Okay, now Jason was beginning to hate her. His gear was from the Men’s Warehouse and the salesman had said those exact words to him.
Now this is a look that works well at both the office and after work, the Men’s Warehouse salesman had said while mentally trying to calculate his commission. He was a sixty-year-old white man who would have sold Jason pink-and-black-checked Sansabelt slacks from the 1970s if he knew Jason was going to purchase something worth more than $100.
Why in the world did I follow his advice, Jason thought at this moment.
“Your attitude and your clothes, everything points to being an extremely plain and safe young man,” she continued, long after Jason had hoped she’d stop. “You have no sense of adventure, or spontaneity about you.
“I bet you’ve never done an impulsive thing in your life.”
She paused for a second, staring at him. She stared at him for a good thirty seconds, bringing her face directly in front of his, almost touching his nose.
“What?” he asked, getting nervous.
She moved her face and sat back in her chair.
“See, if you were daring and dangerous, you would have taken me by the face, kissed me with the most passionate kiss you’ve ever given a woman, and then told me ‘How’s that about spontaneity?’”
She got up from the bar and gave him one last piece of advice. “But you didn’t, and so you missed out, darling. See, you have to understand that I, and every other woman on this planet, get safe and plain everywhere else in my life. I don’t want it in a lover or even a boyfriend.”
She finished her martini and placed it on the bar. She reached into her purse, pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down her number.
“So what is my final piece of advice to you? Go get you some money, or look like you have some money, and then get yourself some style. You’re probably smart as all hell, but women don’t look for smart at the start. We look at looks, which of course means that we are as superficial as you guys. Look me up when you’ve got your stuff together. I’ll still be here.”
And just like that, she smiled and left, with her number on the bar. And it was at that moment that Jason knew things had to change. Before Vanessa, he would have settled for a Friday night of beef Stroganoff and television. But not tonight, not after that reality check. No, this Friday was going to be different. He was getting dressed to go to G. Garvin’s. And he was looking for a woman.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2007 by Lawrence Ross
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 0-7582-4892-X
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