CHAPTER FOUR
GABE
Did I know Amelia’s Dad?
It’s hard not to grin at that question and all the memories it brings back.
That was a rough time for us at Everly Financial.
We were displaced from our offices and stuck in some dinky little strip mall while we waited for our new office building to finish being built.
The space was too small, and we were all going stir crazy.
I had unofficially become the manager at that time, and I was feeling the stress and pressure to keep the guys in line, our numbers up, our clients happy, and all without any additional pay.
Chris had never given me issues, and then suddenly he took up with a cute little stylist that worked in the space next to us.
Then boom! We moved into our new offices and he decided to give his notice.
I was sad to see him go. Naturally, I was happy that he had found love after being divorced for so many years.
Though a seed of jealousy had peppered its way into me.
I was only a few months out of breaking off my engagement with Deena at that time, and just the sight of Chris practically floating on air made me all the more aware of how deeply my ex had hurt me.
“Yeah, I knew Chris,” I say, shifting the bags of produce where the flimsy handles are digging into my shoulder.
This date is unlike any I’ve ever had. Taylor was so perky and upbeat on the phone.
I called, intending to ask her to have dinner with me at a local restaurant that served a bit of everything.
She turned me down flat and I thought that was the end of that.
I had nothing invested in going out with her at that point, yet an odd disappointment had immediately descended on me.
Then she completely threw me for a loop when she said that I could instead meet her at the local Farmers Market at Benford Park.
It was unconventional, and I was a man that was used to doing things by the book.
I had stammered and was actually on the verge of saying no when suddenly I was agreeing instead.
Some small part of my brain reminded me that I had been just thinking about how lonely I was and how forty wasn’t that far away.
What I had been doing before wasn’t working, so obviously I needed to start doing things differently.
Besides, what was the big deal over where we met as long as we did meet?
And that clinched it for me.
Going by Mark’s description, I had expected a beautiful woman.
The one standing in front of her bright red sports car in a light blue and green dress that molded to her full breasts and shapely hips was beyond beautiful.
She was downright gorgeous. I had been so stunned that instead of easing into the gravel parking lot my foot had pressed down on the gas as the need to park and get to Taylor filled me.
My poor SUV’s paint job had paid the price for that eagerness. No matter, it wasn’t important.
What was important was that I got to her before she mistakenly thought she had been stood up.
Except I immediately became tongue-tied once we were face to face.
She was petite, possessed huge blue eyes that made something in my chest feel tight, and an angelic smile that turned my brain to mush.
Like a well-trained pet, I followed a step behind her when she seized my hand and led me around the farmers market.
She was gorgeous and also rather rude. Her questions were blunt and when she didn’t like my answer, her slim, perfect little nose would scrunch up as if she smelled something nasty. I felt off-balanced around her, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“Well, were you friends with him or you hated him like you do Mark?” she asks in that pushy way she has.
“I never said I hated Mark.” Rapidly I try to remember exactly what I said. “I said we weren’t friends. There’s a difference.”
The bag that she’s carrying with the honey in it hits me in the thigh as we walk and I wonder if that’s in retaliation for not liking her friend’s boyfriend.
Taylor stops at another vendor and starts pawing through their pile of carrots. I discreetly glance into one of the bags I’m carrying for her and see a bunch of carrots in it. What is she planning to do with all this, anyway?
She buys more carrots and stuffs them into yet another bag that she pulls from her blue purse that exactly matches the shade of blue in her dress. My eyes drop and I notice the dirty blue tennis shoes on her feet.
And I was thinking about wearing a suit jacket here to make a nice impression and she’s casual and yet perfection. Women have it so much easier than men.
“Were you friends with Amelia’s dad? You still haven’t answered that.”
I suppose I haven’t. It’s so easy to get off track with her.
“Yes, we were friends.”
She flashes me a blindingly bright smile. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her blue eyes appraise me. “You’re a hard man to get to know.”
What the hell does that mean?
“I was thinking, would you like to have dinner with me? A nice home-cooked healthy meal.”
