An Over 60s Love Story (BWWM Billionaire Romance Book 1)

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An Over 60s Love Story (BWWM Billionaire Romance Book 1) Page 3

by BWWM Club


  At twenty minutes, she gave up on patience and texted him.

  I'm right outside the door.

  She frowned when she saw the reply. Why on earth...

  Why aren't you coming in?

  Rebecca watched the door, and she saw a man coming in.

  She would not have recognized him from the photos, anyway. For one thing, he had no hair.

  That was fine, of course. It wasn't like she had a strange insistence on hair for her dates. It was just that he hadn't mentioned that he had changed that much since he'd taken the photos. Maybe he'd been wearing considerably good toupees in the photos.

  He was, she realized, also a bit shorter than he'd said on his profile.

  Well, she supposed everybody lied a little bit online. The whole idea that men had to be tall to be attractive, did it really matter? What truly mattered was that they were good people who knew how to treat others well.

  The shirt he was wearing was nice - a very nice sky blue shirt with...

  She squinted as he came closer.

  Was that... Was that a KKK symbol?

  No, she couldn't possibly be seeing that right. That could not be a KKK symbol that he was wearing, the pin on his shirt.

  The swastika buckle of his belt, however, was pretty hard to misinterpret. It looked very much like a swastika.

  "Rebecca? I guess we got our signals crossed. I assumed we were meeting outside the cafe."

  He looked annoyed. There was no sign of that lovely smile that reached the eyes.

  "I guess so. I thought we meant to meet inside."

  Maybe she was just seeing things, thought Rebecca as she sat down. Fred was obviously not a white man. Logically, he could not be a member of a white supremacist group. It made no sense.

  "It's put something of a sour note on the beginning of our relationship, hasn't it? Well, I'm sure you will make up for it, Rebecca. Now, you haven't ordered? I expect you to pay your share, of course."

  "Of course. I wouldn't have it otherwise."

  She couldn't stop looking at it.

  Was that... Did he have a tattoo that said... No, he couldn't possibly have a Nazi slogan tattooed on his arm. It couldn't be.

  Rebecca couldn't keep sitting there and wondering, hoping she was making too much of something, wondering if she was absolutely mad for even considering it, wondering if she was seeing things.

  She took a deep breath.

  "Fred, I'm sorry if this is awkward, but the pin, and your belt buckle – Do you realize what those symbols mean?"

  Fred shrugged.

  "Hey, let's keep politics out of this and have a nice meal, shall we? Let's get to know each other a little before getting into all of that."

  "But that's not really possible, is it? You're wearing those symbols, so it's not possible to not get into it. Conversations aren't always only started with words. Sometimes, what you choose to bring to a conversation starts it. I mean, you know that sometimes items of decor are called conversation pieces! That's why they're called that. So I can't really ignore it, because it's looking me right in the eyes here."

  "Don't you believe in free speech, Rebecca?"

  Rebecca frowned.

  "Of course I do, Fred. That's what we're having here, isn't it? But the people who run those organizations don't really believe that I should have free speech. And many other things besides that. I don't understand because they wouldn't believe you deserve those things, either."

  "That's just a misconception. This is about how everybody is free to believe in what they believe, as long as they love this country and follow all her laws. There is no such thing as a wrong opinion here. There are only opinions you don't like, and ones that you do like. I don't see anything wrong in people wanting to look out for themselves."

  "But that's not what I was asking about at all. Are you... Are you telling me that..."

  Words trailed off.

  She couldn't believe this was happening.

  "You gave no indication that you held these beliefs when we talked," she pointed out, a little weakly.

  "I think that politics should stay out of dating and relationships."

  Rebecca considered that, she really did. Maybe there was a point to that. At least, there would be a point, except that his politics believed in rolling back hard-won rights that she had seen her parents struggle for, and she was not going to think of that as an academic point of some sort that didn't matter in real life.

  It mattered.

  Rebecca got to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, Fred. I understand that you are entitled to your beliefs. I really do. But I’m also entitled to mine, and mine cannot coexist with a version of myself that dates you.”

  Fred looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, and Rebecca understood, in that moment, that this was just a hypothetical to him. His beliefs were theoretical to him, not something that should ever affect his real life.

  She didn’t understand that, either. Had he really never experienced what comes out of such beliefs? Maybe he hadn’t.

  “You’re going to just leave? I drove all this way to meet you!”

  “I’m sorry you were inconvenienced, Fred. I truly am. But this would never work out. This café is supposed to be very good. Now that you’re here, you can enjoy this meal alone, much more than you would with me.”

  He glared at her.

  “You think you’re too good for me, don’t you? Well, I think I’m better off without you. You’re a judgmental piece of work.”

  Rebecca took a deep breath and held on to her temper. She had dealt with far worse. She wasn’t going to make a scene about this.

  “Goodbye, Fred.”

  With dignity, or at least, so she hoped, she walked out of the café, and she didn’t look back.

  She had dipped her toe back into the dating pool, and it had been a disaster, Rebecca thought as she got into her car. Maybe the worst was over. Surely it could only get better from there?

