Blind Date (Dating Series Book 7) Page 2

  “You want me to drive a company truck home?” I do that every so often, but it’s not something Charlie likes to make a habit of.

  “Yeah, get out of here.” He waves a hand. “You’ve been on the clock since six.”

  It’s past three now, and I never did take a lunch. In fact, I’m starving, and my growling stomach just proved it. “If you say so. I don’t mind sticking around if you need me.”

  “It’s all good. We’ve got it from here,” Charlie says.

  I gather up my belongings, including the lunch I packed and never ate, and make my way to the truck Charlie said he wants me to drive. There’s a single tree lying in the back of it, a giant, extra full one that’s actually pretty damn beautiful, and I admire it for a bit before I hop in the truck and start the engine.

  Traffic’s shit as I make my way to downtown Carmel. I blame the upcoming holiday. Everyone’s out and about. Tourists are here in droves, as usual. I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, according to my mother. She came here when she was young, right around my age, wanting to make a name for herself. Those were her words, and I’m not sure what she meant by that. Did she have plans on meeting and marrying a rich man so she could live in a fancy mansion on 17 Mile Drive, in a giant house right on the ocean?

  That’s not what happened. She met an average dude and they got married, had kids and live a good life in Marina. They’re still together and as happy as they can be. I used to live with them too, up until about a year ago, when I got an apartment with a few buddies in Monterey. Most of my money goes to rent, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather live.

  Not right now, at least.

  When I finally turn onto Ocean Drive, traffic is backed up for miles. No wonder I don’t come around here too often. It’s overrun with tourists, there are a lot of overpriced shops, and it’s just not my scene. Though I do like the Carmel beach down at the bottom of the road. When I was in high school, my friends and I used to like coming over here and lighting bonfires at night. Drink beers we stole from our parents’ liquor stash and make moves on the cute girls who hung out with us.

  That feels like a lifetime ago. Before I had responsibilities and rent and car insurance to pay for.

  Sometimes, being an adult sucks balls.

  When I’m finally able to turn onto the side street where Charlie told me to deliver the tree, I realize I’m thirty minutes late. I was supposed to be here at four.

  Damn it. My next impression with this woman is getting blown all over the place.

  I park where Charlie directed and climb out of the truck to go knock on the back door of the jewelry shop. No one answers. I knock again.

  Again, no answer.

  Craning my head one way, then the other, I decide to walk around the building and enter through the front door like a paying customer. Hope to hell a cop doesn’t ticket the truck while I do this. Parking is tight downtown, and they monitor the meters and parking spots rigorously. An expensive ticket would be yet another expense I definitely don’t need, though Charlie would probably take care of it for me.

  The store is located down a narrow pebbled walkway between two buildings, white lights strung crisscrossed above my head, potted plants everywhere, along with comfortable looking wooden benches. I find Lee Fine Jewelers tucked away in the far left corner of the shopping court, and I push open the glass door, striding inside.

  There’s a hushed quality to the store. Gentle piano music tinkles in the background, and there are customers inside, but they’re all talking in quiet tones, like we’re in a library. And they’re all dressed impeccably. The women have fancy handbags hanging from their shoulders or wrists, and the men all reek of money.

  While I’m standing in the middle of this place in dusty jeans and a faded green sweatshirt with a hole in the front pocket. Glancing down at myself, I see there’s a bright spot of yellow mustard on my sweatshirt too. Must’ve been from the sandwich I inhaled on my way over here.

  Great. I’m a real class act.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turn to find the very woman who ran into me earlier at the farm striding toward me, a concerned expression on her face. The closer she gets, the more fascinated I become. Her skin is smooth. Flawless. Reminds me of a painting. And her eyes are so dark, they appear almost black.

  And I see those eyes shift. Widen a little bit. She recognizes me.

  Hope she’s not disappointed in my sudden appearance.

  “Hey.” I tip my head toward her with a polite smile. “Nice to see you again. I’m here to deliver your tree.”

