Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
He finally looks up at me. I take a breath, my fingers tangling in my lap. Everywhere? He’s been everywhere? Irritation claws at me.
“Well… I’m from Atlanta, too. I went to Decatur High School—”
“A public school?” he interrupts.
I wait a moment to answer him, my body heat rising. “Yes. I also went to Brenau University—”
“You went where?” he asks, his nose wrinkling.
“Brenau? It’s a women’s college—”
“Oh, a girls school,” he says, tapping his hand on the bar top and leaning back some on his stool. I smile thinly.
“It’s actually a private college.” It’s where I went before Rhode Island School of Design. Both are damn good institutions, and I’m proud of the fact I was accepted to them.
He actually rolls his eyes as he takes another drink of the beer, the one I paid for, and says, “Yeah, okay.”
I seriously need to get out of here.
He takes a moment to savor his beer. I stand, shouldering my purse. Anger is just simmering beneath the surface. I’ve never been treated so poorly in my life.
“Where are you going?” he asks, surprised.
“I’m going to go ahead and leave,” I say.
“Wait— you can’t just leave like this, in the middle of our date!” He has the nerve to raise his voice loud enough to get the attention of the men around us.
I wave my arm frantically at the bartender, not because he doesn’t see but more than likely because of the nerves racing through me. “I’d like to close out.”
A night with Diane would have actually been better than this.
The bartender must see my frustration from where he’s pouring drinks down the bar because he says, “You’re all set, it’s on the house.”
“Thanks!” I call to him and wish it came out less shaky. He’s literally my hero right now for not making me wait another second with the jackass who has already turned his back to me to ask a woman a few seats down if she wants a drink he just paid for.
I don’t even bother to correct him; he isn’t getting another second from me.
Rushing to get inside my car, I pull out of the parking lot, feeling completely sick over what just happened. Did that even happen? That was real, wasn’t it?
Disbelief consumes me as I blow out a breath and my car hits the interstate. I’m almost on autopilot driving through evening traffic while my mind is elsewhere, trying to forget what a miserable first date that was. I settle into my seat and try to calm down as I look at the time on the dashboard.
I don’t want to go home and be alone after that bullshit. I know there’s only one place I want to be right now, and only one guy’s smile I want to see…
Charlie
I found the perfect woman for you.
She’s going to be at the wedding.
Leaning forward on the bar with my head in my hands, I groan when I read my mother’s texts. I wish she’d just leave it alone. I don’t have the time, or the energy. I’m not ready for anything serious. She’s already text me twice since I left my parent’s house to come back to work.
“Well.” The barstool on the other side of the bar squeaks as she continues. “You look like you’re having an even worse day than I am.”
Grace’s soft voice makes a grin play on my lips. I raise my head slowly, still resting my forearms on the bar, and peek up to see the pretty blue eyes I knew would be there staring back at me.
“You have no idea,” I tell her as I push off the bar and stop mid response to my mother.
Grace turns her shoulder to me, the smell of her perfume wafting toward me. Her long hair falls off her shoulder and exposes more of the bare skin of her slender neck. All I can hear is the rustling in her purse while she looks for her card. This place is packed, but seeing her after the dinner I had tonight… it’s like no one else is here.
A small huff of a laugh comes from deep in my throat. Grace has a few habits, and one of them is that she always puts her tab on her card when she’s ordering food.
“The special?” I ask her. I walk backward toward the double doors that lead to the back.
She looks up at me, still hunched over her purse and smiles wide. “Of course.”
Chicken tenders and fries. It’s our special on Tuesdays, and Grace always gets the special. I call out to the back, pushing the doors open, then I grab her card to put the order through.
“What’ll you have to drink, sweetheart?” I ask, looking up at her from across the bar. I have to raise my voice, and I see a few of the men look over at me and notice her.