“What? Are you saying he’s not into women?”
“I don’t know. I just feel that you deserve more than a guy who doesn’t seem to even notice you as a sexual being.”
“It’s a first date and it’s awkward with all of you there. Things aren’t progressing the way a normal first date would.”
“He hasn’t even looked at your boobs! Not once!”
“He’s a gentleman. And this top isn’t exactly meant to tempt a man’s eyes in that direction.” She was wearing a high-collared blouse with a soft, flowing skirt tonight. Not unattractive, but not exactly designed to set a man on fire with lust.
“Please, no man is that much of a gentleman. If your boobs aren’t tempting, why have Brand’s eyes not strayed from them most of the evening?”
“They haven’t?” Naturally she had been aware of his gaze all evening, but she had been too busy not looking at Brand to know where his eyes were focused.
“Oh, there may have been a slight break between dinner and dessert, but they’ve constantly wandered to your boobs throughout the night.”
“Michael’s not gay.”
“Maybe not, maybe he likes girls, too, but the man’s tongue nearly fell out when he saw Brand. Now call me crazy, but I think your date should be reacting that way to you, not to one of your dinner companions. Look, I don’t want you to get your hopes up about this guy only to be disappointed, okay?”
Lia nodded miserably as she considered her conversation with Michael tonight. He’d been very nice and very friendly, but also distant and polite. Not exactly showing an interest in her at all.
Even if Daisy was wrong and he wasn’t interested in Brand, he definitely wasn’t into Lia, and, honestly, she wasn’t into him, either. Her shoulders fell, and Daisy hugged her.
“I’m sorry, Lia,” she said, genuinely contrite. “I was hoping you’d clue in before I had to spell it out for you.”
“That’s okay. I’ve been having no luck dating at all.”
“Well, if all else fails, at least you know Brand thinks your boobies are riveting,” Daisy teased, and Lia fought back a blush.
“Shut up,” she mumbled, too scared to say much more than that for fear of alerting her sister to the fact that Brand was most likely staring at her breasts because he knew how they looked naked.
“Brand’s a nice enough guy, but such a player. Mason once told me that he’s a prick—’scuse the French—with women.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, a real love-’em-and-leave-’em type. Once he moves on, which is usually after just a few weeks, he deletes all pictures, contact details, and correspondence from them off his phone and computer. He erases them from his life, as if they never existed. Never mentions them again.”
“Is that so?” Lia asked faintly, wondering if Sam had erased her number yet.
“Yes.” Daisy turned to check her makeup and met Lia’s eyes in the mirror. “But the weird thing is the women are aware of his terms, and for the most part they’re happy enough to move on afterward. There have been a few who went a bit stalkery, though, wouldn’t accept that he meant it when he told them it was over.”
“What did he do?” Lia asked breathlessly.
“Mason says restraining orders and stern lectures from the police usually did the trick.”
How humiliating for those women.
“We should probably head back,” Lia said, feeling a bit queasy after the reveal about Michael and the information about Brand.
Dinner ended soon after the women returned to the table. Lia kept her interaction with Michael light and friendly. They argued amicably over the bill until she charmingly relented and allowed him to cover their portion of the meal.
“I’ll chat with you tomorrow, Daisy,” Lia promised, giving her sister a hug and a kiss. She followed that up with a hug for Mason.
“Good night, Brand,” she said curtly, still not meeting his eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you, Lia. Take care, Kendrick.”
Michael barely looked at Brand, just nodded, before he politely escorted Lia out of the restaurant and to her car.
“I had a nice evening,” he said, his voice neutral.
“Me too,” she said, wrapping her cardigan around her to ward off the chill in the air.
“Maybe we can do it again sometime?” he suggested when they reached her car.
“Maybe.” He nodded at her response. Both silently acknowledging that there would be no future interaction between them.
“Good night, Michael.”
“’Night, Lia.” He held the door for her and closed it after she had climbed into her car. Lia silently wished him well as she drove off and left him standing in the nearly empty parking lot.
I’m sorry I fucked up your evening, sunshine. The message came about half an hour after Lia got home from her date. She stared at the screen and all she felt was a weird relief that he hadn’t yet deleted her number from his phone.