Chapter Seven
“Let me get this right.” Missy stopped for a dramatic pause. “This guy’s a jerk to you and rude as can be, but now you’re going on a date with him?”
“It’s not exactly like that.” Paige cringed. Maybe she shouldn’t have complained so much about Wes before she’d known the full story. In doing so, she’d unfairly tainted his image to her sister. “He apologized and made things right. We went to dinner two weeks ago because he felt bad, and he was a perfect gentleman that night.”
Missy arched a brow. “What other secrets have you been keeping?”
“None. Promise.” She saw Missy’s doubt and sought to eradicate it. “I didn’t say anything because I know how you all would act. You’d read into it and think it was more than it was.”
“Obviously it was since you’re going on a date with him tonight.” Missy smirked.
“How was I to know I’d enjoy his company?” Paige shrugged. “It took me by surprise, but we’ve been talking since, and last night, he asked me to go out again. Besides, his niece will be with him, so it’s not like it’s a full date or anything.”
“Sure.” Her sister drew out the word. “I guess he can’t be too bad of a guy if he willingly took in his niece.”
“Don’t forget Mrs. Bryant had nothing but good things to say about him, and she can spot a bad egg from a mile away.” She had an innate desire to defend Wes after she’d previously spoken so poorly of him.
“Good point.” Crossing her hands on the table, Missy stared at her. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“It’s too early to tell.” She squirmed in her seat. “But the potential is there.”
A sparkle shimmered in Missy’s gaze. “You haven’t willingly gone on a date in two years since your twenty-sixth birthday.”
“That’s not true.” She ticked off names on her fingers. “There was Tom, then Andre, and Tyler.”
“And those were all blind dates Mom, and Aunt Linda, set you up with.”
“You win.” She tossed her hands in the air, signaling surrender. “But you hit an age when you decide there’s no point dating when you know there’s no connection. I’m too old to waste time on fruitless endeavors.”
“How do you know there’s no connection if you’ve never spent time with them?
Paige locked eyes with Missy, feeling every bit of their eight-year age difference. “As you get older, you learn. You’re more in tune with what you want out of a relationship, like a man who doesn’t live in his mom’s basement or doesn’t go out to bars every night. Certain characteristics are an automatic no, which greatly filters out the options.”
“Sounds like you’re too picky.” Missy sat upright, pressed her back to the wood dining room chair.
“There’s a difference between preferences and pickiness.” She winked. “For example, Wes has brown hair, and though I’ve always preferred men with lighter hair, I’m still going out with him. So there.”
Missy broke into laughter. “Like you’d ever be shallow enough to decline a date because you didn’t like his hair color.”
“Hey, I’ve seen other people do it.” She pushed away from the table and stood. “Come on, your lunch break’s almost over, and you still haven’t helped me find something to wear.”
“I have the perfect outfit in mind.” Missy left her seat and beckoned for Paige to follow her upstairs.
Her sister lived in the main house with their parents. Paige climbed the steps and turned left at the top of the stairwell. Went to the room they’d shared as children until Paige had moved out six years ago.
Missy opened the closet doors and withdrew a tunic-length maroon shirt with peasant sleeves. “Wear this and a pair of leggings.”
“I don’t have any leggings.”
“How are you my sister?” Missy strode to the side wall and rummaged in a drawer. She pulled out two pairs of leggings—one with geometric shapes and a pair of solid black ones. “Which ones do you like better?”
“My jeans?” She grinned at her sister whose fashion sense was much stronger than her own.
“Set the denim aside for one night, sister dear. I promise you’ll love these. They’re super comfortable.”
“The solid black ones then.”
Missy replaced the colorful pair in the drawer. “I knew you’d choose those.”