  Chapter 3

  Rebecca stared at her phone.

  She should delete the app, really. Obviously she was not a good judge of character from online conversations, or that would not have happened.

  She had blocked Fred after getting a few angry messages from him, and frankly, she didn't understand why he was so angry. So she had left, but she had left politely. He seemed to think that the fact that he had driven all that way meant that she owed him lunch or something.

  Well, she had driven, and she shouldn't have had to sit in such a ridiculous situation, apparently on a date with a neo-Nazi of color!

  She was beginning to understand why young people were so angry all the time, or when they weren't, so apathetic. They lived half their lives online. There was no way to know who you were spending time with. She should have considered online dating before retirement, even if only for a learning experience.

  Gift or not, she should just delete the app and call Grace and Lill to let them know what a silly idea it had been in the first place. She should...

  Her phone buzzed. The inbox icon blinked bright green as it did when she got a new message.

  She should just ignore it and delete the app.

  But...

  Well, there was that curiosity again.

  "You'd think I'd be too old to be led down that old garden path yet again," she muttered to herself, but she knew herself, too. She tapped the green button.

  Hello, beautiful. Can I get you a coffee? Or something more?

  Rebecca frowned.

  Well, that sounded pretty straightforward. There was no attempt to play coy, at least.

  I'd love to show you a good time.

  A good time.

  That was a bit ambitious. She was about to say no, as politely as she could, when he sent something - a file. A photo?

  Oh no. Was she getting her very first dick pic? Please don't let it be a...

  Rebecca scrunched up her face, closing one eye and squinting with the other.

  She opened it. />
  A duck!

  She laughed out loud, relieved, and sent that to the guy - LOL.

  A duck pic. No a...

  There was a second photo. Was that a... hockey puck?

  A duck puck! He'd sent her a duck puck. Oh, that was funny. She couldn’t resist replying.

  A quacking good time?

  The reply came quickly.

  If that's how you paddle.

  She didn't get the pun, but sure, thought Rebecca, why not?

  One more try. She would give this one more shot before she gave up. If it worked out with this guy - and by worked out, she meant that they could get through one coffee and still tolerate each other's company without finding anything irredeemably objectionable about each other - then she could consider staying on the app. If it was also a disaster, she would give up.

  Twice burnt was enough justification to give up, decided Rebecca.

  Having made up her mind, Rebecca didn't try to second-guess herself. She didn't give herself much of a chance to change her mind, either.

  How about coffee?

  She waited.

  Coffee sounds good. Give me a location and I can meet you in half an hour.

  Half an hour - that was a lot faster than she had anticipated. Two dates in one day. No, that was too much, wasn't it? That wasn't done. There were probably rules of some sort against it. She had no idea what the dating rules were like anymore.

  Isn't that a bit too fast?

  She waited, chewing her bottom lip a little anxiously.

  No time to waste, and no time like the present. You name the place if you like.

  Rebecca considered it. This was probably an absolutely terrible idea. She should go through his profile properly, do some more research with his name and details to find out if there could possibly be any rude shocks waiting for her, and she should, really, take a step back and consider why she was doing this at all.

  But a strange recklessness took hold of her.

  Two hours. Coffee.

  She sent him a location.

  "You're going to let this one be a surprise,” she said aloud. “You talked to Fred for ages and see how that turned out! This one - Dale Samson, a nice, solid name - is going to be a complete surprise. Maybe this way, it will be a pleasant surprise."

  It didn't give her much time to worry, and she was still dressed neatly and nicely from lunch. She made herself a meatloaf sandwich and tried not to think about what she was doing with her Saturday.

  "Roger, you must think I've gone completely mad. Maybe I have gone completely mad. Would that be such a bad thing? You should have been there when Fred walked in. You could have knocked me over with a feather! I don't understand some people. Well, I guess it's not on me to understand them. And I don't need to waste my Saturday, either. I will go to the bookstore and get some books for my horticulture course and maybe for my taekwondo classes, and then I will go to the cafe. I'm not going to let this ruin my day."

  Determined, feeling better after having made up her mind to do something productive, Rebecca set off.

  She was going to enjoy her weekend and her retirement. With or without that damned app.

  Two hours later, Rebecca sat in the cafe, far more relaxed. She had bought more books than she had originally intended. She had a list from the big reference books, too. So she would have to go to the library and get a few of those, as well.

  Even if this coffee date with Dale turned out to be a second disaster to follow lunch with Fred, she would've had a good Saturday.

  "Rebecca?"

  The voice was warm, smooth, sweet and viscous like good honey. Oh, that was a good start, wasn't it?

  Rebecca turned around and nearly yelped in surprise.

  So, that was Dale. She could see that it was definitely Dale.

  Except Dale was definitely not older than forty, and that was being very generous. He was probably in his mid-thirties, from what she could figure. He wore fairly tight jeans, a tighter T-shirt, and was obviously there for her.

  "Dale?"

  "That's me. Surprised? You've been shopping, that's excellent! What can I get you?"

  "I... Just a regular decaf, I think, thank you. I..."

  "Great," said Dale as he waved a waitress over and placed the order - a complicated order for himself, and a decaf regular for her.

