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I have zero new matches on all five of my dating apps, and though I’m tempted to let it get to me, I don’t. This is nothing new. Hamilton is Hamilton, and unless I’m willing to pack up and move to a bigger city, I’ll have to make the best of it—and I do. Right before I head inside, I RSVP to a Hamilton Singles event in two weeks. I haven’t been to one in a month, and I’m optimistic that this one will be worth my time. See Mother?! Contrary to what you think, I don’t just sit at home wallowing in self-pity. I put myself out there.
Daisy opens her front door when I’m not even a quarter of the way up her front path. She must have been parked at the window, waiting for me.
“Hey stalker.”
She ignores me, rushes forward, and grabs my arm.
“I don’t want you to get excited, but there’s someone here I really think you should meet. Wait…” She scans the ground around my feet. “Where’s Mouse?”
“At home. He got really dirty after I took him to the park and I didn’t want him ruining your stuff.”
She groans. “That’s precisely what I want him to do. Your brother is so stubborn about hanging on to things. That rug in the family room is hideous, but he doesn’t seem to think we need a new one unless the current one is ruined.”
I laugh. “I’ll try my best to spill my wine tonight.”
“Thank you. Now, hurry, there’s a new guy here that I’ve never met before and I think he’s single!”
Though she seems excited, I’m not. Daisy only moved back to Hamilton two years ago, and she’s routinely confused by who’s an actual newcomer and who just decided to grow a beard.
“If it’s Kyle Parker again, I’ll punch you. He’s lived here his whole life Daisy—he just has a man bun now and I swear it confuses you every time.”
She rolls her eyes and keeps dragging me after her, which is no simple feat considering the footwear she’s decided on tonight. Her whole outfit is spot on and trendy: a simple red dress with nude pumps. Her blonde hair is loosely braided down her back, probably left over from work, and her makeup is just enough to make her already beautiful features stand out even more. I now regret changing into jeans, even if I did put on the pair that makes my ass look, in Daisy’s words, “killer”.
“Should I change into something of yours?” I ask as we pass through the foyer. “You’re a lot fancier than I am.”
She turns and gives me a onceover, breaking out in a slow smile. “No, you look hot. That shirt is just tight enough to show off your figure without being indecent, and I like when you wear your hair down like that. It drives guys insane.”
I shrug, remembering the zero new matches waiting for me on my dating apps. I guess I’ll have to take her word for it.
We pause in the kitchen for wine, and I can see most of their guests clustered out back on their wraparound porch. Surprisingly, it’s a nice evening in Texas—not too hot, and the mosquitos have yet to invade for the summer. Everyone is sipping wine or beer and sort of hovering around in clusters. As far as parties go, this is extremely tame.
“No beer pong? No kegs?” I ask as Daisy pours me a glass of chilled white wine, my favorite.
She levels me with a glare. “Your brother wanted a low-key housewarming party.”
“Yeah, about that—is it still considered a housewarming party if you guys have already lived here for six months?”
She shrugs as she finishes pouring herself a glass. “It’s taken us that long just to furnish the place, so yes, it counts.”
I nod and take in my surroundings. Their house is beautiful, one of the older Victorian-style houses that line the streets of downtown Hamilton. It was recently restored, but the original wood floors were left intact. Their dark stain juxtaposed with the white marble countertops and modern light fixtures make the home feel updated and fresh. In short, I’d cut off my right arm to own a house like this.
Honestly, I can’t believe it’s been six months since I sold it to them. I cringe thinking of how little of that commission check is left. I used a large chunk of it to pay off the last of my student loans, and I put some of it in savings. The rest might as well have floated away like sand for all the good it did me. A couple months of rent and I’m right back where I started: in desperate need of a new client, one who isn’t Mr. Boggs.
“Ready to head outside?” Daisy asks me, her tone a little gentler than usual. She can probably sense I’ve had a hard day at work. There’s no need to ramble on about Lori and the rest of her minions; Daisy has heard it all before, and she sympathizes as much as she can. She and Lucas own their own family practice and have the luxury of being their own bosses. I’ve daydreamed about quitting the agency and going to work for them, but working as an office coordinator in a small doctor’s office doesn’t really interest me. Besides, I like real estate, even if I’m not very good at it.
