More Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories (The Flirts! Short Stories Collections) (11 page)

She got home and tried on the new frilly bra she’d bought and modeled it in front of the mirror. “Cute,” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. “No, it’s sexy.” Feeling emboldened, she grabbed her phone and snapped a few pictures of her new purchase. She looked at them on the screen. Damn, her chest looked small. She tried a few different angles, and finally was satisfied with a picture of her leaning forward slightly, with the camera tilted just so.
Another first
, she thought. She’d never taken a racy picture of herself for a guy. She’d never even sexted. “That’s going to change tonight and it’s going in the book.”

She composed an email to Will with the picture of her in her bra, and a flirty message: “I’ve got my own package for you to unwrap.” She saved it in her draft file to send later, once she was certain Witty Will didn’t have a rap sheet or halitosis.

After downing a glass of wine to get over her audacity, she slipped into a tight black dress, and flat ironed her hair, then went through her new makeup routine. She was looking good and feeling nervous and called a cab to drive her to the bar. She didn’t think she could handle the walk. After a very aggressive waxing session, she already had her first tip for the book: don’t fix your bikini line the day of the date. She mentally composed that chapter in her head on the ride over, then tried not to hobble into the bar as her sensitive skin protested. She’d ditched the undies because of the pain; the slightest touch hurt. A one-night stand was feeling unlikely if not impossible tonight.

She scanned the bar for Witty Will and his gift, and then froze. Her brother was sitting at a table with a beer, smirking at the mural of the naked mermaid on the wall across from him. Holy hell, no way was she going to meet a blind date—from an online matchmaking site—in front of her brother. She’d never hear the end of it. Was it too late to change locations? She’d suggest another bar close by. She and Will hadn’t exchanged phone numbers yet, so she fumbled for her phone to send him an email. Her brother looked up. “Diana?”

She froze, then waved. “Hi, Matt.”

Smiling, he looked her up and down. “Are you going to a very early Halloween party?”

“Shut up. I’m just trying a different look.”

“Trampy librarian? Slutty transcriptionist?”

If she were closer to him she’d have whacked him with her purse. “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here for a drink,” she said, scanning her email. “But he just suggested we meet up somewhere else,” she lied, “so I have to be going.” She found her last email to Witty Will’s address and tapped out a message, telling him where to meet her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be annoyed with the last minute change.

“Tell me about this guy,” Matt said, folding his arms and grinning.

She shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve got to be going.” She finished her email and hit send. Then her stomach sank, realizing what she’d done. She’d sent the bra picture. And he’d be getting it any minute—a guy she didn’t even know! Her heart pounded.
Maybe that will insure things do go well. No doubt he’d show up at the correct bar now
, she thought.

“Can you hang on a minute and save my table while I hit the john?” Matt asked.

Her palms were sweaty and she was thinking about calling the whole thing off. “Sure. But hurry up.”

He stood up and grabbed a small, flat box from his lap. It had a red bow on top. Her stomach fell as she dropped onto the stool. “What is that? Is that—a package?”

He looked down and smirked. “That’s not my package. That’s tucked away for a special lady tonight. This is a gift for my blind date.” He rocked back on his heels.

Diana struggled for words. “A woman from an online dating website.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah, I decided to try it out after you mentioned it the other night. But, how did you know?”

She dropped onto a chair and shook her head. Then she closed her eyes. She felt a pounding headache on its way and the music in the bar wasn’t helping. “I know you went to an online dating site, because I’m Dina. Your date.” She looked up at him.

He stared at her without blinking. “Shut the hell up. No, I mean it.” He pointed at her. “You take that back.”

Laughing nervously, she reached into her purse and grabbed her hand sanitizer. “Witty Will?” She doused her hands with the clear gel and started rubbing furiously.

“Yeah. Will? William? My middle name? You don’t think I’d put my real name out there. God only knows who goes on those sites.” His eyes bulged.

She rubbed the sanitizer on her arms. “You created a different email account for this? And the avatar. Oh, my god. Woody the woodpecker. Woody. Ewww!” Diana held her hand over her stomach. “This cannot be happening. I got a bikini wax for tonight.”

