Chapter 3 Bianca
BIANCA
“You’re not getting any younger,” my mother tells me through the speakerphone as I wash the final dish sitting in the sink. “George is a perfect match for you, and he can father many children for our family.”
“Ma, seriously. Have you gone off the deep end?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I am very serious. What’s wrong with George?”
“How much time do you have?” I laugh, but she doesn’t find my sense of humor very funny.
George is just as boring as his name. He’s a computer programmer, spending just as many hours chained to a desk as me.
He’s socially awkward and has been ever since we were kids, probably due to the fact that he barely left his room because he was addicted to video games.
He’s not awful to look at, but damn, he’s about as interesting as watching water boil.
“He has a good job, his family adores you, and he owns his own car.”
For fuck’s sake. I roll my eyes. “So, if a man owns a car, he’s husband material?”
I don’t know what century my mother is living in, but it’s not this one. Most women don’t need a man to make their life complete, and I’m one of them. I’m successful, with my own place and a car. I don’t need a man to provide for me, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.
“He has nice teeth too,” she adds, like that little detail should be enough to seal the deal.
If this conversation goes on any longer, my eyes are going to be permanently lodged in the back of my eye sockets. “Do you even hear yourself?”
From the moment I turned twenty-five, my mother has been on my back about getting married and having children as quickly as possible.
I keep hearing about the fact that, by my age, she had three children and had been married for five years.
I get that was the norm for her generation, but I’m too focused on my career and unwilling to settle for any relationship that’s less than spectacular.
But by her standards, I am failing at life. Soon, my eggs will shrivel up and die, leaving me barren and alone for the rest of my life.
“I want you to be happy, Bianca.”
I take out my frustration on the dish towel, crumpling it into a tiny ball. “I am happy, Ma. I have a good job, a nice home, and my own car. I don’t need a man.”
“You do what you want, honey!” my dad yells in the background.
Somehow, my mother still buys into the old-world thinking. A woman is nothing without a man by her side. It doesn’t matter how successful I am or how big my bank account is—in her eyes, I need a man. Thank God my father doesn’t think that way.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I smile, knowing my dad’s always got my back.
“Be quiet,” Ma tells him, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to pay for his comment later.
“Hush now, Ana. Bianca’s young. Let her live a little.”
“Don’t touch me,” Ma says with a small laugh. “Your charms won’t work on me.”
I gag a little because I know what charms she’s talking about. “I have to go. I’m late,” I say because I don’t want to listen to my father trying to woo my mom again.
“Late? It’s seven. Where are you going at this hour?” my mother asks.
“I have a date.” I stare down at my bare feet with their chipped toenail polish and leave out the most important information because she’ll go off the rails.
“Oh. Then I’ll let you run.” The happiness in her voice is clear as day. “Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went.”
“I will. I always do.” I lie every time too.
Six months ago, I made a promise to myself.
Stay celibate for one year. Clear my head and my life of all the assholes from my past. I’ve never had a good track record when it comes to men. I always seem to pick the biggest losers. Every single one of them has been a cheater, a liar, or a player.
I don’t have time for any of that bullshit in my life. Their inability to be genuine and keep their dicks in their pants affected my work, and nothing will keep me from my goals.
I haven’t told my mother I’ve been avoiding men for months, trying to keep my head clear to finish writing my current book. She’d go bananas if she knew; therefore, I lie to her because it’s easier than explaining my reasoning to her.
“Wear the red dress,” she says, still trying to run my life. “And bring him to the party because I’d hate for you to come alone.”
“Bye, Ma.” I tap the end button before she can say anything else. Sometimes, talking to my mother is like running a mental marathon. It’s exhausting going over the same topics again and again.
I practically throw myself on the couch after I turn on the television, waiting for my streaming app to start.
Over the winter, I started bingeing every television series I could get my hands on.
It helped fill the nights and settle my mind after a long day typing away at the keyboard.
Winter bled into summer, and I couldn’t seem to find the energy to go out at night with my friends and hit the club scene.
I was over nightlife and men, preferring my couch and television.
