Page 17 of Never Let Go

I needed to shut this down real quick. “No, thanks, Mom. I’d rather take my chances on a blind date. That time Trevor took me to dinner still features in my nightmares occasionally.”

She sighed. “He’s a nice boy, Shel. Maybe you should give him another chance.”

I snorted. “I’ll pass, but thank you. Trevor may be nice to other people, but he’s not nice to me. We just don’t get along.”

Mom’s gaze lingered on mine for another moment before she nodded. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m sure Marge would talk to him for you.”

“Thanks, but I’m not going to change my mind. I guess I’ll just go back to the drawing board.” As I said it, the front door opened and my dad called out from the foyer.

“I’m home, ladies. How’re you doing, Shel? I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. Best damn surprise of my life when I see your car in the drive when I’m not expecting it.”

I grinned and pushed away from the counter to give my dad a hug when he walked in. Still standing at six and a half feet tall, my father always made me feel like a little girl when he enveloped me in one of his bear hugs, and I melted into him, taking every last ounce of comfort he had to give.

He chuckled and squeezed me once more, then released me and went over to kiss my mom. “How’re you, honey? Good day?”

“It’s always a good day when our baby comes home,” she cooed.

I rolled my eyes even as my chest filled with warmth. “I come home all the time. Both of you are acting like I’m never here when, at this point, I might as well just move back in.”

Dad grinned at me as he loosened his tie. “Now there’s an idea we can discuss. You should move ba—”

“I was kidding, Dad.” I turned my back on him to grab crockery and cutlery so I could set the table while Mom finished up with dinner. “How was work?”

He shrugged, sliding his jacket off and hanging it over the back of a stool. He rolled up his sleeves and helped me carry everything to the dining-room table. “It was work. You know how it goes. I saw a post on social media today about Ashley’s wedding. You went dress shopping with her, I believe?”

I giggled. “I still think it’s weird that you get notifications every time I’m tagged on social media.”

Dad winked at me. “It’s a great way to keep tabs. Besides, I enjoy being able to keep up with old friends. It’s nice to be able to connect.”

Mom sighed as she walked in, oven mitts on her hands. She carried the pot of pasta and another of sauce to the table. “You two and your internet. I’m supposed to be the nosy parent, but I count on our daughter to tell me things instead of stalking her online.”

Dad arched a teasing eyebrow at her. “Oh, yeah? If that’s true, why did you ask me to help you set up your own accounts just a couple of months ago?”

I grinned. “Yeah, Mom. I got all the friend requests and I accepted them. I know you’ve been keeping tabs on me too.”

She smiled and pretended to zip her lips once she’d set the pots down. Then she sat on her chair next to Dad’s and glanced at him. “Shelby is considering signing up for an online, blind-dating service. I bet you’re not so positive about the internet now.”

Dad paled, but then he inhaled deeply through his nostrils. “Don’t do that, honey. There are too many creeps out there. Besides, you’re too young to date seriously.”

“I’m thirty-two, Dad. I’m not too young.”

While Mom dished up and Dad mulled it over, I was back to considering the pros and cons of downloading the app and signing up. Or maybe Foster will walk into my office for our next meeting and ask me to marry him.

I nearly snorted out loud at the thought. Fine. Sight Unseen it is.

I deftly changed the topic at dinner and left my parents’ house a little later. As soon as their front door closed behind me, I sent Ashley a text.

Me: Any chance you can come over after work tomorrow? I need your help with something.

My mind was made up, and win or lose, I was following through with this. I refused to be the last single woman standing. Not at Ashley’s wedding. Not when it might be as easy as answering a few questions to get a date I might just actually hit it off with.

9

FOSTER

“The woman’s hands were so sweaty, man,” the client complained as we debriefed about his date the night before.

Since my promotion, I hadn’t been very hands-on with the clients, but part of my job was to manage complaints, and this guy had a whole laundry list of them. “I hate sweat. It’s so unhygienic. This never would’ve happened if you were my case manager.”