Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
OLIVE
It’s been five days since I delivered my letter to Rita.
Five days since I bumped into the man who has single-handedly rekindled my muse.
After weeks of no words, they are flowing like magic.
It’s a wonderful feeling… every morning I wake up craving the feel of the keys under my fingers.
It’s been a good distraction for my anxiety of awaiting a response to my letter.
To say I’m anxious is an understatement.
It took me ten tries and countless hours to draft my letter.
The whole process seems so romantic until you sit down to write a letter to a stranger.
It was a lot harder than I expected. The letter is my first impression and, as they say, first impressions are everything.
What if I completely blew it?
“Quit stressing,” Zoe says from the other side of the couch. We’re watching Friends reruns and eating cheap tacos… a typical Tuesday night for us.
“I’m not stressing.”
“Puh-lease. If you stress any harder, you’ll give yourself a coronary.”
I let out a little grunt as I take a big bite of taco, doing my best to ignore my best friend and her total correctness. I toss the taco back to its wrapper. “I’m just nervous. My letter was dumb. I basically told the dude I want marriage and babies.”
Zoe rolls her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. That’s the whole point. Isn’t it? You’re finding true love or whatever.”
I let out a sigh and collapse back against the couch, pulling a throw pillow over my face. “I just don’t know.” My words are muffled as I express my doubts for the first time.
Zoe yanks the pillow from my face and gives me a curious look. If I weren’t so upset, I would be laughing at the way she turns her head like a confused dog. “Is this about that guy you met? What’s his name…” she snaps her fingers as she tries to remember. “Harrison?”
“What? No!”
Yes.
Yes, it’s totally Harrison. I can’t get him out of my mind. I’m dreaming of his green-gold eyes and how they ate me up. That perfect jaw of his and the way his suit can’t hide his muscular build.
Yeah, I can’t get the man out of my head. It doesn’t help that he’s single-handedly gotten me out of my writing slump. It seems all I needed was a good muse, and Harrison James is the perfect man for the job.
Not to mention the steamy dreams I’ve been plagued with.
Which wouldn’t usually be a problem. I mean, what red-blooded woman doesn’t want to have sex dreams about someone as hot as Harrison?
But it is a problem because I shouldn’t be lusting after a man when I’m about to be matched with someone who is supposed to be perfect for me.
That evil voice inside my mind speaks up for the millionth time. What if I don’t want perfect? What if I want tall, dark, and arrogant?
Ugh.
“It is him!” Zoe screeches, slapping my arm playfully. “How hot is this guy?”
“So freakin’ hot,” I admit. Honestly, hot isn’t the right word to describe him. He’s an Adonis among men. He’s a wet dream… or five. Literally. A wet dream—I know because I’ve had them.
“He must be for you to be so conflicted about this whole matchmaker thing.” She gives me a sympathetic look that turns into a Cheshire cat grin. “Maybe you should contact Rita and tell her you aren’t ready to be matched? Or that you’ve found someone else.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll go over well. ‘Hey, Rita, I know you found me my soulmate and all, but I’m lusting over your arrogant nephew and would like to give him a try first.’”
Zoe frowns, her dark eyes telling me that’s exactly what I should do.
“Why not?” she asks. “You’re not engaged to this anonymous letter writer.
Who, I might add, hasn’t responded after five whole days.
What’s that about anyway? Are you really going to pass up a chance with Mister Hottie for a person who hasn’t even replied yet? ”
“I don’t know what I should do…”
I hate feeling so conflicted. This was supposed to be cut and dry. Write a letter. Meet my match. Fall in love. Not write a letter, bump into a hot guy I can’t stop thinking about, and question everything. I grab the pillow away from Zoe and bury my face in it again.
My bottom lip has gotten a lot of abuse since my phone call with Rita yesterday…
apparently, my letter got misplaced. She asked me to write my match a second letter.
She apologized profusely about the mistake and obviously feels terrible.
It was a major dilemma. On the one hand, I could just decline writing a second letter and make up an excuse so that I could somehow find Harrison and see if he’s as interested in me as I am him.
On the other hand, I want a relationship with a man who I could have a future with.
After a lot of back and forth and a few glasses of wine, I ended up writing a second letter. Going for an almost guaranteed sure thing seems like the way to go.
Safe.
