Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
With that, we giggle and turn back to our books even though my mind is still whirring. After all, I don’t really want to go on this date with my friend’s uncle, even if turns out to be an eye-catching hunk of man. I’d much rather read a good romance novel safe and snug in bed, thank you very much. But somehow, I’ve been roped into doing my friend a favor, and if this Blake person is easy on the eyes, then why not? I might as well enjoy the movie, and to my surprise, a curl of anticipation rises through my breast.
“So your uncle’s forty?” I ask casually as Flora opens her notebook.
“Mm-hm,” she says in an absent-minded tone. “And oh, he’s recently divorced. But Blake’s really hot and already has lots of women clamoring to go out him,” she adds.
I wrinkle my nose.
“Recently divorced? Like how recent?”
Flora shrugs.
“Maybe six months? Three months? One week? Honestly, I’m not sure.”
I pin her with a look.
“This date is clearly going nowhere. I hope he knows that, and I hope you know that.”
My friend merely giggles.
“I’ll just say I have a friend who’d like some company at the movies, and I’ll sure he’ll be cool with it. Relax, Cindy. It’s going to be fine.”
With another sigh, I turn back to my textbook. Great. Now I’m going on a date with a recently divorced forty-year old man whom my friend swears up and down is as handsome as sin. Flora’s probably exaggerating, but at this point, I’m in too deep to bail, and I merely shake my head while staring at the words in my book. Hopefully, Blake Reynolds makes it all worth it, and if he doesn’t? It’s no skin off my nose.
2
Cindy
I mosey up to the theater, looking around. The afternoon sidewalk glints before me in the chill, wintry air. I peer to the right, and then to the left, shivering a bit beneath my sweater. Where’s my so-called date? I’m a little late even though I’ve been wanting to see this movie for a while.
After all, 21 Bridges is set in Manhattan, and New York City is where I want to move after graduation. Here, in our little podunk town, there isn’t even so much as one bridge. The river over on the west side has a rapid current, but it’s something you can cross by using stepping stones. No one saw the need to build an actual bridge.
By contrast, the name 21 Bridges refers to the twenty-one bridges on the island of Manhattan. Imagine that! It’s a city teeming with people. So many, in fact, that they need almost two dozen bridges just to keep the place in business. My smile grows wide. I have no idea how I’m going to get to Manhattan after graduation next year, but it’s in the cards. I know it. I can feel it in my blood.
Suddenly, a low voice sounds behind me.
“Cindy?”
I whirl around, surprised. He must have been right behind me this entire time because I didn’t hear any footsteps approach. When I see my date, my eyes grow as round as saucers and my heart begins to accelerate.
“Um, Blake?” I ask in a reedy voice. “Flora’s uncle?”
The dark man throws his head back and laughs, showing off even white teeth.
“You’ve got it,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you. I know you’re here because my niece is going out with some lughead this afternoon. Thanks for taking one for the team, if I do say so myself.”
Instantly, my cheeks go red.
“Um no, it’s fine,” I say in a rushed voice. “I wanted to see this movie, so it’s no big deal. Thank you for coming.”
Blake grins and my heart goes pitter-patter again because Flora wasn’t exaggerating when she said her uncle was good-looking. This specimen is pure man candy, and even now, I can see a couple of middle-aged women around us sneaking glances his way. He’s at least six foot three, with the chiseled features of a movie star. He’s got a strong nose, a high brow, and perfectly-molded lips that are masculine yet sensual at once. Plus, he’s dressed in a green sweater that highlights his broad shoulders and dark-washed jeans that drape just so off of his hips.
I sneak a look at his hand. Yep, there’s a thin strip of white on his left ring-finger, which tells me that he used to wear a wedding band. Gosh, this guy really is recently divorced.
“You look nice,” he rumbles with amusement, letting his eyes rove up and down my form. “You didn’t have to get dressed up.”
I choke a bit, flushing pink.
“Oh no, I didn’t get dressed up. I just bought this skirt at Nordstrom’s yesterday, and I wanted to wear it. They opened last week in the town next door, so I drove right over to check out their sales.”