  He leaned forward with his chin in his hands when the server walked away.

  "You look far lovelier in person than you do in your photo, Rebecca. That's a delightful surprise since you look beautiful in that photo."

  "I... Thank you, that's very sweet of you."

  "So, martial arts? That's not a very common interest among people who frequent that website!"

  "It's not?"

  "Well, would you say it is? All those hip replacements, I wouldn't consider it likely."

  She had to resist the urge to pat her own hip. She wasn't in a place where she needed one, thank heavens for that, but in another decade, it wouldn't be a shock.

  "And horticulture. That is quite technical. Of course, I know nothing about horticulture. I'm not an expert at martial arts, either, but I know a bit. So, Rebecca, tell me all about yourself."

  Rebecca was at a complete loss.

  "Ah, I see our order is ready."

  He patted his pocket and frowned.

  "Now, this is a bit embarrassing, but I might need you to pay for our coffee. I seem to have misplaced by wallet."

  "Oh... Of course."

  Rebecca was completely confused. She had no idea what was going on, and she had even less idea what she was supposed to do in such a situation.

  "Well, now that that's been sorted out, I suppose I'm free to get that éclair, it looks good! Anything for you?"

  Rebecca watched as Dale proceeded to eat an éclair, a doughnut, a sandwich, two muffins and a slice of chocolate cake. All while being very charming, of course. He was a particularly charming and a particularly gluttonous young man.

  It wasn't as if she particularly minded paying for it, though it did feel a bit as if...

  Something clicked.

  "I'm sorry, Dale, but how old are you?"

  "You are as old as you feel, aren't you?"

  "That's very nice in theory, I'm sure. But the service is meant to be for people who are over sixty, and it doesn't seem like you're over sixty. You don’t look like you feel over sixty, either."

  "I think there's a little room for interpretation with the terms and conditions of that app. I think of it this way - if you want to date people who are over sixty, you should use that service. I do, and here I am!"

  "But how old are you?" asked Rebecca, giving up her attempts at avoiding direct questions.

  "I'm old enough to show you a very good time. I'm old enough to give you everything you need, Rebecca. Everything you want. Anything you want."

  Rebecca frowned.

  "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

  "For a price, of course."

  Rebecca's jaw dropped, slowly and comically. Her brain caught up soon after.

  "You're trying to tell me that you're... you're..."

  "Look, don't think about it too much. I've made you feel good, haven't I? I can make you feel better. You're a beautiful woman, you are vibrant and interesting, and I want to get to know you better. I want to get to see what you're like. I want to see how you handle martial arts, and I want to find out what you like - then I want to do all the things you like."

  Rebecca felt the heat in her cheeks.

  Oh, Lord. She sure could pick them.

  "For a price," she added, weakly.

  "Everything has a price, Rebecca. I just charge it in money, and really, it's cheaper than the price most people demand. They demand pieces of your heart and soul. I only want money. You can trust me."

  "Trust you?"

  "I suppose it's an odd way to meet somebody, but why not? At least you can be sure that I'm not hiding anything. There will be no nasty surprises."

  The damnedest th
ing was that she was beginning to see his point of view. Rebecca was beginning to nod along. It was as if the young man had strange powers, which came, of course, with great responsibilities.

  "All right, so... So I... No, wait. You're a..."

  "I don't like putting labels to it, you know? Besides, you're right, I am younger. Better chance of things working."

  It took Rebecca a long second to work that out.

  Oh! Oh, he meant... Oh!

  Oh, no.

  "Dale, you're a lovely young man, a very confident young man, and for whatever reason, you seem to know what you want and what you're doing. But you must see how this is a bit of a shock to me. This is not what I was expecting when I came here at all. I was expecting to have coffee with a man of my own age, who was looking for the same thing I was looking for. And instead..."

  "And instead, you don't have to guess. You have found me. Be honest, Rebecca. Isn't this better? Aren't I better than what you'd hoped for?"

  Rebecca shook her head, more to clear it than in denial.

  "I... Thank you for your kind offer, Dale, but I think I'm going to pass."

  Dale sat back and tossed her a very charming smile, shrugging a little.

  "Well, I guess I can't say I'm surprised. A little disappointed, but not surprised. You're new to this game, huh?"

  "Very new," admitted Rebecca.

  "Then no wonder you didn't catch the signals I gave. Well, no harm done, Rebecca. Though I should warn you, if somebody suggests a meeting so quickly, it usually means that it's going to be a cash transaction of some sort conducted in a great deal of privacy."

  "Oh!"

  "You are quite adorable, do you know that? It's very nice. I usually meet women who know exactly what they want and aren't shy about asking for it. I don't mind that, it's a good time for me, too. But you're very sweet. I was hoping I'd finally met somebody who wanted to take things a little slow and we could have some fun, but... You know, I could still show you a good time. We could still have a lot of fun."

  "I'm sure we could, Dale, but... But it's really not what I'm looking for."

  Dale tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back, and for one strange and very hot moment, Rebecca considered it. His t-shirt stretched tight over his torso and she really did consider it.

 

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