Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
The bartender comes over. “What can I get for you?” he says, and I want to say a bottle of wine with a straw, but instead, I smile.
“I’ll have soda water with lime, please.” I look down at my phone to see if I have a missed call. The screen saver of Julia and me greets me and nothing else. The bartender comes back and puts down a white napkin in front of me and then puts down the short glass of bubbly water with a wedge of lime in it. “Thank you,” I say, and he slides the paper bill to me. I grab the small clutch purse in my hand and take out my credit card. I look down the dark burgundy bar top seeing most of the chairs taken as people talk to each other. I look back over to the door and see a line of people, but no one is looking around for anyone.
My phone buzzes, and I pick it up so fast I’m surprised I don’t drop it. I turn it over and see that Julia texted me.
Julia: You look amazing.
I smile, opening the chat and seeing the picture I sent her right before I left home. It was me in the hallway of my condo wearing the black jeans that fit a touch tighter than I remember and the black silky tank top that went a touch lower in the front, showing off a bit more cleavage than what I usually wear.
Julia: How is it going?
I shake my head while I answer her and quickly look over at the hot guy who is not Zander.
Me: I just met the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. IN. MY. WHOLE. LIFE.
I press send and take another sip of water. The citrus from the lime hits my tongue right away, and then the bubbles explode on my tongue. It doesn’t take long for my phone to buzz, and I pick it back up to check, smiling when I see her name.
Julia: So, the blind date turned out to be hot. What are the chances? You should play the lottery!!!
I laugh. “Oh, the chances are slim to none,” I say to myself as I type out my response to her.
Me: He’s not my blind date. I thought he was and went over to introduce myself, and it turns out he’s not Zander.
Julia: SHUT UP!
Me: I thought I was going to die. I was so embarrassed, and then my whole body was shaking, and I was afraid that I was going to trip with these stupid heels that I decided would be a good idea to wear tonight.
I look down at the black shoes I bought for my cousin’s wedding last year and decided to dress it up tonight. The minute I put them on, I felt the pinch in my baby toe, but I figured why not.
Julia: What if he is and is lying to you???
I gasp and turn to look back at the table and see that he’s eating a burger as he scrolls on his phone. His eyes never look up.
Me: Very doubtful. He is definitely not dressed for a date. He is wearing a baseball hat, for heaven’s sake. Even if he was Zander, would he show up on a date looking like he didn’t care?
Julia: hmmm…
I look back over and take another look at him.
Me: He looks like he just got out of the gym. There is no way he would show up for a date in sneakers. Don’t you want to make a good impression?
Julia: He could be sizing you up. Maybe see you, say damn she’s hot, and then I don’t know, make an excuse and then meet you again when he’s all dressed up.
Me: How would any of that make sense since I saw his face? I would remember his face.
Julia: I don’t know. I’ve never done the whole blind date because people are crazy out there.
Me: Thanks for all of your uplifting comments.
I press send and take another sip of my drink.
Me: Seriously, how long do I give him to show up?
Julia: How late is Mr. Blind Date?
I look at the clock.
Me: Eighteen minutes.
Julia: One second, let me check and see if there are any accidents with casualties.
“Oh, good God,” I say and then look over to see the hot guy on his phone again.
“Excuse me.” I hear the hostess and turn my head, picking it up, wondering if I spot someone waiting at the door, but there is only a couple. The whole place is jam-packed. Not one table seems to be free. “I’m going to need to seat,” she says.
“Of course,” I say, the heat running up my neck as I try not to make eye contact with her. I grab my purse off my lap and push away from the bar, taking my phone in my hand. Walking back to the front door, I keep my head down, afraid to look up and see the stranger watching me do another walk of shame. I push the hair back from my face once I get to the front door and go to the corner.