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"Six-thirty. She wants to meet me a half hour earlier. Something has got to be wrong."
"What the hell is the rush? I mean, she's kept you waiting all these years." Bryce laughed, looking over to Carter and Hunter.
"Man, she hasn't kept me waiting. We are friends. It is possible for me to be friends with a woman," I bit out.
"Sure..." Hunter said before all three of my brothers burst into laughter.
Shortly after I had sent my last text to Sophie, our dinner was dropped onto the table. My mind was so distracted I could barely eat, which was just another thing that my brothers decided to bug me about. I had never been so happy to have my favorite night of the week end.
I drove home in silence, had a hot shower, and crawled into bed, turning the TV on. I was surprised when my phone vibrated and Sophie's name popped up on my screen. As I read her message asking me to meet her yet another half an hour earlier than previously agreed upon, I knew that whatever it was she wanted to talk to me about was important. However, when I asked her once again, she wouldn't even hint at what the issue was.
I shut the light off, shut my phone off, and rolled onto my side and fought to fall asleep.
3
Sophie
“IWill Wait” by Mumford and Sons played in my ear as I ran up the last flight of stairs back to my condo. I had completed my nine-mile run in record time today. Out of breath, I leaned against the wall and fumbled with my key, finally inserted it into the lock, and opened the door to my place. I walked in, kicked off my sneakers, removed my headband from my hair, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I pulled the earbuds from my ears and dropped my iPod onto the table before I made my way down the hall to the washroom. I turned on the shower, making sure the water was the right temperature before I pealed myself out of my workout gear. I'd spent the morning working, and after dealing with a rather testy client, going over his corporate year end, I had decided that I need to get into the gym and work off my stress. The client wasn't the only reason I needed to work off some steam. Dinner with Chase tonight was the other reason.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over my body. As the water beat down on my aching muscles, I tried my best to clear my mind and relax. I dropped two drops of lavender essential oil onto the floor of the shower and took in a deep breath. By the time the water had run cold, I hoped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror wrapped in a towel. All the hard work of trying to quiet my mind and find my calm had been useless; my mind was more active now than it had been before I had gotten into the shower.
I glanced at my reflection and let out a deep sigh. My mind was busy going over everything that I wanted to talk to Chase about. I had spent the better part of the past week trying to figure out what would be the best way to pitch my idea to him, and after the list of ideas I had made, I still had nothing. I must have gone over fifty or sixty ways today alone on how to even begin the conversation with him tonight before I began to get frustrated.
"Accountants don't pitch people, Sophie," I said aloud to my reflection. The more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't about to make some colossal mistake.
Frustrated with myself, I left the bathroom, walked across the plush carpet in my bedroom, and began sifting through my closet. I needed something conservative yet sexy to wear tonight. I laughed to myself as I started going through my dresses. This is not a date, I thought to myself as I continued going through the dresses that hung in the back of my closet. I was growing frustrated. Accountantsdidhave sexy outfits; mine just seemed to be conservative or boring.
I let out a sigh, flipping to the next dress. "Whoa, way too sexy, too sexy, way too conservative, funeral, funeral," I mumbled as I flipped through the dresses that hung in my closet. "Finally...this is perfect!"
I squealed as I pulled out my favorite black cocktail dress and placed it on the bed. I stood back and looked it over. I had only purchased it because it had reminded me of the dress Julia Roberts wore inPretty Woman. I seriously couldn't even remember if I had worn it, but it was perfect for tonight, and I smiled to myself, wandered over to my dresser, and pulled out my only matching black bra and pantie set.
"May as well know I am wearing something sexy underneath..." I mumbled as I slipped into them and then went back to the bathroom and pulled out my makeup bag.
I sat down and brushed my hair, quickly sweeping it up into a clip on my head and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
"You better be prepared. He is a lawyer, after all," I murmured to myself. "You can't just go in there on a whim. Chase thinks twelve steps ahead of everyone and on everything."
How true that statement was. He would have every single argument against why this was a bad idea, if I knew him, which I did, and he would have them ready within sixty seconds of me spilling the beans. That reason alone was why I needed to have a solid pitch ready and have every answer to every reason why he was going to come up with as to why this was a bad idea.
I looked at myself in the mirror, blew out a breath, and smoothed moisturizer into my skin, then I grabbed the bottle of foundation. "Plus, he specializes in contract law. It’s going to be a nightmare, if you aren't prepared," I murmured.
I pumped out a squirt of foundation into the palm of my shaky hand and quickly smoothed that onto my skin, then I reached for my powder compact. Carefully, I smoothed out my foundation, making sure there were no bare spots, and reached for my eyeshadow. My stomach rolled in anticipation of our date, and my hands shook.
This whole meeting in public had been my bright idea. I could have just as easily invited him over for coffee and spoken to him in private about all of this, but no, I was the one who wanted to do this over dinner. I was the one who wanted to do it over dinner in a crowded restaurant. I had never even contemplated what would happen if he flat out refused on the spot, got up and walked out of the restaurant leaving me looking foolish sitting there all alone. How humiliating that would be, I thought. Within seconds of that realization, my stomach rolled. I was so nervous, I seriously wondered if I would even be able to eat anything. Another reason why a public meeting was probably not such a bright idea. I quickly lined my eyes with eyeliner and grabbed my mascara.
"What do I have to offer him?" I wondered out loud. "Nothing about my job is even remotely sexy. I'm a freaking accountant for goodness sakes. I guess I could help him from having to pay too much in tax, and I could definitely keep him out of jail for anything tax related." I looked at my reflection in the mirror, nervously smiled, and then dropped my head in my hands thinking how pathetic I sounded, even to myself.
Perhaps a drink, I thought. Maybe that would make it easier and take the edge off. I got up from my vanity and wandered into the kitchen. I pulled open my liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of gin, dropped two ice cubes into my glass, and poured myself a gin and soda. I took a sip of the cool liquid and went back to my vanity and began drying my hair.
Where would we meet, I thought to myself as I continued to dry my hair.I guess we could meet here, or perhaps somewhere between our condos would be better. Perhaps I could pay for a hotel. No, there was no way Chase would meet at a hotel. He was too well-known around town. Okay, so here. He'd have to come here. I didn't even know why I was so concerned about where we would meet. It wasn't as if we had to hide from anyone.
I ran my fingers through my hair, and as soon as it was dry, I shut the switch off on my hairdryer. I ran my brush through it, styling my strands with my fingers, and once I was satisfied, I grabbed the hairspray. As I stood in front of the mirror, looking myself over, I couldn't stop ringing my hands. My stomach still felt uneasy, and the anxiety was building in my chest, making it harder to breathe. I took another sip of gin and soda, praying that the alcohol would kick in and calm some of this anxiety I was feeling. I slipped my dress on and checked the time.
I still had forty-five minutes. I grabbed my glass and went out to the living room, sitting down on the couch. I grabbed my phone and called the restaurant to confirm the reservation time. I felt like I was going crazy. I had just booked the reservation not even twenty-four hours ago, and here I was, paranoid that perhaps I had made it for the wrong date, or the wrong time, or perhaps they didn't mark it down in their book.
I hung up the phone and glanced at my watch. I could get going but didn't really want to arrive too early. I didn't want to seem too eager. I'd rather walk into the restaurant late than be there before him.
I sat back, grabbed my drink and my notepad and pen, took a sip of my drink, and tried my best to come up with some sort of proposal.