  She scowls. It’s still a good look for her. “You’re a half hour late.”

  “Sorry about that,” I say easily. “Traffic.”

  “You apologize a lot.”

  I frown. “Excuse me?”

  “I believe that’s the fourth time you’ve told me you’re sorry since you ran into me.” She crosses her arms.

  I swipe my baseball cap off, quickly running a hand over my hair. Probably shouldn’t tell her that she’s the one who ran into me. “If it helps, I meant every single one of them.”

  She relaxes a little at that. “Where are you parked? Out back?”

  I nod, slipping my hat back on my head. Backwards this time.

  “You left your truck unattended?” Her gaze lifts from mine, and it’s almost like she’s concentrating on my hat. Which is a little weird.

  I nod again.

  A sigh leaves her. “Well, come on then. Better cut through the store with me before the parking attendant marks your tire and you get towed.”

  I shift into motion, keeping up with her as she walks briskly through the store. An older man studies me with curiosity as I pass by, as does a very attractive older woman with silver hair and a face much like the one who’s leading me to the back of the store. I’d guess she’s her mom.

  By the time we’re at the back door, I have to come to a skidding stop or else I’m likely to run into this woman yet again. Amelia. I like her name. It’s pretty. Elegant.

  Like her.

  She pushes the door, holding it open for me, and I walk through it, relieved to see the company truck still sitting there, the tree safely nestled in the back. “I can set this up wherever you want it,” I tell her.

  “You can?” She sounds hopeful. Like she doesn’t want to deal with it, and I can’t blame her. Putting up a Christmas tree can be a hassle. When you do it all the time like me, it’s no big deal.

  “Yeah, I don’t mind. It’s part of my job.” I haul the tree out of the truck and peek my head around it so I can meet her gaze. “Where do you want it?”

  She presses her lips into a straight line, her brows knitting together, and I can tell she’s thinking. Damn, she’s cute. Wait, that’s not the right word for her. Beautiful. Classy.

  That’s more like it.

  Untouchable.

  I need to remember that. She’d see nothing in a chump like me. I’d take a guess she’s older than I am. Around Candice’s age. Maybe even a little older. Mid-twenties for sure.

  And I’m a so-called adult who only recently became old enough to drink legally. Who works full-time for a Christmas tree farm with no aspirations, while her upscale family owns a jewelry store and are probably rich as hell. I can’t compete.

  I don’t even know why I bother thinking like this.

  “There are still customers in the store,” she finally says, tapping her index finger against her cherry-red lips. “Can you be…inconspicuous?”

  “Of course,” I say, vaguely offended. “I can manage to stay out of everyone’s way.”

  “Okay then.” She nods once, as if confirming my response and she approves. “Follow me.”

  I do as she says as best to my abilities, considering I’m carrying a giant tree all by myself. I stumble a few times. And I’m sure I’m scattering a path of pine needles in my wake. When we actually enter the storefront, I hear someone gasp.

  It’s the elegant woman who’s
a carbon copy of Amelia, her fingers covering her mouth. I’m sure I just horrified her with the mess the tree made.

  “Amelia, that tree is just gorgeous!” the woman exclaims, running right up to me. She reaches out and gently touches the branches, a wonderous expression on her face as her gaze shifts to mine. “This is the first time we’ve had a real Christmas tree in the shop since…ever!”

  Well. That wasn’t the reaction I expected.

  “I hope you like it, ma’am,” I say in my best polite voice. “The Sullivan farm grows the best trees in the area, if you ask me.”

  “Oh, are you one of the Sullivans?” the woman asks.

  I shake my head. “He’s my boss.”

  The woman contemplates me, her gaze assessing. Nerves blast through me, and I wonder why.

  Oh, probably because I feel like I’m being sized up. Analyzed.

  “Mother, leave him alone.” Amelia magically appears, offering me an apologetic smile. “Can you set it up in front of the window over there?” she asks, pointing at the giant front window.

  “Sure thing,” I tell her.

