Chapter 9 Liza
LIZA
Pink or red? Such a simple decision, yet all I could do was stare at the two bottles of nail polish as if they were cake and cookies ... an impossible decision.
I didn’t have much time before my date with Ty, and I wanted to look my best. Being a caterer, I always kept my nails trimmed short. They were neatly manicured but plain. Tonight, I wanted some color.
Scratching my head, I finally decided on pink. Red screamed look at me, I want all of the attention, and that was not the impression I wanted to make.
I was never the girl who wanted to be first picked for teams in PE, and I certainly wasn’t the girl who wanted to stand on a stage and pretend to enjoy receiving praise for one talent or another. I was content to let everyone believe I was relatively talentless.
I’d also never considered myself to be beautiful, especially compared to high-society heiresses like Cecily Banks. Those women had more money than they knew what to do with, so they had the latest fashions, perfect makeup, and the most expensive perfumes.
I had none of those things. I only had a few nice dresses and a single pair of black heels I’d had for years. Sometimes, especially recently, I borrowed Sabrina’s clothes.
My hair was usually pulled away from my face in some sort of a messy bun, and I deliberately kept my makeup minimal.
Even the perfume I wore was something I’d received for Christmas from my parents, which had undoubtedly been purchased at a local department store. I wasn’t a signature scent kind of gal.
I didn’t need any of that, though. Ty accepted me just as I was. So far, at least.
My hands trembled as I tried to paint the pink polish carefully onto each nail. Between work and the whole fated-mate debacle, my nerves were frayed.
I took a deep, cleansing breath to try clear my mind. I needed to relax and shake the anxiety, and not set any formal expectations about the date.
Sure, I wanted everything to go smoothly.
I wanted Ty and me to fall madly in love.
But that type of idealistic, insta-love, cookie-cutter match might not be in the cards.
Fated didn’t necessarily mean it would be a one hundred percent done deal.
In all my years and all the mating ceremonies I’d seen and heard about, I had only heard of a few instances of rejections, but it wasn’t unheard of.
A cold chill raced down my back as I imagined Ty deciding I wasn’t the mate he’d always imagined. I teetered on the edge between being hopeful for the date to go well and praying that I didn’t have to face the humiliation that came with that type of rejection.
No. Don’t think like that. I capped the nail polish and stepped back to admire my work. The pink hue seemed brighter than usual, but it was a good kind of bright. The sort that matched my mood for the night.
Tonight was about possibilities, not endings. It was about taking a leap of faith and putting trust in something that went beyond the physical realm. Fate had matched us. Who was I to question our compatibility?
I stepped into my small walk-in closet and perused my options, finally settling on one of my nicest sun dresses.
I wasn’t poor and didn’t grow up poor. Granted, I didn’t grow up with a lavish life like others in our corner of Texas, but my parents could afford nice things.
I certainly wasn’t a pauper or anyone who would embarrass the good Keller name.
My dad’s position as an attorney afforded us the opportunity to take family vacations and for me to be involved in multiple activities growing up.
I hated to think about how much money my parents had spent on costumes, art supplies, sports equipment, books, and other various items needed for my clubs and teams.
Now, with my career as a caterer, I made enough to provide myself with a happy life. I could splurge from time to time, pay my bills, and still put a little back into savings. I wasn’t rich, but I was content.
Nice clothes and expensive makeup weren’t top priority for me, though since fate decided to pair me with a guy who could’ve been a model, I’d been considering updating my wardrobe.
If Ty and I pursued one another, this would be the first of many dates, and I’d never wanted to impress someone as badly as I did Ty.
I took a final glance in the mirror. Not too shabby. My hair was braided across the front and curled at the back, and my makeup was a tad heavier than usual, but not so much that I looked fake, rather just enough to accentuate my wide eyes.
With my pale skin, it was so easy to overdo it with blush and bronzer. I’d learned that the hard way in high school when I first tried to wear makeup. The other kids had laughed me out of the cafeteria, calling me a clown and other nasty names.
I shook off the memories and grabbed my purse, keys, and phone.
The park was only a short drive from my cottage, so I arrived within five minutes.