Richard, the hero and total hottie in my newest obsession, is about to bed the woman he’s been chasing for a year. I’m glued to the screen, holding my breath and waiting for the moment when their lips finally touch. I can feel the tension the closer their mouths are to each other’s.
Knock. Knock.
I groan and drop my head. Even though I’ve watched two seasons in the last week, I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for them to kiss. Whoever is here, they’d better have a damn good reason for picking this moment to knock on my door.
Without thinking, I run to the door and swing it open like a woman possessed because, damn it, they’re interrupting my favorite show.
I’m met with the greenest eyes belonging to my sexy new neighbor. The same guy I’ve been avoiding at all costs because he’s so good-looking, I know he’s nothing but trouble.
“Hey.” He smirks.
The flush that crept up my chest the other day when I met him is now a full-on burn. The man is gorgeous. There’s no denying that. I’m pretty sure, by the way he acts, he knows it too.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Vinnie.”
“I remember.” I try to keep my eyes on his face, but it’s almost impossible since he’s shirtless. The man’s body is unreal. He must spend endless hours in the gym, lifting and squatting, to sculpt his muscles to such perfection.
His focus dips, and mine follows to my workout bra and yoga pants. Although I’m dressed, I feel more naked than he actually is.
He reaches back, rubbing his neck. “I was wondering if you’d do me…”
I don’t really know what he says next because I’m too busy watching the way his biceps flex as he runs his hand back and forth across his skin and thinking about how I’d very much like to do him.
The movement puts me in a trance. A sexless, I-haven’t-been-fucked-in-six-months kind of rapture.
When I finally look at his face again, he’s staring at me with that sexy I-know-you’re-checking-me-out smirk.
I blink because I’m pretty sure my mind heard something completely different from what came out of his mouth. “Excuse me?”
“Would you do that favor for me? I’d owe you big-time. I’ll repay you any way I can.”
I push the hair that’s fallen out of my messy bun away from my face, suddenly feeling like I’m standing in the desert with no shelter from the blazing sun. “What favor?”
He drops his hand to his side, and with the way he’s standing and the overhead lighting of the hallway, he looks more like a statue created for some museum display of the perfect male form. “I know we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”
I cringe, knowing I was an asshole. “I’m sorry about that. I was having a bad day and didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay. I have those too sometimes.”
He’s sweet, which immediately puts me on edge because there’s no way this hot-as-fuck guy could actually be nice.
“I know I’m reaching with asking you this, and you don’t owe me anything, so feel free to tell me to fuck off, but my career may be on the line.”
I grab on to the door handle, using it to keep me upright. Between the tension on the television and now the hotness at my door, my body feels more alive than it has in months. “What do you need again?”
I want to slap myself. Hard. He’s been at my door for under a minute, and I already sound like the world’s biggest idiot. I’m having trouble keeping up with the conversation, and I wonder what he’s thinking about me.
His hand goes back to his neck, and my eyes fly to his muscle. I can do this. I can pay attention and not gawk at the way his skin moves like it’s begging for me to reach out and run my fingers over the silky smoothness.
“I was wondering if you’d go out with me for a night. No strings attached.”
My eyes snap to his face, but I’m at a loss for words as he continues.
“I’m in a jam at work and wanted to know if you’d accompany me to a business dinner. You’d be saving me big-time. I’ll pay you back, of course.”
I jerk my head back as what he’s asking washes over me. “You want me to go on a date with you?”
“It’s a very public party. I promise to be a complete gentleman and keep my hands to myself.”
“Oh. Well, I…” I don’t know what to say, actually. That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.
Then it hits me. I can hear my mother’s voice playing on repeat in my head, nagging me about finding myself a man.
My parents’ anniversary party is coming up, and the entire family will be there.
If I show up alone, I’ll never hear the end of how sad it is that little Bianca can’t find herself a man.
We’ll swap. It’s a perfect idea. I’ll do this favor for him and go to his work dinner, but he has to accompany me to the anniversary party.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, but I can’t believe the words are coming out of my mouth. “I’ll go with you, but only if you go to a party with me.”
His eyes light up, stealing my breath with that damn smile. “Of course. Anything you want. I’m your man.” His smirk gets bigger and I almost die, but somehow, I get through my next statement.