Chapter 6
Don’t push me away and wonder where I went.
—Ellodie’s secret thoughts
ELLODIE
“Didn’t you just break up with what’s his name?” Dad asked, sounding amused.
“I did,” I confirmed. “But you know the deal.”
“The deal where you say yes to every single person who asks you on a date until you find the one?”
I could hear the eye roll from here.
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I can see it might’ve been a mistake to decide to do that, though.”
“You think?” Dad laughed. “Hey, Flower had her baby last night.”
“She did?” I squealed excitedly. “Mare or colt?”
Flower was my favorite horse on the farm. She wasn’t rideable because she was half feral—my dad did rescue mustangs on top of everything else—but she was still a great friend as long as you didn’t try to ride her.
“Colt. All black,” he said. “He’s feisty, too. AndFlower’s actually taking care of this one.”
I smiled as I thought back to the other baby she’d refused to feed, and we’d ended up bottle feeding.
“That’s good.” I smiled. “Dad, I gotta go. I think my date just pulled up.”
“Did he get out and come to your door?” he asked.
I scoffed. “I didn’t tell him which one was mine. I also didn’t tell him which apartment building was mine. I’m waiting outside so he doesn’t see where I come out.”
“Smart,” he said. “Let us know when you make it home, so I don’t worry.”
After promising I would, I headed to my date. Darron.
He was forty something, worked at the hospital as a cosmetic surgeon, and liked golf.
I didn’t like golf, but I figured I could handle a couple of hours at TopGolf with him if I had to.
I was wrong.
It was the worst.
It all started when I met him on the sidewalk three buildings down from my actual apartment building.
“Hi.” I smiled at him.
His face fit the photo he’d used on his dating profile.
He was around five-foot-eleven, had graying black hair that was sexy on most men, but only made him look a bit older than the claimed picture looked. He had a face that looked like he did cosmetic work to it on the regular, though. And his hand was smooth as a baby’s butt when he offered it to me.
“You must be Ellodie,” he smiled a brilliantly white, obviously veneered, smile at me. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”
I smiled back, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Darron.”
DarronSimpson, according to his dating profile and the information he’d shared about himself, was a surgeon. IfI had to guess, he focused his practice on the very rich and famous. No pro bono cases for him.
He worked at the same hospital as me, and was a divorced father of two.
“Ready to go?” he asked as he took a look around.
I inwardly laughed at his obvious repulsion to my apartment complex.
A year ago, when I’d gone back to school to start my nurse anesthetist path, I’d contemplated buying a small house in Denton, but ultimately chose not to because I wanted something spectacular. Not something I could afford at the time.
So, the apartment would stay until I could get what I wanted. ButI did have my eye on an up-and-coming subdivision on the outskirts of the city that made me drool every time I drove past a house.
I’d contemplated buying a lot—I mean, with my inheritance from my family, I could afford it—but I tried not to touch that money unless absolutely necessary.
Needless to say, the apartment was on the cheaper side because it wasn’t in the best part of town, but I continued to live there because I could save a lot of my paycheck to put toward my future home.
It was obvious that ol’ Darron was more than ready to go with the way he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure his car hadn’t moved.
“I am,” I confirmed, heading to the passenger side of his Audi.
He didn’t get the door for me, nor did he wait until I was inside before he dropped into his own seat, started the car, and put it into drive.
I rolled my eyes at his haste to leave.
Luckily, the drive was fast, and we got straight in because apparently Darron came to TopGolf a lot to work on his driving game… or so he said.
As a woman who despised golf—the only thing I could find somewhat exciting about it was the prospect of a tan—hitting the ball was surprisingly fun.
The not-fun aspect of it was the way Darron kept criticizing my form.
“If you pivot your hips…” he suggested, reaching forward.
I stepped out of his path and switched to a left-handed stance.
He backed away, eyes narrowed.
I gave the ball the best whack I could and was pleasantly surprised when it went to an actual number out in the field.
“If you would do what I tell you to do…” He crossed his arms and looked at me like I was a misbehaving child, instead of the woman he’d asked out on a date.
