Love at First Date

LOVE AT FIRST DATE

BY

SUSAN HATLER

Love At First Date

Copyright © 2012 by Susan Hatler

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. 

License Notes

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_______________________________________

Cover Design by Elaina Lee, For The Muse Designs

www.forthemusedesign.com

CHAPTER ONE

When it comes to men, I’m a practical girl. Well, woman. I just celebrated my thirtieth birthday last month. Anyway, stars and fireworks where guys are concerned? Total fantasy. I blame the movies for all that hype.

After two failed marriages, my mom learned with Hubby Number Three that lasting relationships are all about compatibility, which is why I recently signed up at
Detailed Dating
—a popular Sacramento online dating site. I’m going to save precious time (not to mention frustration and heartache) learning the 411 about a potential mate up front to see if we’ll make it for the long haul. Museums and musicals? Yes. Computer games and fantasy football? No, thanks.

After six weeks of email exchanges, I’ve narrowed it down to two prospects:
lookn4luv
and
jusUnME
. Both guys appear to have interests and goals compatible with mine, and our email exchanges have gone well, so I’m stoked about taking the next step in the
Detailed Dating
process by scheduling “face-to-face” coffee dates (separately, of course).

As I typed a customer complaint report on my computer at work, I was pondering which potential mate to date first when my best friend’s face popped over the cubicle partition between us.

“Ellen?” Rachel’s head tilted to the side and her brown hair fell against her cheek. “You got a sec?”

“Sure.” As she made her way over to me, I pushed my upcoming dates out of my mind, finished addressing Gilbert Watson’s claim that our software program had made his laptop go wonky (I used more professional terms, of course), then swiveled in my office chair to face her. “What’s up? You can’t complain about work yet. It’s only Monday afternoon.”

“Very funny.” She strode to my desk, picked up my
Detailed Dating
pen, which was emblazoned with hearts, and started clicking it open and closed obsessively.

I eyed her closely. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Her voice strained too emphatically for me to buy. “Everything’s great. I mean, Chester’s had a hard time adjusting to the move and all, but he’s doing better for sure.”

She had recently moved into her own apartment in lieu of the rental house she’d been sharing with roommates. But, hello? What difference should that make to her pooch? “Honestly, Rach. You worry too much about Chester’s mental stability. He’s a dog. As long as he has food and water, he’s fine. Stop worrying.”

“Pfft.” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “Who’s worried?”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. Something was definitely up. Rachel had adopted her miniature beagle a few months ago and treated him like a king. Although she’d wanted her own place for eons, she now felt selfish for uprooting him from the home he’d known and loved.

Spare me.

“Whatever’s going on, dish.” I gestured toward the overloaded in-box on my desk. “I’ve got a stack of customer complaints the VPs want me to get through before lunch.”

“Well, since you brought up Chester . . . ” She used a tone that suggested she’d suddenly thought of something. “Perhaps you’d like to come over tonight and bond with him. He’d love a little one-on-one auntie time since he feels so bad about Saturday.”

I glanced down at the gorgeous pair of heeled boots on my feet. I’d only worn them once before her mutt had gnawed on them like his own personal rawhide. “Honestly, Rachel, are you trying to hurt me? You know how expensive these were.”

“Ellen, you have to forgive him. I mean, how’s my sweet puppy supposed to know the difference between a pair of shoes and a chew toy?” She eyed the savage marks in my leather boots and grimaced. “I’ll buy you a new pair when we get paid Friday.”

“No, no . . .” Rach and I were both on a tight budget, which is why I’d turned down the sleek and sexy red stilettos I’d drooled over and instead bought the practical black boots I’d use more often. Even with Chester’s teeth marks. “I mean, they’re not completely ruined, just damaged. Train him to stay away from my footwear and we’ll call it good.”

“Working on it.” Her eyes darted left then right as if someone might be eavesdropping. “But, in the meantime . . . I need a favor.”

Rachel Price had been my best friend for over four years and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. “Sure.” I lowered my voice. “What is it?”

