Not tonight, and hopefully not ever...
She’s so much better than a one-night stand.
TWELVE
Thalia
THIS IS A BAD, BAD IDEA.
Why did I agree to go out with him? I’m not attracted to him on any level. I don’t even particularly like him. There’s no chemistry between us... so why am I doing it?
Because I’m petty, apparently.
I’m stooping to the lowest level. Sinking to the bottom, desperate to get Theo’s attention. I’m childish, immature, and plain stupid.
I’m trying to make him jealous.
A drink with Dean, one of the young, wealthy, flirty golfers, seemed like a good idea when he asked me out this morning... not for the first time. The idea is no longer good. It’s idiotic at best because Dean isn’t the man I want.
Theo is, but he doesn’t want to fuck me, let alone date me.
He’s in the living room, working on the game when I leave my bedroom wearing a cute but sexy blue dress that falls to my mid-thighs, hugging my curves.
I’m not thin by any definition. I could lose a few pounds. Maybe more than just a few, but I’m lazy, and despite the extra weight, I’m comfortable in my own skin. Big boobs and a nice ass are an undeniable bonus of avoiding the gym. Wobbly tummy and thick thighs could do with a bit of work and toning, but again...lazy.
Theo peers up from the laptop screen, eyes slowly taking me in before he meets my gaze, his handsome face void of emotion. “Where are you going?”
“I have a date. Dean invited me out for a drink.” I hate myself for seeing this through. “He’s been very persistent since I started working at the Country Club.”
Theo shoves the laptop aside, a sly, derogatory smirk curving his lips, the gesture laced with mockery. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that drink isnota date. It’s a play to fuck you.”
Rocking on my heels, I readjust my bag, taken aback by his clipped tone and how much the comment stings. “Thank you for that. Good to know that’s all men could want from me.”
Theo’s expression changes to a pained one, as if he just realized what he implied. “I didn’t mean it that way, but I know Dean. He doesn’t want to date you. You or anyone else.”
My cell pings in my bag, letting me know the Uber I ordered waits outside. Defeated and painfully aware of how idiotic the date with Dean is, I pivot on my heel. “Good night.”
“Thalia, wait.” He jogs up to me, blocking the door with his big, deliciously smelling body. “Call it off. Don’t waste your time. Dean’s an ass,omorfiá.”
“It seems that everyone in this town is an ass, but I’ll take the risk,” I say through gritted teeth, adamant about seeing the date through, especially now that I have something to prove—Dean doesn’t just want to sleep with me. There are easier ways to get a woman in bed than a date. “He wouldn’t have asked me out if he’s only interested in sex. He likes me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Wow...” I mouth, arms crossed over my chest. “Two for two. You’re on a roll tonight.” I shove him aside, grab the handle, and burst out the door before he tries to insult me again.
???
Newport Beach is dotted with small and large cocktail bars, restaurants, and clubs to accommodate the luxurious tastes of the elite. The bar Dean chose is one of the most expensive places on the main street.
Luxury slaps you across the face the second you step inside. It drips from high-end furniture and the sophisticated splendor of the interior design.
It’s Monday, but the place is far from deserted.
A group of elegant women in their forties sits by a long table, dressed to impress, necks adorned with diamonds, hair styled for the red carpet. Two young couples enjoy drinks and light snacks near the window, men dressed in suits. A bunch of friends are tucked away in the corner by a wall, wallpapered with old newspapers.
Dean’s in a suit too. A navy-fitted blazer hugs his shoulders, a white shirt underneath, and his hair is sleeked to the side. The conversation runs smoothly for over an hour. We talk about my life in Greece, or the vague story I’m willing to tell, and his work. He’s nice, for lack of a better word. Talking to him is as easy as talking to Shawn or Jack, but sparks aren’t flying, and my heart isn’t racing. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m bored. I hoped I’d find him attractive once I got to know him better, but he’s not growing on me.
I’m forced to admit defeat.