I leaned back and stretched my neck, wondering why I’d made the stupid ‘accept all dates’ resolution at the beginning of the new year.
The one and only date I’d turned down had been a possible serial killer.
At the time, I’d been upset with myself for not keeping up with my resolution and failing within three months of the start of the year. But now, after all I’d learned from my sexy cop friend, I saw that it wasn’t me failing, but actually surviving.
I mean, what would have happened if I’d taken that date?
WouldI be dead like the others?
Even worse, I didn’t know how many others there were before or after me. HadI shared the vibe, would it have changed anything?
I didn’t think it would.
Truthfully, all I had to go on at the time was the weird vibe I was getting from him when he insisted on going for a hike on an unknown trail.
“Would you like me to go?” Darron asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I shrugged and got off the pad, my gaze going to the next stall over as all the friends there had fun hitting shitty shots.
Meanwhile, Darron was so stupidly good that I knew he did this a whole lot more than I’d ever be interested in witnessing.
A waitress came by and asked us if we’d like any food or drinks.
I’d begun to answer that I’d love a beer or a Coke or something, but Darron interrupted saying, “No. We won’t need anything.”
He didn’t even say thank you.
What the fuck?
Then he went back to hitting balls, and I was left wondering if it would be okay to ask him to take me home yet.
It’d been a solid ten minutes. Was that too short of a time?
I leaned back in the slightly uncomfortable chair and pulled out my phone.
“Would you like to go?” Darron asked after a solid twenty minutes of swinging.
It was at that point I looked up from the romance novel I was reading, checked the time on the wall, and closed my phone.
“Hmm?” I asked.
“Would you like to hit some more?” he asked.
“You mean, you’re going to share the pad and those balls with me?” I asked.
He frowned hard at me. “You didn’t say you wanted to hit.”
I sure didn’t.
“I’d like to go home now, if you don’t mind.” I paused. “Unless you’re interested in staying longer. I can just grab an Uber.”
I think he finally realized that he’d fucked up and thought to maybe salvage the date in the car, so he put his club up and headed toward me.
I stood up before he could get to me, then headed to the door.
I took the stairs instead of the elevator, causing him to curse and follow me despite his obvious desire to take the easier route.
When we got down to the car, I yet again opened my own door, then played with the hem of my dress as he tried to make small talk.
Joke was on him. I didn’t have any small talk in me after this date.
Then, as if in a comedy show where all the things that could go wrong did, a loud pop sounded. Seconds later, Darron was cursing and pulling over in the middle of an on ramp.
Cars passed by honking, and the Audi rocked as they blew past.
He got his phone out and muttered under his breath as he searched for whatever was so important in his phone.
It took a solid three minutes of this before I lost patience with him and got out of the car.
“Hey, give me a minute to call TripleA,” he grumbled.
Luckily, the tire that needed changing was on the right side, but with one glance at it, I knew he’d need a completely new tire and rim.
Hearing him talking from inside the car, I went to the back hatch of his expensive car and started my search for the spare tire.
I’d just found the jack and the tire when he got out of his car and said, “TripleA is on their way.”
I would be done before they’d even dispatch the call.
Snatching up the tire iron and the jack, I went to work.
“You should lift it up a little more,” Darron suggested.
I glanced up at him for a heartbeat in time before shaking my head and saying, “You’ve never changed a tire before, have you?”
He made some noise in his throat before saying, “I live in Dallas and pay for TripleA for a reason.”
“Yeah,” I said. “ButTripleA will be here in what? An hour at minimum?”
He grunted.
“To answer your suggestion about lifting the car up more, that’s not what you should do when you’re trying to take the lug nuts off. If you had it in the air more, all the tire would do is spin and I’d get no traction,” I explained patiently.
He shrugged, then went back to playing on his phone.
I was four lug nuts in when the police cruiser pulled up behind me.
And wouldn’t you know, none other than HotCop got out, a brilliant smile on his lips, aimed directly at me.