So why am I crossing my fingers and toes that I run into Harrison again? But that’s impossible. From what I can tell, they meet for lunch on Thursdays, and this is Wednesday. I’m actually disappointed, and I feel guilty about it. Here I am writing letters to one man and lusting after another.
The elevator doors slide open, and disappointment floods me when there’s no hard chest to bump into. Rita’s assistant gives me another bored smile and tells me Rita will be with me in just a moment. Her office door opens, and Rita steps out. She gives me a kind smile and ushers me into her office.
“Thank you so much for coming, Olive. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the inconvenience.”
I return her smile despite my doubts. “I’ll be honest… I almost didn’t write a second letter. Maybe it’s fate that my original letter got lost,” I admit my worries while holding a death grip on the new letter.
Rita’s brow furrows. “Oh no! That’s not it at all. Just a silly old lady’s careless mistake, I assure you.”
I clench my bottom lip between my teeth, desperate to not spill out everything. Something about this woman makes me want to confess. “I just-”
“What is it, darling? You can tell me anything. There’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
My shoulders sink, and I lower my eyes, unable to look at the sweet woman who has found me a perfect man. I’m ready to throw that all away over some spark with a random stranger. “I sort of… well… I met someone. Briefly,” I add.
Rita’s brows raise in shock. “That’s wonderful!”
I give her a confused look because she looks genuinely happy for me. Why would she be happy that I’m interested in someone other than the man she’s matched me with?
“Tell me all about him,” Rita says with a sly look on her face.
So weird.
“It’s kind of awkward—”
She throws her head back and laughs a full belly laugh. “Oh, dear, nothing you say can be awkward with me. Trust me on that one. I’ve heard it all and then some.”
“You see… I sort of bumped into,” I wince a little at my next words, “your nephew, Harrison.”
That sly look is back on her face, and her eyes are alight with mischief. “Handsome man, isn’t he?”
My cheeks heat with a blush. “He is.”
“I didn’t know you two had become acquainted other than my introducing you…”
I bury my head in my hands. “That’s the awkward part. I can’t get him out of my head even after just bumping into him.” Tears well up in my eyes out of nowhere. “I can’t possibly let you match me while I’m thinking about another man. It’s horrible. I’m horrible.”
Rita moves out from around her desk and sits beside me, her hand falling comfortingly on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Olive. Really. You’re allowed to find someone attractive.”
“Someone I don’t even know? Someone who is probably not even interested in me?”
She snorts. “What red-blooded man wouldn’t be interested in a gorgeous woman like you? If my nephew doesn’t see it, he’s a fool.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s going to magically get my information and pop up to ask me out. And lord only knows I’m too shy to approach him… even if I knew how.”
Rita’s lips tilt up in an almost devilish smile, her eyes alight with the same mischief from earlier. “Well… I might just be able to help with that one.”
There’s a loud knock on her door, and I jump, startled. Rita crosses the room and opens her door. Harrison marches straight into the room, stopping short when he sees me. His eyes flash, and for a moment, I think it’s with annoyance, but then they darken with what can only be described as desire.
Ho-boy. Is it possible he’s as attracted to me as I am to him? Am I why he’s here? Surely not. That’s just preposterous.
“Come on in,” Rita says sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m busy with a client.”
Harrison looks abash. “Sorry,” he apologizes. I get the feeling he doesn’t apologize often. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” His eyes don’t leave me as he speaks. He’s entirely focused on me. It’s only then I realize I probably look like a mess.
I swipe my fingers under my eyes, trying to make sure no errant tears are lingering. Though, I’m sure my eyes are glassy and bloodshot. I’m not a pretty crier. I stand from my seat and look between Rita and Harrison.
Yes, I’m about to make my escape. Quickly.
I realize now that it’s one thing to daydream about a man like Harrison; it’s another to be in front of him.
There is no way I will ever have the courage to ask him out.
He’s out of my league. He’s expensive suits and high-powered jobs.
Probably corporate takeovers and board meetings.
I’m yoga pants and unwashed hair while toiling away in front of my computer writing fictional stories about men like him falling for girls like me.
Impossible.
“It was so good to see you again, Rita. Thank you for the… opportunity.” I circle past Harrison and head straight toward the door Rita is still holding open. She stops me in my tracks with one outstretched hand.
“Are you forgetting something, dear?”
I look down at the letter I’m clutching. I don’t even think; I just hand the letter to her and scoot past her. I take a deep breath as soon as I’m safe in the elevator, silently cursing myself for making a fool of myself.