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Well, if I want a husband, I need to put myself out there, get a man’s attention, and then try to hold it for more than a few days. Based on my history, it seems an impossible task, but I’m not going to give up.
I’ve barely stepped foot out of the bathroom when Lyla whistles.
“Is it too much?” I ask her as I do a spin in front of my phone.
“You look hot! This guy is going to be begging to get in your panties tonight.”
“I may just kiss him good night and send him on his way.”
“Right. Sure,” she says like she doesn’t believe me.
“Thanks for the help.”
“No problem. Guess I should get back to studying for…one of the three classes I’m currently failing.”
“It can’t be that bad,” I tell her.
“Oh, I wish it wasn’t. Text me later to let me know how it goes.”
“Okay, I will,” I agree before ending the call.
I have time to brush my teeth and my long, straight brown hair once before the doorbell rings.
I probably should’ve told Lyla that this Joe guy was picking me up. She would’ve berated me, told me that I was crazy and it wasn’t safe. But when we started talking and he asked if I was from Clayton, it just sort of slipped out that I lived in a nearby town house community. The next thing I knew, he was asking me to dinner, and I was so surprised and excited that I gave him my town house number.
When I open the door, his jaw visibly drops. “Wow,” he says as his eyes make their way up to my face slowly. “Wow. You look amazing…”
Great. He doesn’t remember my name, but he remembered my address. That’s probably not a great sign.
“Holly,” I remind him. “And you’re Joe, right?”
“Right. Sorry,” he says with a charming grin. “You took the words out of my mouth.”
I decide to take that as a compliment and not a slight.
“Come in. I just need to grab my keys and my purse,” I tell him as I hold the door open and grab both from the bar in the kitchen.
“Nice place,” he says. “You live by yourself?”
My stomach clenches at his question. He’s probably just making conversation, not asking if anyone will hear me scream if he brutally murders me right here and now.
“Ah, no. My roommate is out,” I lie. “He works second shift.”
“He?” His face falls a little.
“Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? But we’re just friends.” And he’s imaginary.
“Oh, okay. Ready?”
“Yes,” I say as I start toward the door. “So, where are we going to eat?”
“Dinner is going to wait. I’ve got other plans for us first. Do you mind driving?”
“You…you want me to drive?” I lock up the front door and glance around the dark parking lot, searching for the black car he was in at the gas station.
“If you don’t mind? I might have a drink or two and don’t want to risk driving afterward.”
“Oh. Right.” Then I guess I won’t be having anything to drink.
