Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Well, shit.
The raffle was set to run until midnight, so there was still time for more people to enter, but that didn’t bode well. I should have thrown out my ticket. At the very least, I should’ve had the sense to check the boxes ahead of time and not pick the one where I was almost guaranteed to end up on a blind date.
But at least I could go home, now that I’d completed my mission and turned in the ticket. I left my glass on the bar and headed to the restroom. It was nearly as crowded as the club itself, with newly formed couples getting busy in the corners and some of the stalls. How romantic.
I sidestepped two guys grinding on each other beside the sinks and checked my reflection in the mirror. My half-Korean and half-Black heritage had bestowed me with dark eyes, a slightly tan complexion, and black hair that had no damn idea what it was supposed to be doing. Skye’s attempts at fluffing it made me look like I’d lost a fight with a leaf blower, and I tried to tamp it down a bit before stepping into one of the stalls.
Just then, my phone buzzed. The message from Dare said he’d requested a Lyft, and he and Skye were going to wait for me out front. In the next instant, the stall door slammed open. Two people stuffed themselves through it and knocked my phone into the toilet as they bounced off me. I yelled, “What the actual fuck!”
The couple had been making out wildly, and they seemed startled as they came up for air and looked around. The fact that one of them was the guy with pink hair didn’t surprise me. His partner, a beefy jock type, muttered, “Sorry, dude.”
Pinky said, “Oops,” before dragging jock boy out of the stall, and I cringed as I plunged my hand into the toilet.
After I mummified the phone in paper towels and washed my hands six times, I left the restroom and headed for the exit. Along the way, a cute guy flashed me a flirtatious smile and called, “Leaving already?”
There was a time when I would have taken the bait and struck up a conversation. That was back when I was still optimistic enough to take chances and put myself out there. But now, I just nodded and kept walking.
Chapter 2
The following Friday, I rode a rumbling, historic streetcar down to Jack London Square. Normally, the quaint collection of shops and restaurants near the waterfront would have been bustling with activity, but not today. After I got off at my stop, I walked three blocks to a business called The Great Escape, in weather I would have described as blustery, if I lived in the Hundred Acre Wood.
Not surprisingly, I’d won the blind date. When I’d gotten the call on Monday, they’d confirmed that particular prize had only received two entries. I’d spent the rest of the week working on that whole mustering enthusiasm thing, but had failed pretty spectacularly. I just couldn’t shake the gray cloud that seemed to follow me everywhere.
Ironically, literal gray clouds were following me that September afternoon. What looked like a pretty major storm was brewing over the nearby estuary, and it was just a matter of time before the sky opened up. Wind tugged at my coat as I paused on the sidewalk and took a look at my destination.
The business was housed in an elegant Victorian that had probably been built at the turn of the last century. It looked a lot like the house I’d grown up in, except that this one had recently received a snazzy new paint job in five or six shades of green. That brought out the period details and called attention to several elaborate stained glass windows.
A banner above the front porch read “Grand Opening,” and it fluttered in the ever-increasing wind. As I jogged up the steps, it tore loose at one end and started whipping around wildly. I had to fight it off on my way into the building, and in the next instant, it broke free and sailed down the waterfront. If I was someone who believed in omens, that would have been a bad one.
Once inside, I took off my coat and looked down at myself. I was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and a gray hoodie, which sent a pretty clear message about how invested I was in this date. A short, red-haired guy of about twenty rushed over to me with a big smile and took my coat as he exclaimed, “Welcome! Are you Patrick or Ryan?”
“Patrick. Rick, actually. Only my dad uses my full name.”
“Well, come on in, Rick. I’ve got you all set up in the library on the top floor. I just need you to sign a waiver and turn in your phone, and then you can head upstairs and make yourself comfortable. By the way, somebody from Heart2Heart dropped off a few goodies for you and your date. You’ll see them when you get up there.”