My heart pounded about ten times harder than usual. My hands were sweaty and kind of gross, so I wiped them on the front of my skirt as I glanced around the parking lot. I didn’t see any other cars in the area and assumed Ty must’ve been running late. Didn’t that figure.
I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my phone. Maybe Ty had tried to call or text.
Nope. Nothing.
I looked back at our texts to confirm that I had the correct time. Then I told myself to calm down. This didn’t have to be a bad sign. Some people ran late.
I opened the door for some fresh air. Just because he was running behind didn’t mean I had to stay in my stuffy car, so I slowly made my way to the gazebo.
As soon as I saw the setup, I smiled and slapped my hand to my mouth.
Ty had already been there. The perimeter of the gazebo was lined with candles. At the center, a large blanket was laid perfectly square on the wood floor. He had painstakingly thought of every detail, even cloth napkins folded like rosebuds.
I turned to see if he had arrived, but the parking lot was still empty.
Lowering myself onto the blanket, I took a closer look at the spread.
A bottle of champagne was chilling in a silver bucket filled with ice.
It was probably real silver too. A platter of chocolate-covered strawberries and an assortment of cheeses sat in the center of the blanket.
Ty had spared no expense, ignored not a single detail.
This was the whole nine yards of the promised picnic.
Better than I could have imagined. Everything was perfect.
He had clearly gone above and beyond, maybe because he was used to above and beyond, or maybe he’d been trying to impress me. Not surprisingly. If it was about showing off and impressing me, it worked.
I waited a few minutes before I looked around again. As more time passed, my smile slowly faded. I checked my phone over and over again, but Ty hadn’t called or texted.
What the hell was going on? Fuck. If this was his way of letting me down easily, it sucked, and if he’d suddenly changed his mind, the least he could fucking do was make a call.
Why the fuck would he take the time to set everything up and then just vanish without a trace and leave me hanging without any form of communication? Bastard.
I was completely baffled. And pissed as hell.
By the time thirty minutes turned into forty, and forty into fifty, I no longer had even the most remote sense of excitement for the date.
Now I was just embarrassed and more than a little irate.
The jerk hadn’t bothered to call or text, and he certainly hadn’t shown up.
He’d just left me out in the cold—might have been a slight exaggeration—dark park with a basket full of food.
My anger won the day as I texted Ty.
Where are you? I’ve been waiting for almost an hour.
I wanted to say more, but I kept a tight rein on my emotions.
The streetlights had kicked on, and I watched people walking the nearby trails, pointing and whispering behind their hands as if I wasn’t a fucking wolf. I could hear every word they said.
One woman turned to her husband. “That’s the waitress who matched with Ty Keller. He must’ve stood her up. Poor thing. She never stood a chance.”
“Screw this.” I stood and attempted to unwrap my foot from the blanket’s edge. Snatching the champagne out of the ice bucket, I walked at full speed back to the safety of my car. I might as well get something out of this supposed date.
I glanced at my phone one last time as if Ty would magically decide to contact me. He probably never would at this point.
Instead of texting him again, I sent one to Sabrina.
Grab some orange juice and get your ass over to my place for some expensive mimosas.
Fifteen minutes later, Sabrina burst into my house carrying a gallon container of orange juice. “What the hell happened? Why aren’t you on your date?”
I was upside down with my back against the seat of the sofa, my head hanging off the edge, and my feet dangling over the backrest.
I lifted my head from the edge of the couch where it had been since I got home. The blood rushed back to its rightful position, and I squinted to see Sabrina through the floating dots in my eyes. “He never showed.”
“What?” She moved to the couch and plopped down next to me. “Did he call or text you?”
I sat upright and shook my head. “Nope. Not a single fucking peep. He had, however, set everything up. There were candles, chocolate strawberries, cheese, everything you could imagine. Except Ty. He was nowhere to be found.”
I grabbed the bottle of champagne from my coffee table, and Sabrina followed me to the kitchen.
“Let me get this straight. He set everything up, left, and never contacted you.” Sabrina stared at me with wide eyes. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree, but he never replied to my text.” I poured the orange juice into champagne flutes and added a hefty amount of champagne. “Guess today wasn’t the day for me.”
Sabrina clinked her glass against mine. “I wouldn’t say that. You learned something at least.”