She bit her lip. “I need you to come over and baby-sit Chester tonight.”

I leaned forward, burst out laughing, and waited for her to join in. When she didn’t, my face froze mid-giggle. “You’re serious?”

“Ellen.” She put a hand on my arm. “It’s an emergency.”

“Hmm. How can I put this in a way you’ll understand?” I tapped an index finger against my temple. “Illness, bleeding, dying . . .
emergencies
. Puppy-sitting? Not so much.”

Rachel groaned. “I wouldn’t ask unless it was urgent.”

My brows rose. “I’ll bite. What’s the 911?”

“You know Gina in accounting?”

“Of course.” Gina interrupts me several times each week with a bookkeeping
emergency
. I use that term loosely. It’s all a ruse so she can come in my cubie to angst over when George will propose. Not like I’d hold my breath on that one. They’d been living together a decade now.

“Well, Gina wants to set me up with George’s friend. They have four tickets to see that new 80s band at The Oasis tonight.” She took a deep breath. “I’d really like to go.”

“You would?” I gasped. This news was huge. Rachel had spent the last six months mourning her two-year relationship with Jeremy — a guy who’d had the nerve to hook up with her hairdresser behind her back several weeks before dumping her. She’d been heartbroken and unwilling to trust guys since (can’t blame her there). If she wanted to get back in the game, that must mean she’s finally over the douche bag. Yay!

Unfortunately, I had my own plans this evening. Me, my laptop, and
lookn4luv
versus
jusUnME.
“Can’t Chester hang by himself at your apartment while you go on your double date? After all, he’s home alone right now.”

Her face scrunched up. “He’s still adjusting to the move and he’s expecting me to be home after work. He’ll be sad and lonely if I desert him during his emotional crisis. I can’t dismiss his feelings because a hot guy shows up.”

I sat up a little straighter. The plot thickened. “He’s hot, huh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She reached inside her handbag and pulled out a small photo. “Gina said it’s from a year ago, but still.”

I gazed appreciatively at the dazzling display of manhood in the beach photo. Golden hair slicked back from the surf, a smile that showed off his pearly whites, and drops of water that glistened on a tanned, muscular chest. “Wowzers.”

Her face lit up. “I know, right?”

“Hmm.” Even so, without a detailed profile, I’d be reluctant to go on a date even with this hottie. There’s no telling what kind of whacky habits the guy had or whether they shared anything in common. My mom’s second husband had been handsome, but after two years leading separate lives due to different interests, they’d called it quits.

“So?” She gave me a desperate look, then sighed. “Come on. You’re my best friend and the only one I trust to take care of my baby.”

I scoffed. “Correction, your dog.”

She tapped the cheerful red pen against her palm. “I didn’t want to bring this up ever, believe me, but remember when you made me watch that awful movie last year? Do you have any idea how long I was traumatized by that depressing boxer film? When that girl begged her trainer to end her life?”

“That was not my fault.” I pointed a finger at her. “My mom recommended it and said we’d love it.” Not.

“Nightmares, Ellen. For months.” Rachel’s eyes grew serious. “Come on. I won’t have a good time unless Chester’s having fun, too. And this is the first time I’ve actually wanted to go out with a guy since . . . you know.”

Yeah. I knew. Stupid, lame, Jeremy. I sighed. Rach needed to date and get over her love slump. No matter how much I’d been looking forward to it, scheduling dates with my online prospects could wait a day. I swiveled in my chair to face my computer, then glanced over my shoulder at her eager face. “You owe me.”

She squealed. “You’re the best! I’m gonna go tell Gina.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, then smiled. Finally, she was excited about a guy again. Rach deserved an evening of fun.

As I returned to my report about the exorbitant amount Mr. Watson wanted for his computer crash, I couldn’t help but remember that I was single, too. So, why had Gina asked Rach to go out with Mr. Muscles and not me?