“I trimmed my—”

Diana shrieked. “Go away!” She squirted sanitizer at him, and then looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I changed the sheets on my bed for this.”

Matt shoved his fingers in his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m dreaming. This is just a horrible dream and I will wake up next to a hot blonde when I open my eyes.” He opened his eyes. “Shit! You’re still there. I was hoping to see a hottie with big tits.”

That’s one thing I don’t have
, she thought,
unless photographed from a certain angle
. Diana clapped a hand over her forehead. “Do not open the email Dina just sent! It’s a picture of—”

“Stop! Don’t say another word.” Matt started turning in circles. “How much does therapy cost an hour? Can you recommend anyone?”

Her mouth opened and closed.

“You have just ruined any chances of me having sex ever again.”

Diana gave him a doubting look.

“At least for the next two days.” He closed his eyes and shivered.

“Really? Because this is my dream come true!”

“I gotta go,” he said, leaving her alone at the table with his package.

Ugh. His gift
. She looked at it and started hiccupping.

Matt stalked back and snatched the box. “I’ll eat these myself.”

She stood up and reached for the box. “Wait! I could really use some chocolate right about now.”

He frowned. “They’re edible panties.”

She sat back down. “I could use those, too. I’m not wearing any.”

Matt dropped the box and screamed like he was ten years old again and went running out of the bar.

She dropped her head in her hands and a man approached her. “Usually, I buy women booze to get them out of their underwear, but looks like we’re a few steps ahead.”

She slid off the chair. “I’m going to be sick.”

The guy shrugged. “Come back when you’re done!”

She grabbed the gift and ran out the door.

A text beeped on her phone. From her mother. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but be sure to tell me how your blind date goes.”

***

After scanning the crowd and chatting up one woman dull as drywall, Toby went outside and strolled down the sidewalk. A woman was hustling past him, and she looked familiar. “Hey, slow down. You’re Dina, right?”

“Yes,” she slowed her pace, wincing.

“I met you the other night with my brother, Eric. From what I heard the next day, that didn’t go so well. How about the two of us get a drink?” He arched one eyebrow ever so slightly.

She placed her hand over her mouth and shook her head. “I can’t.” Then she took a few more steps and puked.

His industrial-sized ego was taking a beating here. “Can I get you a ride home?”

“I’ll grab a cab. Please, just leave me alone.” And she hobbled off into the dark.

And with that, he called it a night.

***

It’s not that he was desperate for a date, but after a week of searching for someone different and finding no one, it was time to call in the big guns: his sister, Kyla. He called her and invited her to lunch.

“Are you sick?” Kyla asked, sounding panicked over the phone. “Tell me you’re not sick.”

“No!”

“Something’s wrong. What is it? Just tell me. You spent your entire inheritance on something stupid didn’t you? What was it—a private jet? Your own island?”

He chuckled. “Eric’s the more likely candidate for that. No, Kyla, I just want your opinion on something.”

“Oh, good. I’m excellent at giving opinions. I’ll see you at noon.”

Kyla was waiting for him when he got there, his drink already ordered. “Thanks,” he said.

She reached across the table and patted his cheek. “You’re growing a beard?”

He straightened his silverware. “No, no. Not exactly. I just haven’t shaved in a few days…” He sighed. “I’m not here to talk about facial hair.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe we should.”

His eyes met her and his shoulders slumped. “Kyla, I’m having trouble meeting women.”

She raised an eyebrow. “This is a joke, right?”

He held up a hand. “Different women. Different from the uptight girlfriends I’ve had. The ones more concerned about their careers than our future.”

“What about Lorna?”

“She’s just interested in money. Her money and making more of it. She doesn’t care about me and my money.”

Kyla tapped her finger on her nose. “I see. You want me to help you meet women interested in your money? I can think of a few women—make that a few dozen women who’d be interested in your money.”

“No. You know what I mean. Interested in me, not just in having me as an accessory.”

