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Poppy
The bartender sits my beverage on the wooden bar. Sighing, I place my lips on the rim of the crystal glass, taking slow sips of the cool Long Island Iced Tea as New York’s nightly breeze tickles my bangs across my forehead.
When I scan the rooftop, the dim light casts a soft glow, creating a romantic aura, and the smell of exquisite food fills my nostrils. People dressed in elegant clothing and expensive jewelry litter the tables, and their chatter overshadows the classical music humming in the air.
Nervousness swallows me whole like a tidal wave as I tap my foot against the concrete floor.
Any minute now, my date, Mason, should be walking through the wooden doors. We matched on a sugar baby website, and I know it’s not the best idea to meet men on the internet, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ve never been the type to meet men on dating sites, but I had no choice. He needs to play as my fake fiancé, so I can get into good graces with my mother and in turn have access to my inheritance. Not any guy will do, he has to be the perfect match on paper and Mason is the perfect candidate.
Well educated. Check.
Net worth over a million dollars. Check.
Clean background. Check.
All he has to do is pass my interview and sign my contract and we’ll get the ball rolling.
When I clutch my purse, I fish for my compact mirror, open it, then I stare at myself in the mirror.
My makeup is light and natural, with red lipstick painting my lips, making my light brown complexion pop. I try not to overdo it, and I don’t want to look desperate either.
I tuck the mirror back into my purse and rest my elbow on the bar as my gaze drifts back to the entrance. My anxiety explodes in my chest and the tea is trying to make its way back up my throat.
The bartender, dressed in a crisp shirt and pants, smiles. “Do you need anything else, beautiful?”
My eyes drift back to the entrance and a guy with brown hair and soft eyes scans the bar, and he glances at me. He makes his way toward me.
Mason is cute.
He strolls right next to me, embraces a short woman near where I’m sitting, and my smile deflates before I glance at the bartender, plastering a fake smile across my face.
A knife so I can cut all the anxiety out of my chest.
“No, thank you.”
He turns his attention to the next customer.
What if Mason is not who he says he is? What if he’s crazy? I should have asked him to FaceTime me. Clearly, I didn’t think this through. I FaceTime every guy before the official meeting, but he told me he couldn’t do it for personal reasons.
My phone hums in my purse, so I grab it, then I swipe left, and a message from Mason pops up on the screen, and I read it.
Mason: Something came up, another time.
I tuck my cracked phone into my purse.
Disappointment sprouts in my chest like a weed.
This is the fifth date I’ve been stood up on, and he was my last hope. Time is ticking, and my bills are getting taller than the Empire State. My poor savings is getting smaller by the week. I have enough money to cover my next rent, but I don’t know how I’m going to cover the rest of my bills.
When my mother blacklisted me, she cut off my credit cards and disowned me as her child; it left a gigantic hole in my chest. The more time I spent away from my family, the bigger the hole in my chest gets. She disowned me because I didn’t want to marry herpreciousLink.
My mother is quite the parent.
Link was a piece of work. He treated me like shit, even cheated on me. My stepfather was banking on using Link’s connection with a winery company so it could help him make millions of dollars.
I work at a shitty bar, with men who can’t keep their grabby hands off me and proposition me to do dirty things to them for extra crash. If I didn’t have a moral compass, I’d probably consider it. What am I going to do if this doesn’t work out?
I need my mother’s approval. I’m desperate for it. Being the outcast of my family is so lonely that sometimes, I cry. My mother hasn’t ever gone this long without speaking to me. Six months is too long to be without your family. I wasted too much time on Mason, and I can’t keep going on blind dates in hopes someone would actually stick to their word. Coming here was a waste of time, and I wasted my money on a twenty-dollar drink. Maybe my sister, Sophia, can ask her husband if he has suitable any friends, but I don’t want to involve them in my bullshit. Plus, I never liked Tate, so I don’t need to ask him for a favor. From what Sophia told me about him, he would want something in return. I’ll match with someone else online and if I can’t find someone, then I might have to go back to Link. The thought alone scares me. Getting sucked back into Link’s orbit and being told I’ll never find better than him doesn’t sit right with me.