  Within a few minutes, I’ve got the tree set up dead center in front of that window. When I turn to tell Amelia I’m leaving, she’s nowhere to be found. It’s her mother who greets me with a giant smile and a thankful attitude.

  “I appreciate you setting it up so quickly! It’s a beautiful tree. I can’t wait to decorate it,” she gushes. “Please thank your boss from us. We’ll tell everyone where we got it.”

  “I’ll make sure and mention it to him that you said that, ma’am,” I tell her, gesturing toward the back of the store. “Mind if I leave through that door?”

  “Of course! I’ll escort you,” she says with a friendly smile.

  The woman keeps up her chatter the entire way, and I nod and respond in all the right places, but I’m distracted. Looking around for the flawless woman one more time before I leave the store.

  But she’s gone.

  Three

  Amelia

  “So…we’ve been talking,” Candice starts, her focus zeroed in on me.

  We’re at Milligan’s for happy hour. The bar isn’t far from the jewelry store, making it an easy walk. A few of my friends decided to get together, including Eleanor, who recently moved to Las Vegas to live with her hunky pro football playing boyfriend. She’s in town for the holiday and Candice’s upcoming nuptials.

  She’s the sunshine to my dark cloud right now, so I’m glad she’s here. And when she’s paired up with Candice? It’s like there are two bright suns beaming down upon us, chasing away all the darkness. It’s also like I have no choice but to act cheerful.

  “What have you been talking about?” I ask warily as my gaze scans the ladies sitting at this table.

  They’re all here. It’s a big group of us and we’re sitting in a rounded booth, two pitchers of beer on the table in the center. None of us are what I would consider beer enthusiasts, but when the time calls for it, we’ll drink a few.

  I suppose tonight the time calls for it.

  “You need to pick yourself back up and start dating again,” Stella says without hesitation. She’s our determined friend. The tell-it-like-it-is friend. “Just because you broke up with—”

  “Don’t say his name!” Candice interrupts, remembering my request months ago, after we first split up.

  Stella sends me and Candice an annoyed glare before she continues. “Let’s try that again.” She clears her throat. “It’s been months since you ended your relationship with—him. And now, you need to get back up on that horse.”

  “And ride that pony all night long,” Eleanor adds with a giggle, followed by a quiet burp she covers up with her fingers.

  We all laugh. Clearly, someone is already a little buzzed.

  “And luckily enough, I found you someone,” Candice announces with a giant grin, as if she’s about to offer me an early Christmas gift. “I think he’s perfect for you.”

  The groan that escapes me can’t be helped. “Please don’t set me up with some stuffy banker you met at a fundraiser,” I say.

  Our friend is the fundraising committee queen. She loves to donate her time and family money to various fundraisers, and even sits on a few boards.

  Candice appears offended. “I would never do that.”

  “I love my financial planner,” Eleanor chirps. “He’s so great! Helps that he’s Kelsey’s boyfriend so I always have the inside track.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” we all mutter, sending Kelsey knowing looks. Theo is more than just Kelsey’s boyfriend—and he’s definitely no stuffy banker. That guy is pure hotness in an expensive suit. He’s madly in love with Kelsey, plus they’re going to have a baby, and we’re all so thrilled for her, we can barely stand it.

  “We talk stocks and bonds every night before we go to bed,” Kelsey says with a straight face, just before she bursts into laughter, making the rest of us laugh too.

  “Uh huh. Whatever you say, Kelsey,” Stella drawls, her gaze shooting to mine. “But hey, back to the original topic. Candice did find you someone, Amelia. And we think he should be your date for her wedding.”

  Wait a minute…what? “You’re going to set me up on a blind date that takes place at a wedding. Gee, that sounds fun,” I deadpan, reaching for my mug of beer. I take a big swig, wincing as it goes down, then take another.

  I think I need the liquor for strength to get through this conversation.

  “It’s the perfect place for a set up,” Caroline says, the wise, married one of our friend group. “Come on. You have the reception to distract you both. There’s free booze, food and cake.”

