind dates, and I have no doubt that whatever is going through his mind right now is something along the lines of “pathetic.”
Not making eye contact, I step over and press the button to take us to the lobby. Then I stand by the wall and cross my arms, still keeping my eyes to the ground. I don’t know if Ace expects me to talk with him, but if he thinks I’m going to, he’s sadly mistaken.
“Blind date, huh?”
So he did hear what I was saying. And of all the times he chooses to make conversation first, it’s about my lame love life and the fact that I am allowing my best friend to set me up on blind dates.
I shoot him a scowl, mostly to hide my utter embarrassment, and I mutter, “It’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations, but what should I expect, you’re hardly polite.”
His brows go up, and then he gets that broody look right back on his too perfect face. “Pretty hard not to hear you when you’re basically yelling it to the entire hall.”
I scoff. “I was not yelling it, and there is only one other person on this floor. So I think that counts as eavesdropping. Which, I repeat, is rude.”
“You’re not a very nice lady, are you?”
My mouth drops open. “I beg your pardon.” I lift a hand and wiggle a finger in his face. “I have said hello to you, on numerous occasions—I even waved once—and you, mister, were the one who ignored it. Not only that, when you did speak to me, you had no freaking idea who I was. So, it’s not me that isn’t nice, that’s all on you.”
He crosses his big arms over his chest, stretching that suit tight. I try, very hard, to keep my eyes on his when all they want to do is scour slowly down his body to get yet another mental image to torment my mind with. I know how good that suit looks, pulled across his muscles.
“You’re mouthy for someone so small.”
He. Did. Not.
I snap out of my thoughts and my mouth drops open, then closes. And then I growl, “And you’re arrogant for someone so, big…”
Jesus. Big.
I want to slap myself.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I go charging out, horrified and angry at Ace and his rude behavior. I won’t take it. I’m already in a bad enough mood as it is, after spending an entire night up studying, before working a full day at the café down the road, where I waitress. Now I’m about to endure date number three, which I’m less than happy about but want to get out of the way so Taylor can finally leave me alone.
“Don’t trip on your way out,” Ace mutters. I stop dead in my tracks and turn around.
A frustrated sound escapes my throat and I throw my hands up. “Seriously, if I was bigger … I’d … I’d … smack you!”
With that, I storm out the front doors as my Uber pulls up. I don’t stop and see if Ace exits the building too, I get in and then cross my arms, brooding the entire way to the restaurant. The driver has the radio blaring in the car, and I zone in on the story about the recent murders that have been happening. I remember hearing people at the café talking about it.
“This evening, another body was found. The third murder like this in the past year. While that doesn’t seem like a high number, the police are investigating if it’s the work of a serial killer, due to the familiar pattern with each victim. So far we can only confirm that they have all been killed in the same way and left to hang with a bowtie around their necks. At this stage, the name and age of the most recent victim is still unknown.”
I shiver.
That’s the third murder in this area, now. I had heard about the first one. It sent half the city into a frenzy, but police put it down to a sicko who decided to have a random kill. But then it happened again, and people got even more stressed out, when it was made known that the kill was identical to the first. Now a third. I rub my arms, suddenly feeling cold.
What is this world coming to?
“Terrible, isn’t it?” The driver says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It is. I hope they find him soon.”
“Me too. Three young lives ended in a horrific way. I hope they catch the bastard and give him what he deserves.”
This person—whoever it is—is twisted. I don’t know much about the killings, but from what I’ve seen on the news, he torments his victims, making them seem crazy by doing things to make them think they’re losing their minds, and then he takes them. I don’t know how he takes them, or how he lures them away, but he kills them, and when he’s done, he hangs them in a tree, with a bowtie around their neck. I saw an article recently saying the police think he’s been planning these murders for some time, and that they believe he has more lined up, due to how frequently he is taking his victims.
This girl, the one they have just found, I wonder how long he tormented her for? Did her family even know she was missing? Did anyone suspect something was wrong?
Does she even have a family, or does he pick the ones who are alone? I don’t know, but the possibilities are terrifying. I can only imagine what she went through. God, I don’t even want to think about it too long, it sends shivers down my spine.
I send a mental reminder to myself to check my locks when I get home, just to be sure.
When we arrive at the restaurant, I climb out of the car. I glance around—it’s a really nice place, a small Italian restaurant with warm lighting and big booths both inside and out. I let my eyes scan the people, seeing if there is anyone waiting, but it doesn’t seem there are any single men standing around, so I make my way over to a free table and sit down, glancing at my phone. I’m a little late. Maybe the guy won’t show and I can go home.
“You must be Hartley.”
The smooth, masculine voice has my head jerking up. My eyes widen when I see a good-looking man standing by the table, dressed in a pair of dark pants, a suede jacket, and a black tee. He’s exceptionally good-looking, with flawless pale skin, soft blue eyes, and mousy brown hair that’s trimmed neatly and brushed off to the side. He’s got the features of a model, not at all rugged, but perfectly proportioned to be on the cover of a magazine. He’s tall, too. Lovely.
“Hi,” I say, my voice coming out far huskier than I would have anticipated, but he’s definitely caught me off guard, I can’t deny that. “Yes, I am.”
His eyes light up, and he smiles, making him that much more good-looking. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jacob.”
Jacob.
Hot name.
I smile back, and this time it’s a real smile, not a forced one. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Jacob.”
So far, so good.
He nods to the chair beside me. “Mind if I take a seat?”
“Of course,” I say, waving a hand at the chair.
Jacob sits down, smiling at me from across the table. Yep, he’s certainly easy on the eyes. He’s also picked a really classy restaurant. Incredible food. I’ve been here a few times before, it’s most certainly memorable.
“Would you like a drink?” he offers.
Sweet Jesus. Yes.