****

Later that night, I parked in front of Rachel’s apartment in East Sacramento as my cell phone shrilled. I scanned the screen—
Mom
—then pressed the green button. “I can’t talk. Anything important going on?”

“Just calling to see who you picked for the first date, sweetheart.” Her voice held excitement. “The engineer or the entrepreneur?”

“Neither.” I shut the door of my sedan and hurried up the cement walkway toward apartment 8A. “I got stuck late at work and Rachel has a hot date, so I’m babysitting her miniature beagle.”

“Oh, is my darling Rachel finally over that Jeremy character? I had my suspicions about him ever since your cousin’s play opening. He refused to look me in the eye when he shook my hand. Add that to your list of things to watch out for, Ellen. If they act shifty, they are shifty.” She sighed. “If I’d known at your age half of what I do now . . . I never would’ve married Bob. Or, Frank, for that matter.”

As I knocked on the brown door to Rachel’s apartment, my brows furrowed. “Don’t forget my dad.”

“I never married him,” she said, quickly. “So, that doesn’t count.”

My stomach clenched even though he really shouldn’t count for much. I’d only met the man a handful of times myself. But, it’s like her opinion was fact with no regard for how I felt. Story of my life. “Can I talk to you later?”

“Well, there’s another thing I was calling about. Remember that art gallery opening Robert and I told you about last week? It’s this Friday night and they’re showcasing an up-and-coming artist. It’s supposed to be fabulous. Any interest? Maybe you can invite one of your dates?”

“That’s exactly how I want to meet a potential boyfriend for the first time.” My voice held a teasing tone. “With my nosy mom and her new husband.”

“It was worth a try.” She chuckled. “Bring Rachel, then. We’ll meet for dinner beforehand?”

Rachel’s front door opened and I pointed toward my ear to indicate I was on the phone. “Sounds good. I’ll call you tomorrow to find out where.”

I told my mom I loved her, hung up, then sighed as I turned my attention to Rach. “My mom drains me.”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “What else is new?”

“Very funny.” I leaned forward for a quick hug. “Want to go to an art showing with my mom and Robert Friday night? Some new artist.”

“Since you’re my savior, absolutely.” She gave me a squeeze, then pulled the door shut behind us. “Chester is super excited to spend time with you.”

I dropped my phone into my overflowing purse. “I’ll look forward to my Auntie of the Year trophy.”

“Definitely.” Her heels clicked across the tiled floor as she strutted into the kitchen wearing dressy black pants, an electric blue silk top, and a whimsical smile.

“You look fantastic,” I said, giving Chester a little pat as I walked past where he lay—in his doggy bed, chewing a rope toy (finally his vicious canines were sinking their teeth into something appropriate)—then followed her to the kitchen, wishing I were going on a date instead of dog sitting.

“Thanks.” She smiled, her brown eyes lighting up. “His name’s Dillon and we talked on the phone earlier. He has this really deep voice and sounds super nice.”

I slipped onto one of her bar stools and leaned against the countertop. “It’d be better to have more info on him though. That’s what I love about
Detailed Dating
. You learn what you’re getting into before you invest time and energy.”

“Only if the guys are honest in their profile. Do you know how many horror stories I’ve heard?”

“That’s why it’s only
part
of
Detailed Dating’s
process. It’s not like they recommend marrying someone off their profile alone.” I laughed.

“Still, online dating feels too clinical to me.” She fished in a drawer, then handed me an extendable leash that had a plastic handle with blue plastic bags attached. “I’m more into chemistry and a good vibe.”

My mouth twisted. “Says the girl who’s going out with some guy she’s never met because he looks good without a shirt on.”

“Touché.”

I took a deep breath, but my voice still cracked a little when I said, “Why do you think Gina set you up with Dillon and not me?”

She leaned on the counter across from me and stared into my eyes. “Does that bug you?”

I shrugged, feeling rejected. “Maybe a little . . .”

She grasped my hands. “Sweetie, you’ve been raving about
Detailed Dating
for practically a month. She probably figures that’s working for you whereas I’m a pathetic mess who needs help.”