Page 4 of Chance

I waited until Amelia got home to worry about what I was going to wear. “She said yes?” Amelia jumped at me like we just won the lottery. “O-M-G we have to get you an outfit. I won’t see you before you go, so let me fix you up tonight. I don’t have homework, so we can plan your wardrobe. Where are you taking her?” Ams made me replay the entire event at least six times asking for inflection and trying to read what Jovie meant. Amelia laid out my clothes for the date and talked me through all the Jovie research my stalker sister had done since the book came out. It really didn’t help much; I knew she liked books. I needed to know personal stuff, but that would have to wait. I got Jovie’s text with her address just as I settled in next to Amelia to watch Gone with the Wind.

Work the following day was unbearable. I went through the motions from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon, but none of it actually registered. I looked over spreadsheets, watching the clock obsessively, and took calls where I had to make the person repeat themselves. I ate lunch with the usual people at the bistro across from my building and nodded absentmindedly when they addressed me. I pulled up a map during lunch to see how far it was to her house just before I left for the day. Half a mile. How had we not met before? I dressed in the clothes Ams laid out and made a point to do my own grooming so my beard looked polished, not like a bad reality TV star. I nearly shaved it entirely, but thought better of it. I liked the way it looked.

SEVEN

Jovie

Reese and Lydia met me at the mall and we made a beeline for sweet tea before I let them lead me to Victoria’s Secret. I rolled my eyes when my sisters dragged me inside. Reese held up cute matching underwear sets and strutted her petite frame in front of the mirrors while Lydia sniffed every perfume the place offered. It was insane how little we looked alike. Our dark-haired parents had somehow created a rainbow of daughters. A blond, a brunette, and a redhead.

“Tell me about him,” Reese demanded, handing me another bra over the door. It was navy blue and lacy with a matching set of hip-hugging underwear. I saw Lydia’s feet join her outside the door.

“I don’t know much, to be honest. He has a thick British accent, volunteers two days a month doing something at the Y, and his dog is in serious need of my help. Ewan has a sister and she liked my book. The jury is out on whether that’s good or bad.” I shrugged and studied myself in the bra. It really wasn’t too bad and kinda made me feel sexy. I didn’t have much in the way of breasts, but my ass looked good in the navy lace. “You know he isn’t going to see any of this, right? I need help with clothes my date will actually see.” I took the underwear off and got dressed. Whether he was seeing them or not, I was buying one in every color.

“Sexy underwear will give you confidence. And we all know you need confidence.” Lydia was picking through a clearance bin when I met her outside the dressing room. “What does Ewan look like?” Lydia gave me the sister smirk, and I rolled my eyes.

“He’s pretty hot, actually.” I played it off, but Ewan was more than pretty hot. The man was delicious. “Brown eyes, dark hair, and he has a beard, which you will appreciate,” Reese made a purring sound. She had a serious thing for men with beards. “He’s tall, like probably six three or four.” They went on grilling me for information while we walked to the cute boutique at the other end of the mall, and they stopped abruptly in front of me.

“Wait, you are talking like you might actually be attracted to this guy.” Lydia turned to examine my smile and promptly punched me in the arm. I hit her back and we went in to the boutique. After arguing for what seemed an eternity, I ended up with dark denim pixie pants, a black sequined top and a white jacket. Classy, but not too out of my comfort zone. Reese came home with me and insisted on pizza and dying my gray roots. Lydia had to go pick up Ollie from his friend’s house so our older sister left pouting because she couldn’t come hang with us. Sister outings were rare. We were all busy, all worked, and Lydia had Ollie. Lydia had Oliver way too young and was raising him alone. Reese and I gave up on asking who Ollie’s dad was before he was even born. Lydia kept her secret for her reasons, and in the end, it didn’t matter. Oliver was a good kid, and she was a fabulous mother.

Reese and I got to my place and chatted about how he asked me to dinner as opposed to the “we should hang out” shit most guys do. Reese assured me that Ewan intended on actually talking to me and not just “putting his penis in me”. I loved my vulgar little sister. I sent him my address before I fell asleep watching The Princess Bride. I had obviously gone mad, like nearing thirty had pushed me over some threshold into cuckoo land.

By lunch the next day, I had worked myself into a crazed mess. I almost texted him to cancel. I wanted to so badly. The chances of me saying something out of line or crazyily inappropriate were astronomical. Somewhere in my subconscious was an imp that loved to rear its head at the most inopportune times and ruin me. Maybe a disclaimer would be my best bet?

I paced the hall when I wasn’t keeping myself busy scrubbing the shop from top to bottom the next morning. Between training clients, I busied myself with mindless tasks and tried not to think about how the night was going to end with him laughing in my face. I interviewed two people for the new grooming position, but neither had the experience we were looking for, and one seemed to be strung out. Unfortunately, it was the norm for groomers. Something about uppers was appealing to them. It was a dangerous habit to have when you were using scissors on someone’s pet.

