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And then she surprises me.
“Well, I did come here looking for an adventure. I promised Margo I’d do something out of the norm.” Her eyes are locked on me, and she’s mumbling loud enough for me to hear. “Besides, I deserve it. Brandon and Tiffany can go to hell.”
I’m siding with Margo. I don’t know who Brandon and Tiffany are, but if them going to hell will get her to go out with me, I’ll send them there myself.
“Okay.”
I can’t believe she said yes. “Meet me downstairs in the lobby at seven pm.”
“Seven it is. Um, what’s your name?”
I grin at her awkwardness because she’s so darn cute. And because I can’t help it. “Elliott. Elliott Carrington.”
“Hi, Elliott Carrington. I’m Kaitlyn Moore.”
“I’ll see you at seven, Kaitlyn.”
She gives me a shy smile before she closes the door.
Chapter3
Kaitlyn
Margo would be so proud. I, however, am mortified that I accepted a date with a stranger. But he works for the Fairchild.He can’t be all bad.
I know I shouldn’t have splurged on such a swanky hotel, but when I glanced down at that pink wedding invitation, my fingers brushing over the gold embossed flowers at the top as my brain flooded with memories of all the planning I’d done, I decided I deserved something good in my life, for me. At least once.
The man I thoughtI’dbe marrying this weekend with my best friend since high school by my side was getting ready to walk down the aisle with said friend. They even used my venue. To be fair, there are few prime locations in our hometown to have a wedding, but still. They could have at least picked one of my least favorites.
While Brandon may not have cared, Tiffany knew every aspect of my dream wedding, from the color theme to my flower choices, even the clothes I planned to pack for the honeymoon. And then, to send me an invitation at the last minute was a slap in the face.
I decided I could save my money againaftermy trip to New York.
And now, here I am, about to spend the evening with a man I know nothing about. Probably not my smartest move, but I like to give people a chance. Besides, he’s very handsome. Tall, dark hair, scruff. I didn’t know I liked scruff on a man. He has a rugged face. I’m guessing he had acne as child and it left its mark on him. Nothing serious though, just a handful of faint scars. And who doesn’t have scars from our teenage years? I think it adds to his appeal. He also fills out a polo shirt very nicely. I do find it odd that the Fairchild hotel allows staff to dress so casually, though. Not that he was in dirty jeans or anything, but all the other staff I saw were dressed in uniform.
As the elevator descends to the lobby, I do a mental check. After a quick shower to freshen up from the flight, I unpacked before doing my hair and make-up. I chose a simple maxi dress for tonight with my white sandals and kept my hair down.
The doors slide open, and I step out, look around, and head toward the seating area in the lobby’s center. There’s a ring of two sofas, four single chairs, a large square table in the middle, and a massive display of colorful summer blooms.
The registration area to my left is hopping, and the lineup to check in is lengthy. To my right, I can see the bar and what I assume is the entrance to a dining room behind it.
“What do you think?”
“Oh!” Elliott surprises me, coming up from behind. I turn, feeling my face flush, but I don’t know if it’s because he caught me off guard or because he’s even more handsome tonight than earlier.
“Spontaneity isn’t my strong suit,” I blurt out.
He arches one dark brow. “Is that your way of telling me you’ve changed your mind about dinner?”
I put a hand on my chest. “Oh, gosh, no. Not at all. I’ve been accused of being overly cautious. This is all so new to me. New York, on my own, dinner with a man I don’t know.” I’m blabbering and can feel the redness creeping up my neck onto my cheeks.
His smile softens his angular jaw. His stormy blue eyes twinkle as though he has a joke he’s not sharing. He takes my elbow and guides me out of the traffic flow and over near the back of one sofa. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Um, I don’t know. I guess the options are endless in New York.” My gaze darts around the expansive room but is quick to zero back in on Elliott. I love his name. It’s so rich sounding. I wonder what he does. Tonight he’s wearing dark jeans with black loafers, and a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to below his elbows.
“What are your favorites? Let’s start there.”
“I love Mexican and Chinese. Oh, and Italian. You can also never go wrong with a good American burger.”
