PROLOGUE （UNEDITED） #2
What I didn’t expect was that he and his wife were setting me up with one of her friends.
I doubt Bijou is the one for me. Is that even a real name?
She tried to help me pronounce it ten times, and I still couldn’t do it.
She then wrote it out for me, which only confused me more.
Then she wrote it phonetically, which made it worse because it’s bee-zhoo.
With the buzz of the party now dulled to a bearable level, I plop down on one of the oversized lounge chairs overlooking the expansive country club grounds as I run my fingers through my brown hair, which has officially begun to go a bit gray.
How did I get here? A divorced forty-seven-year-old man with an adult daughter who barely speaks to him and a teenage son with major codependency issues since his sister abandoned him and his parents divorced.
Lying back on the chair, I replay every bad decision I’ve made in my life.
It’s too many to count, but the biggest was marrying Ginny.
A one-night stand that lasted twenty years because she got pregnant with Kennedy that first night.
It’s been twenty-six years since the night that changed my life.
I don’t regret it because it gave me Kennedy, but spending my life with the wrong woman will forever be at the top of my list of regrets.
I’m wallowing in misery when a bright blue blur flies by me. A small blonde woman reaches the end of the balcony and screams into the night, “Ahhh!”
I can’t help but let out a laugh. I think I’d like to do the same thing.
She turns around wide-eyed while clutching her chest and gasping. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”
Wow, she’s beautiful. Why couldn’t Beeezooojooo look like this woman? She’s familiar though. Maybe I’ve met her before.
I wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You just eloquently expressed exactly how I feel about being at this party.”
She smiles, and it’s a thing of beauty. “Worst. Party. Ever.”
I nod in agreement and point to the lounge chair next to me. “Want to hide out here with me while we commiserate?” I hold up a bottle of wine. “I grabbed this from the bar. It happens to be a decent bottle.”
She bites her plush, red lower lip as if in contemplation. I have a sudden desire to bite that lip too.
Wow, where did that come from?
“Umm, okay. If you don’t mind. I need to chill out for a few minutes, so I don’t murder my friends.”
“We’re in the same boat. Take a seat. You can have the wine glass. I haven’t used it yet.” I only brought one out here with me, assuming I’d be alone.
She walks toward the chair, and I get a whiff of her perfume as she passes by. She smells good. It’s feminine and classy.
She plops down in the exact same way I did a few minutes ago, before looking at me. “It’s Jett, right?”
I nod as I pour and then hand her the glass of wine. “Unfortunately. I’m sorry if we’ve met before. Can you remind me of your name?”
She gives me a small wave. “It’s Fallon. Don’t worry about it. You’re the famous one. We briefly met in passing about seven or eight years ago when I was still married. My ex-husband is Tanner Montgomery.”
I nod in understanding. Tanner is a well-known and well-respected sports agent. He represents several of the players on my team. “I apologize. I was going through a rough patch at the time. Those years are a bit of a blur for me. And, frankly, I’m old and tend to forget a lot of shit.”
She smiles again as she sips the wine, and I get the same physical reaction as I did the last time she smiled. I have a sudden need to make her smile as much as possible.
“It’s part of getting older, I guess,” she agrees. “Why are you so miserable tonight, Jett?”
“Because I was asked to attend under the guise of fundraising for the Children’s Hospital, but it turns out I was unknowingly being set up on a date. I don’t know why my friends think it’s their mission in life to find me a woman.”
Her eyebrows pinch in confusion. “I didn’t realize you had gotten divorced.”
“Yep. It’s been a few years now. We’ve kept it quiet for our kids’ sake.”
She nods in understanding. “Your daughter is a professional basketball player, right?”
My shoulders straighten with pride. “She sure is.”
“I went to a few of her games this year. She’s an…exciting player.”
I chuckle. “Exciting is a nice way to put it.” Kennedy is a bruiser on the court. She’s got a bit of a reputation for being overly physical, but I love the way she plays. She’s fierce and unapologetic for it.
“Honestly,” Fallon says, “she’s my daughter’s favorite player. She wears Kennedy’s jersey to every game.”
“Really?” My heart swells with pride.
She nods. “Yep. She loves how tough Kennedy is.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me. How old is your daughter?”
“Harper is eight.”