When I finally got home, I spent more time in the shower than I thought possible and reapplied my makeup twice. The knock on my door made me stop pacing and inspect my pants for stray Merlin hairs. I was always covered in dog hair. I smeared on some lip gloss and checked the mirror for the millionth time. I never wore makeup, not even mascara, so my reflection looked like another person. At least, the other person was kinda pretty. I gathered myself and the black clutch Reese let me borrow to answer the door. Ewan wore a silver button down with black dress pants and had his hands tucked in his pockets again. When I jerked the door open a little too eagerly, Ewan looked me up and down while I did the same. Why the hell had he asked me to dinner?

The man was gorgeous in his dress shirt and black dress pants, “Hey,” I breathed stupidly. Gods, I was a mess.

He flashed me his drool-worthy smile. “You look amazing.” My face gave my shock away because Ewan continued, “It was a simple compliment, no ulterior motives, but you do look nice,” Ewan winked to tell me he was joking, and I rolled my eyes. The man would never ask me out again after the fool I made of myself.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

We walked to his MINI parked next to my ancient Honda, and my date opened the door that should have been the driver’s side, but wasn’t. I slid in and he walked around to get in after me. My heart was thundering in my chest and ears and every other body part. “You don’t have any food aversions I need to be made aware of, do you?” I shook my head, trying to discreetly dry my sweating hands. Nearly thirty and terrified of a date.

He backed out of the parking spot and started toward downtown. I wanted to talk to him, to ask him a million questions, but knew to wait until dinner to make an ass of myself. Then I would only need to find a ride home from a restaurant instead of being stranded on the road side. “Are you mute now?” Ewan’s eyes flicked to me before going back to the road. I adjusted so I could see his mischievous grin and giggled. Thankfully, it wasn’t the goofy giggle from the other night.

“No, I would kind of like to make it to dinner before saying something incredibly stupid.” At least I was being honest. He responded with that deep laugh, making me slightly lustful. “Can I start with a disclaimer?”

Ewan cocked an eyebrow. “If you feel the need.”

“I do.” I inhaled and let the words fall out, “I honestly don’t remember how long it’s been since I was in a date-like situation and sarcasm tends to be my crutch when I’m nervous, so, please try not to let me offend you.” I braced for his rejection, but he delivered another laugh as we slid into a parking place in a random parking garage downtown. The places to eat on that particular side were all nice, so he had good taste in food. He held his finger up as I unbuckled making me sit still until he hurried around to open my door and offered me his hand to get out. I took it and he tucked my arm under his so they were linked before my gorgeous date led me to the elevator of the parking structure. His over-the-top chivalry was cute.

Ewan leaned close to my ear as other people followed us into the musty elevator. “I understand you more than you know.” His breath was hot on my neck, and his scent overpowered the other smells surrounding us. It was slightly spicy, and insanely masculine, but not overwhelming. I nodded, discreetly licking my lips, and he leaned away from me but stayed closer than before.

Downtown was busy, but not packed, and Ewan looked around casually as we walked. I opened my mouth to break the silence, but he beat me to it. “Drinks first, or dinner?” We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk so people had to move around us and looked me in the eyes. I caught my attention darting to his gorgeous full lips and tried to focus.

“I’m not picky.” Ewan smirked and nodded before tugging me along after him again. He was only about five inches taller than me but his long strides took two of mine to keep up with him. We turned down a seemingly-empty alley and stopped in front of a black door under a red globe light—a speak easy. Everything about him was calm and confident. I had a very hard time believing what he said in the elevator, but hoped I looked at least half as composed as my date did. Once in the narrow hall, he dropped my arm and got his ID out; I followed suit. I really needed to get out more. Ewan immediately snatched my license and gave it a quick glance before handing it back. A devilish smile broke out across his mouth.

“What?” I demanded. I knew the picture wasn’t great, but it wasn’t worthy of the kind of look Ewan gave it.

“Nothing,” he teased, pushing the door open to reveal a barely lit room. There was a bar on one end and couches leading to a fireplace on the other. Books, very old books, framed the fireplace, reaching to the ceiling, and the shelves were peppered with antique globes and trinkets. The man inside checked our IDs, and I followed him into the first set of couches. Ewan handed me what appeared to be a leather-bound dictionary before scooting in close to read over my shoulder. It was the drink menu. All of the drinks were named after literary characters or authors. Either the guy was my soul mate or had done his research on me. His smell tickled at my nose again making me smile. Between the drink names and his intoxicating smell, I was a happy person. He dropped his license in my lap. “We have the same birthday,” his whisper hit my ear. I cocked my head to look at him before studying his ID. We did. September twenty-sixth, but he was five years older.

“I assumed you were laughing at my picture,” I admitted. The picture on his made him look like a male model, hell, he appeared the same in real life. He chuckled, and a waiter appeared for our drink orders. Once the waiter disappeared, Ewan turned back to me.

“No, the picture is good. The glasses suit you.” I muttered a thank you and went back to flipping through the menu, reading drink descriptions, and feeling him stare at my profile. “Please don’t make me pry conversation out of you.” Ewan took the menu from me and tossed it on the table. Apparently, Reese had been right—the guy wanted to talk to me.

“Sorry, what do you want to talk about?”

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