“I can cook, you know.”
Her lips part before snapping closed. The warmth in her gaze turning frosty.
“And? Because you can do it yourself that means you won’t appreciate not having to?
” Her hands go to her hips as she glares up at me.
“I thought this would be a nice way to extend our time together and actually get to know each other better.”
Well, damn. I feel about two feet high now and thoroughly put in my place.
Yet at the same time oddly flattered. When was the last time a woman wanted to get to know me?
Normally they cared about what I drove, whether I owned my own house, and what my job was.
All material possessions that would be of benefit to them, nothing that was purely me.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
That smile is back in full force. “You’re very welcome. Want to spin by around six tonight?”
“Yes.”
We part ways soon after with Taylor promising to text me her address.
That had to be the oddest date I’d ever been on, and strangely, I cannot wait until six to see her again.
Normally, I would have changed clothes for a date.
Considering we just saw each other and how casual Taylor was I’m afraid how she might view that.
I do feel the need to shower a second time and clean up my beard a little more.
I take pride in my appearance, work hard to maintain my weight, keep in decent shape, and try not to scrutinize every new line that appears on my face.
Now I’m wondering what she thinks of me, and if she’s as attracted to me as I am to her.
Her place isn’t that far from my own home.
She lives in one of the newer town homes they built only a few years ago.
When Taylor opens the door, she’s in tiny jean shorts and a bright pink tank top.
I’m glad I didn’t change into something nicer and also a little peeved at myself for even caring how I’m dressed.
This isn’t a business meeting, and it doesn’t even feel like a real date.
I’m not quite certain how to categorize this.
“Hey.” I bought her flowers and her produce earlier, but now I’m second-guessing my decision not to stop for more flowers or at least a bottle of wine.
“Gabe! Thanks for coming!” Taylor enthuses, stepping aside and waving me inside.
The front door leads directly into the living room and a single glance around confirms this is all Taylor.
Mellow green walls, soft tan overstuffed couch with light green throw pillows, colorful artwork on the walls and an overall feeling of comfort.
A fat gray and black cat waddles over and plants itself at my feet.
Staring down into its bright yellow eyes, my nose starts twitching.
Before long, my eyes are tearing up and I’m sneezing my head off.
“Oh fuck! Are you allergic to cats?” Taylor asks, running over to a side table and grabbing a box of tissues, which she then shoves at me.
Mopping at my streaming face, I say, “Didn’t think so.” Except I’m all clogged up and it comes out as, “Dink ink oh.”
“You poor guy!” Taylor opens the door and grabs my arm, guiding me right back outside. “Want to have dinner at your place instead?”
Huffing like I’ve just run a marathon, which I have done before, and without all this rapid breathing, I nod miserably.
“Text me your address and let me pack up the food and I’ll meet you there.” Concerned eyes look me over. “Are you going to be okay to drive?”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer and instead pushes me toward one of the flimsy white plastic chairs on her porch. “Sit down and I’ll be right back. I’ll drive us to your place.”
Once again, she’s in motion before I can push out a response.
Swinging around, she dashes back inside.
True to her word, she’s back in only a few minutes, with a large bag in one hand and her purse in the other.
Looping her purse strap over her shoulder, she takes my arm and helps me to my feet.
“Which one is yours?” She asks, looking between a navy Jeep and my black SUV.
I fumble in my pocket and take out my key fob. The SUV’s headlights flashing as I unlock the doors.
“HA!” she laughs, walking carefully down the steps with me to my vehicle. “I watched you tear up the parking lot today. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to drive like a maniac?”
“Wasn’t,” I pout, as she opens the passenger door for me. Still clutching the box of tissues, I climb inside and let out a frustrated sigh. Tonight is not going at all how I planned.
Taylor puts the bag of food and her purse into the backseat before hopping up into the Cadillac and settling into the leather seat with a happy wiggle. My eyesight is slightly blurry from my watery eyes, but I can’t help but think how right she looks there.
And how right she would look in my life.