  Hmm. I do have a sweet tooth.

  “Plus, there’s dancing. It’s a giant party!” Caroline smiles. “If you two can’t make conversation, pull him onto the dance floor. See if you have chemistry! And if that doesn’t work?”

  “Bail out like Cinderella, just don’t leave a shoe behind so he can find you,” Sarah adds.

  Her comment makes the entire table erupt with laughter. Including me. I love all of my friends. And all of my friends are involved in serious relationships. Like every single one of them. Caroline is married. Sarah is engaged. Candice is about to get married as well. Stella and Eleanor are madly in love, and Kelsey is not only in love, but about to become a mama.

  Back in the day, they were the single ones while I was in a relationship. I was so smug in that relationship too, while they all lamented over the dating scene and how they would never find a good man. Not that it’s all they wanted in life, but as women, we’re allowed to want it all. Great career and an amazing relationship.

  Turns out I had neither. My career isn’t the greatest, and I was involved with a complete douche.

  Oh, how the tables have turned.

  I love my friends. I really do. But their wanting to meddle in my nonexistent love life is a little off-putting, and I don’t know how to feel about it.

  “I don’t want to be paired up with someone I don’t know,” I say instantly.

  “You need to give him a chance! The guy I found for you is sweet. Very kind. Thoughtful. Good sense of humor,” Candice says, ticking off his traits like a list. “Super hard worker too.”

  “You not mentioning his looks worries me,” I say.

  Candice’s eyes go wide. “He’s cute!”

  “Uh huh. He’s probably more like a hideous troll,” I say, immediately hating myself when the words leave me. Since when should I care about looks? My ex is very attractive yet he’s a complete asshole.

  That old saying is true. Looks can be deceiving.

  “Cute makes him sound like a fluffy harmless bunny when he’s anything but. This guy is all man,” Candice stresses. “And really nice. The complete opposite of you know who.”

  I appreciate her not saying his name. And knowing that my ex isn’t what anyone would call nice. “You know who was way too attractive for his own good.”

  “This is true,” Candice says with a
nod. “But this guy is actually really handsome too, but I don’t know how serious of a relationship you could have with him. That’s why I think he’s perfect for you.”

  She says that last sentence so brightly, as if she’s trying to sell him. Which worries me because I can’t help but think there’s something wrong with the dude.

  “She won’t come right out and say it, so I will for her,” Stella says, nudging Candice with her elbow before she leans across the table, her gaze only for me. “He’s the perfect rebound man. He’ll fuck your ex right out of your system, once and for all.”

  My mouth drops open. “Stella. I’m not looking for someone to—fuck.”

  Now they’re all wearing shocked expressions, just like me.

  “There’s a word I never thought I’d hear you say,” Caroline breathes, her eyes wide as she stares at me.

  “What’s the problem with me dropping a f-bomb here and there?” I shrug. Drink more beer. Drain the entire mug, though I don’t want a refill. One glass is plenty.

  “You’re too refined for f-bombs,” Kelsey says. Which is hilarious because she has a gorgeous movie star face and I bet our friends consider her more on the refined side as well. I know I do. When I first met her, I thought she had a mysterious, aloof air.

  Or maybe they don’t think she’s refined at all. I’m not sure. “What makes me refined?” I ask her.

  “Your perfect posture. The way you walk. How you speak. The way you dress,” Kelsey explains, and everyone nods their agreement. “You have a very elegant way about you, Amelia.”

  It’s my mother’s fault. Probably both my parents’ fault. They’ve always carried themselves a certain way. When I was younger, Mother was constantly correcting my posture, my grammar, my makeup, my choice of clothing. I never gave it much thought. She’s always treated me that way. Not that she’s a tyrant, she’s just always wanted me to look my best.

  She still wants that for me. Her disappointment over the breakup of my relationship is still palpable. There’s no way I could tell her the truth. That my ex was such a jerk, I couldn’t take him anymore. I’d even call his treatment of me sometimes borderline…abusive.