I exhale a long breath. “Ahh, that’s when they’re so young and innocent.” I’d say sweet too, but Kennedy was never that sweet. She’s a bit more sour, though I suppose I’m partly to blame for that.
“She’s a ball of fire and my greatest accomplishment in life,” she beams. Her love and affection for Harper are written all over her face. It’s endearing.
“I have no doubt.” I nod toward the balcony. “Why are you out here screaming into the night, Fallon?”
The corners of her mouth raise slightly.
“For the same reason as you. Overstepping friends. They think it’s their mission in life to find me a man.
They sat at our table and registered me for a dating app.
They downloaded it to my phone and then decided to fill out my profile for me.
All without asking if I had any interest in online dating.
” She holds up what appears to be an iPhone.
“They took it right out of my hands and started telling strange men online what I’m looking for in a man. ”
I let out a laugh. “Okay, you win. Your friends are worse than mine.”
She grins in satisfaction. “Yep.” She sips the wine again as she looks at her phone.
“Apparently, I enjoy long walks in the park and want someone to do that with. That’s my ideal day.
What I do for fun.” She rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I went for a long walk in the park. You know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because it’s not something I actually enjoy. It sounds boring as shit.”
I chuckle. “If I were on a dating app and had to write what I do for fun, it would be sitting in my boxers watching sports. Do you think that would attract many women?” I ask cheekily.
She giggles. “Mine would be sitting in my granny panties, watching reality TV while eating a pint of ice cream.”
“Maybe we’d get matched up then,” I pull my flip phone out of my pocket, “but there are no dating apps on this sucker.”
She spits in laughter. “Oh my god, Jett, that’s not really your phone, is it?”
“Sure is. If it ain’t broke, why fix it?
I can’t use those new phones. There are no buttons.
What do you press? I don’t understand it.
And I see all these people with their heads buried in their phones all the time.
They’re missing life by looking at a screen.
My son can’t make it through a meal without being on his phone and taking goofy photos of himself sticking his tongue out like an idiot.
Nope,” I shake my head, “that will never be me.”
She smiles. “You’re refreshingly unaffected, Jett.”
“Some would say old school, or just plain old and out of date.”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s…nice. Trust me, I would know.”
Hit with a wave of curiosity, I ask, “Can I see what else they wrote about you?”
She nods as she hands me her phone. I reach for my eyeglasses in my breast pocket and place them on my face. She watches me intently, but I shrug. “Like I said, I’m old. I can’t read anything without these.”
She runs her lower lip through her teeth as she stares at my face. “They suit you.”
We share a heated glance before I look down at her phone and see that her screen is a photo of her daughter. “She’s beautiful,” I tell her honestly.
“Thank you.”
“She looks just like you. Two gorgeous women.”
Her cheeks flush a bright shade of red. She’s too cute. And naturally sexy. She doesn’t try to be sexy like most women. She just is sexy. And it’s all natural.
I hold up the phone and admit, “I don’t know how to work this.”
She giggles as she stands. “Scootch over. I’ll help you.”
I happily shift over in my chair, a little too excited about her sitting so close to me. She removes her shoes and settles in next to me. It’s a good thing she’s small because I’m a big man, and if she were any larger, we wouldn’t fit.
The sides of our bodies are pressed together in the tight confines, and mine lights up in a way it hasn’t in years. Despite the warmth of the late summer night, I see goosebumps spread across her chest. She feels it too.
Taking the phone from me, our fingers brush, and I swear I feel an electric current. Her sharp intake of air tells me she felt it too.
She hands me her glass of wine. “Hold this. Feel free to drink from it. I don’t care.”
The thought of my lips touching the spot where hers just did sends an unexpected thrill through my body. I take a sip and let the fruity taste of the unusually good Riesling easily slide down my throat. I’m not much of a Riesling fan, but this was the best bottle I could find at the bar.
She does a few swiping, weird movements with her fingers, and before I know it, there are photos of her with words under them.
She sighs. “Excuse the photos. My friends chose them.”
I point to one of her in scrubs without an ounce of makeup on and with messy hair. “I like this one.”
She scrunches her face. “You do? It’s so plain.”
I nod. “Men want to see what women really look like. Not some over-made version of them. You’re a naturally beautiful woman. You don’t need fancy clothes or makeup.” Pointing to the scrubs, I ask, “Are you a doctor?”