I can’t help but smile. I change out of my clothes, opting for sweatpants and a tank top. Since my stomach is feeling better momentarily, I sit at my vanity and grab my brush. When I look in the mirror, a light gasp of horror escapes my lips.
I’ve been sporting that stupid red mustache from my waxing this entire time.
No wonder he kept looking at my lips.
Knightley
Rule #8: Sometimes what you think a client wants is not what they actually need. Nobody is perfect, after all.
Emma Jane Williams is a myriad of things.
She is selfish.
Calculating.
In her own head.
Admittedly brilliant.
Charming.
And most surprisingly…
Emma Jane is right about this woman.
Mallory Granger is, in fact, a lovely date.
The light-complected, brown-eyed brunette is currently scooping an expertly twirled forkful of linguini into her mouth, sighing with delight. “I’m so glad you chose this place.”
Yeah, there’s the issue. She thinks I chose the place, time, and day. That was all Emma Jane. Mallory knows this date is a “betatrial” of Emma Jane’s matchmaking services, but she thinks the effort was mine.
And do I feel a smidge guilty over that?
Yes.
But also… I’m starting to think maybe this whole blind date wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Do I have something on my face?” Mallory makes a motion to wipe the corners of her lips.
“No.” I laugh.
She grins a bright white smile. “Good. But you do…”
Mallory leans across the narrow table, her fingers outstretched toward my face. Rapid thoughts race across my mind, the primary one being that I haven’t so much as touched another woman romantically, much less been touched by one with uncertain romantic intentions.
Confusion flashes across her face when I lean back, followed by a gentle smile. She points to a spot on the corner of her mouth, and I take a napkin to mine. She gives me a thumbs up then starts to twirl more pasta. “Not a fan of physical contact?”
I shake my head. I love it, in fact. “I don’t know if Emma Jane told you or not, but I’m widowed, and I haven’t dated in eight years.” I laugh hesitantly. “I’m out of practice.”
She nods with understanding and apologizes for my loss. “She didn’t tell me, but that makes sense.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Mallory motions around the table and then between us. “You know, your awkwardness. You’re the mayor of this town, and I’ve seen you stand in front of crowds and give speeches time after time.Charisma comes naturally for you, but tonight it’s like you have a mental checklist you’re keeping track of. Kind of like—“
“Like I’m making sure I do all of the ‘supposed tos’ of dating,” I finish for her with a relieved sigh. Last night, Emma Jane drilled me on proper date mannerisms. I halfway listened because at the time, I thought this date was only a show to get Emma Jane off my back, but from the moment I met Mallory outside, I instantly felt like I wanted to try.
She is attractive, yes, but something about her puts me at ease and feels more friendly. She’s confident, collected, poised, and smart. Her quiet but witty demeanor reminds me of my ex-wife but in a different body.
