Chapter One
Life should be spelled R-U-S-H,” Holly McLean fumed to herself as she unlocked the door to the small two-bedroom house on the south side of Houston. “Rush to finish up the last-minute paperwork, rush to get down here during afternoon traffic, rush to get dressed and go to a stupid speed-dating event that I don’t even want to do.”
Guilt came from nowhere and wrapped itself around her. If her best friend, Darlene, wanted to spend some time in her grandparents’ home before she sold it, then she should be able to do so.
“Okay! Okay!” Holly said with a sigh. “I won’t gripe about staying here anymore or having to drive that beat-up, old truck in the driveway, either.”
She barely had time to change from her navy-blue power suit into a cute little sundress, put on fresh lipstick, and run a brush through her dark-brown hair before she started up the truck and headed back into town to the speed-dating event where Darlene was going to meet her. She passed the tall McLean Corporation building where she worked with her parents every weekday. From morning until bedtime, she was on the go, either out in the field scouting out new territory for drilling oil wells or sitting behind a desk writing up contracts. Life was a constant rush, and she loved it—most of the time anyway.
She was pulling up in front of the hotel when her phone rang and Darlene’s picture came up on the screen. “Are you almost here?” Holly asked.
“No, and please don’t shoot me—not even virtually. I was packed and ready when I started throwing up. The doctor says it’s the flu, so I won’t be there.”
“No!” Holly squealed. “If that’s the case, I’m going back to your house, getting my stuff, and coming back to my apartment.”
“You will not,” Darlene declared. “You are going to stay at my house, get some rest, read books, and have a great week. I insist, and I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t even think about not going to the speed-dating thing. You are past thirty. It’s time you had a lasting relationship.”
“You expect me to get one at one of these things?”
“No, but I hope you will at least meet some eligible men,” Darlene argued. “Promise me you won’t blow this off. I’m sick and you owe me.”
The cars in front of her moved up, so she took her foot off the brake, moved forward a little, and shook her head. “I promise, and now we are even.”
“Okay. I won’t even mention Tony Dearly again if you will go on and have fun.”
“I’ll go, but the fun part might not happen,” Holly agreed. “The valet guy is here. I’ll call you when I get back to the house.”
“And you’ll stay there all week?”
“I promise,” Holly said. “Bye, and get well. Maybe by the end of the week, you can fly on down here, and we can at least spend a few days together.”
“Bye, and hopefully so,” Darlene said.
Holly was registered as Lula Ann because Darlene aka Sally June, picked fake names so no one would know that they were both rich beyond words. That way, according to her, if they metsomeone special, the fellow would like them for themselves, not their bank accounts.
She had never been or even thought about going to a speed-dating event until Darlene suggested it, insisting it would be fun. “Come spend your vacation week with me in my grandparents’ old house before I sell it. We’ll float the river, eat junk food and lots of ice cream, and see what all this hoopla about speed dating is all about.”
“We can do all that and stay in my apartment,” Holly had argued. It didn’t work.
The newly minted Lula Ann was ready to strangle her best friend when the first man came over to her table. “I’m Wilbur Matthews. I’m a plumber, and I’m looking for a permanent relationship.” He stuck his pudgy, sweaty hand across the table. “What kind of man do you want in your life?” he asked as he sat down.
Holly shook hands with him, discreetly wiped the moisture from her hand on a tissue from her purse, and swore that she heard the poor chair groan when he sat down.
“I’m Hol …” she stammered. Getting used to a fake name was a tough job. “I am Lula Ann Smith, and I want a kind man who accepts me for who I am.”
“Darlin’.” The guy leaned forward and smiled. “I’ll let you be whoever or whatever you want if you’ll check yes on your phone. I would love to wine and dine you and make you feel like a queen.”
Five minutes didn’t seem long in theory, but the seconds ticked by so slowly that it felt like a whole hour. Wilbur winked at her when the bell rang and went on to another table. For a short moment, the men in the room milled around like bulls at a stockyard, checking out the women like cattle at an auction, before they headed to a particular table.
Not that Holly had ever been to a sale barn, but she had seen pictures, and her imagination was very good. She checkednoon the phone app for Wilbur the plumber, who would make her feel like a queen.
She and Darlene had had very little girls’ time since they graduated from college a decade ago. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Go to Gordy’s Speakeasy, giggle and laugh about it later while they ate a whole container of butter pecan ice cream or a split a bottle of wine. And then float the river the next day. Or maybe they would lay on the beach and talk about their lives.
When the fifth man, a tall, lanky cowboy in boots and a hat, sat down in front of her, she thought she might give him a yes before he even told her his name. He was good looking, and a date might be nice to break up the monotony of a whole week without Darlene. Besides, she had only brought half a dozen books with her, and she could go through those in three days.
“Hello, I’m Hank Thomas, and you have lovely blue eyes,” he said.
“Thank you for that,” Holly said with a smile. “I am …” She paused for a split second. “Lula Ann Smith. I like to read, spend time on the beach, or sit on the porch and watch sunsets. What about you?”
