I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Mom. That’s so sweet.”
She smiles warmly and I forget all about her opinions she shared back in my apartment. She may be sharp around the edges, but inside she’s soft.
“And you know,” she says, “you might as well invite this bachelor as your date to your show.”
I practically choke on my water. “And here I thought you were being nice.”
Mom reaches across the table, tracing the mystery man’s face. “It would be a shame to waste a man like that, wouldn’t it?”
I snort. “You won’t drop this until I go out with him, will you?”
Mom reaches for the menu, a sparkle in her eye. “We can get dessert if you promise.”
I snatch the menu from her hand, rolling my eyes. “You know your way into my heart, I’ll give you that.”
2
NEIL
I’m just finishing up a meeting with my in-house team when my secretary Linsey tells me there is a Grace Graham on the phone. I stiffen at her name, and immediately end the meeting.
I pick up the phone, sitting in my black leather chair overlooking the beautiful city of Saint Louis. Not a metropolis, but that is the beauty of living in the digital age. We can work where we want and yet have clients all over the world. My family is from the farmlands of this state and I moved here after college. Became a self-made millionaire, and now am mostly described by my parents as a workaholic.
But money doesn’t make itself. And the fact is, my parents needed my cash to save the family farm. So they may give me a sideways glance at holidays, but it’s my capital that keeps a roof over everyone’s head.
I take the call, putting Grace through. When she picks up, her upbeat voice startles me. It’s not that I can’t handle sweet, but God, she is so sugary my tooth aches.
“I have good news, Neil!”
“And what’s that?” I ask briskly. I contacted her agency to find me a wife, not to chit chat when I could be buying and selling stocks to make my clients money.
“I have a match for you!” She is practically bubbling over with excitement and I try not to roll my eyes.
“Can you email me the information?” I ask.
“I can tell you all about her over the phone.”
“Did you follow my requests? Organized, put-together, and ready to settle down and get married?”
“Yes, I mean she is all those things, according to her application.”
“You haven’t met her?”
Grace scoffs. “You are the one who asked me to put aside other clients to make this happen. She says she is available to meet next week. But that is the best I can do on such short notice.”
I run a hand over my jaw. I gave Grace a timeframe when I contacted her, because I knew if I didn’t I would back out of this whole arrangement.
It’s been so long since I dated anyone. I know it’s time — and not just because it’s been way too long since a woman shared my bed … I need to move on with my life. I’ve poured myself into my work the last four years and it’s made me rich as fuck, but some nights … damn, they are long and lonely.
“No, next week is fine.”
Grace sighs with relief. “Oh, that is so good to hear, Neil. Now here is the information….”
By the time I hang up with Grace, I have plans to meet this mystery woman next Thursday at the restaurant inside the All Saints Inn hotel at six o’clock.
My secretary Linsey knows I have a date. It’s a big enough deal on my calendar that she has it blocked out in red. Today is the day.
Before she leaves for the day, she knocks on my door. “There’s a fresh suit for you in your closet, Mr. Johnson,” she tells me.
I nod. “Thank you.” When she doesn’t leave, I ask, “Anything else?”
She bites her bottom lip. She has been with me for a few years and she knows me better than most people. “Are you nervous?”
My jaw tightens and I frown, looking down at my computer. “Why would I be nervous, Linsey?”
“You just … never since … I mean.”
“I understand, but no, I’m not nervous.” I lift a hand, dismissing her.
She apologizes as she walks away, but I merely stand and close my office door, locking it. Then I lean my head against the wooden door and take a deep breath. I am a smart and savvy businessman. I can handle a date. It’s not that big of a deal.
Except it is.
I haven’t dated anyone since Margene. Since … well, since I started my life over.
But it’s time. I know that — and my cock, hell, it knows it too.
I put on the suit and grab a cab to midtown. I never come here. It’s the art district and I sure as hell have no reason to traipse these streets on Friday nights art walks. That’s when I’m closing business deals before people — lazier people than I — take the weekend off.