“You want me to be your matchmaker?”

“You got Jessie to go to prom with Nick.”

“I gave her five good babysitting leads.”

Toby popped up an eyebrow.

“What? I was fourteen. I didn’t have a lot of money.”

“Well, do you know anyone who might be right for me?”

She set her hand on his. “You do realize the last guy I tried setting up with other women ended up dating me.”

He nodded. “Good point. And I never would have picked a nerdy astrophysicist as your dream guy.”

“The heart wants what it wants.”

“How is Stone?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Awesome. Perfect. Amazing. He calls me his heavenly astrological body—H.A.B. Hab. Habby, because we’re so habby together.”

Toby stared at his empty plate. “Has he done some sort of weird alien implantation thing on you?”

“Funny. No, the only thing he’s implanting—“”

He cut her off. “Nice weather we’ve been having.”

“It’s hailed the last few days.”

“And it was more enjoyable than this conversation.”

“Do you still want me to try a few setups?” Kyla asked.

“No thanks, Habby.”

***

Diana glared at the calendar hanging over her desk. One more week until her book proposal was due and the bulk of her new dating insights could be scrawled on the back of her business card. Where could she meet more lousy men?

Aubrey. Her old client had suffered many bad breakups. Diana called her to help arrange a horrible setup.

“You want to date one of my exes?” Aubrey asked.

“The worst one.”

“Oh, that would be Dane.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s conceited, egotistical.”

“Excellent! I mean, horrible, but good for me.”

“He doesn’t like spontaneity, he likes things to be a certain way.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Yes!”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Perfect. Set me up.”

***

“So, you’re a relationship therapist?” Dane asked over dinner a few days later.

Diana took a long swig of her wine. “Aubrey wasn’t supposed to tell you that. But no, I’m not. Not anymore. I used to be.”

Dane raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you do now?”

Mentioning the book seemed like a bad idea. “Just trying to find my way.”

He set down his beer. “You’re not going to give me a survey or a questionnaire like Aubrey did, are you?”

Damn. She should have thought of that. “No.”

“Good.” Dane steepled his fingers. “Listen, Aubrey’s visit got me thinking about all the time I’ve wasted with the wrong women. So I actually came up with a checklist of my own—do not tell Aubrey.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her.

“What is this?” Diana asked.

Dane crossed his arms. “Think of it as a pre-nup for dating. It’s an agreement as to what I expect out of a relationship.”

Diana bit her tongue really hard, and unfolded the sheet. Her eyebrows shot up. “Changes in hair cut and color are to be discussed first?”

He nodded. “It applies to me as well.”

“You change your hair color often?”

“This agreement insures I won’t.”

Diana read on. “A ten-pound weight gain leads to immediate termination of the relationship.” She looked up at him. “Seems a little harsh.”

“Really? I think it’s rather kind, laying out what I expect from a relationship. Then there will be no surprises. Say you gained weight and I suddenly broke up with you; that might be disconcerting. But with this agreement, you’d know the breakup was coming.”

“Right.” She looked back down at the agreement. “I see you’ve covered everything. Sex three times a week?”

“At least. And there are conditions in there for me as well. Flowers once a week. Two compliments a day.”

“Good. Spontaneity is so overrated.” She continued reading and set down the paper. “I think it’s lovely that you’d accompany me on all shopping trips to help select my wardrobe, but do you really think most women are going to accept this?”

“I think plenty of women will. If they want to go out with me.”

Oh, going out with this man could write the book itself. But how bloody and battered would her tongue be from clamping down on it the entire time? “This is so…gosh. Wow. I’m just not sure what to say.” She pushed the paper back toward him.

“I know. It’s revolutionary.” He smiled. “Are you in? I’d be happy to start a relationship with you once we did the initial weigh-in and measurements to be sure everything’s up to snuff.”

“Perhaps you could date a racehorse,” she said, standing up. “I’m afraid I forgot about this thing I have to do. With a person. Who has a heart. A real one. I’ve got to go. Good luck with this. Please do call and let me know what your first girlfriend thinks.”