Chapter Five
“I believe you’ve been waiting for me?”
“Excuse me?” Olivia glanced up from her attack on the page, neck craning to see a broad figure standing before her.
Wide palms and long fingers holding the back of the chair adjacent to her were linked to strong, taut, muscular arms leading up to wide-set shoulders. Her mouth opened and closed as she took in the firm chest clad in a crisp white shirt and brown jacket.
Olivia could tell from her seat he had to be at least six feet two. Her eyes continued to make their way down the man’s body, taking in the strong thighs clad in dark-washed jeans before trailing back up to his head of dark wavy hair and piercing brown eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m late; I had another engagement. I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he said, and gosh, Olivia felt a ping in her lower stomach at the low baritone.
Pulling out the same chair nine others had sat on that night, he sat down.
The old navy seat seemed more fitting for him than it had for the others.
His broad frame filled it in an almost regal manner.
The soft-cushioned frame swallowed his shoulders; however, he still sat with a perfectly relaxed posture.
Olivia frowned, staring down at the list of struck out names before her. James, Reuben, Jett, Brad, Mario, Regan…
Was she expecting someone? She was sure her evening was due to draw to an end, the long list of names teetering off into thin blue lines and empty paper.
“Uh…” Olivia was baffled. She glanced at the list once more before confirming that she had, in fact, not forgotten another date. She simply did not have another one planned. “I think you’ve got the wrong—”
“I’m at the right table.” He said with a confident smirk.
Theo had considered leaving after his third whiskey, but after she had caught his eye, he knew he was staying.
Despite his friend’s tempting offer of bar hopping down the street to the Royal Oak, he had declined, instead noting the compelling way she had leaned back in her chair and let out snorting laughter at a man wearing a terrible red button shirt.
He couldn’t help but be fascinated by the small green book and the names she had crossed out within. He was intrigued. He wanted to know what she was up to.
“You are at the right table?” she asked sceptically.
Theo leaned back and stared at Olivia with unfeigned interest. Up close she was a sight to see, bright blue eyes staring back at his with sparks of passion and curiosity that matched his own.
There was no denying the woman before him was beautiful.
Now that he was sitting before her, he could see the light freckles that were scattered over the bridge of her nose, and the smooth, plump curve of her cupid’s bow, forcing his eyes to take in the deep pink flush of her lips.
This woman, he swore, could bring any man to his knees with a mere glance.
Theo was going to find out what was written in that book, and what this woman was doing speed dating on a Saturday night, when it was apparent from the lustful glances of the other men in the room that she didn’t need to do so.
If she just looked up, she would see that the last thing she had to do was to search for men. They were right there.
“Most definitely,” he said.
“Okay,” she humoured him. “Name?”
“Theo.” He gave his most disarming smile. “Now, tell me – what’s in the book.”
She pulled the notebook towards her chest, suddenly protective. “It’s confidential.”
Theo quirked an eyebrow, hoping it made him look attractive, charming. His eyes beamed with curiosity, telling her he wasn’t going to let up. He was determined.
“Listen, you’re attractive,” she started. “I get it. You’ve got that whole ‘I’m the guy you’d take home to your parents, but they’d hate me if they found out what I’m like in the bedroom’ look.”
He grinned, two dimples finding a home on his stubbled cheeks and tipped his head down at her suggestive words.
Theo was more captivated by her than she knew.
For the past hour, he had waited for an opening, wanting to be one of the men she talked to and flirted with, laughing at their terrible jokes.
He had watched her gulp back her wine like it was water and glance towards the exit as though placing her own personal hex on each date that stormed out with a huff.
She had waited a few minutes each time until the door had swung shut, and the men had left with their dignity in shreds, before reapplying her dangerous red lipstick and placing that damn green book back in her bag. Oh, how fascinated he was by that bloody A5 notepad.
Theo felt the corners of his lips curl up as she called him attractive and watched as her polished nails clutched the book, applying pressure and fidgeting with the elastic strap.
“But,” she continued, “you’re not what I’m looking for. You’re not who… Naomi is looking for.”
“Naomi?” Theo was caught off guard. So, this was not for her. Maybe a sister, friend, oh god – her mother? She was going on dates to find someone suitable for someone else. She was either incredibly loyal or incredibly stupid.
What perplexed him, however, was why had she dressed up. Who would lather on a seductive red lip lipstick and squeeze into a little black dress to find a suit or for someone else? “Who is Naomi?”
“My main character,” she stated.
Theo felt his eyebrows pull together in question. Her eyes flickered across his face, before she let out a small sigh and brought her gaze away from his jawline and back to his eyes.
“So, you’re a writer?” he asked after a moment of consideration.
“Yes.” She blinked. “And… and you are not what I… I mean, what she is looking for.” She spoke with such determination. Such intelligence.
“Enlighten me.” Theo leaned forward, his curiosity through the roof. “What is she looking for?”
She was stumped. The whole point of this evening was to shine a spotlight on the answer to that very question.
However, after the long record of bad dates, she was reluctant, but not too prideful to admit it had been a failure.
Instead of receiving clarity about what she wanted, she found herself stuck further in the grey zone.
More dark corners were lurking, and she had many, many more questions.
She still had no idea what she was looking for.
With this admission at the forefront of her mind, she felt doubt and fear creep in once again.
How stupid was this idea? How silly was it for her to have gone ahead with such an evening?
Her best friend was amazing and incredible, but this time Olivia was starting to think she had been wrong.
At this rate, she was never going to meet her deadline for the manuscript, and her leading man would remain unwritten. She felt the same numbness begin to make her fingers jolt with pins and needles, the heaviness in her heart growing with her doubt.
“I-I … don’t know,” Olivia admitted. Slumping back in her seat, she let her guard down for the first time that night, kicking off her heels underneath the table and slapping the notebook alongside the crumb-covered side plate.
Theo eyed her. Her shoulders had slumped, her eyes felt heavy. It had been a long night. She grabbed a breadstick and bit the end off irritably.
In a brave voice, he asked, “May I?”
She paused nibbling and stared at him. What’s his prerogative? She allowed her eyes to drift down, following the small and hesitant gesture of his left hand towards the book that lay between them. Blinking, she shoved the bonded paper across the crisp tablecloth towards his awaiting fingers.
What had she got to lose? All her dignity had already been thrown out the window that night. Surely a stranger reading her notes wouldn’t damage her self-esteem much more than date number eight had.
The man made haste, flipping through the pages, eyes hungrily scanning what she knew was her barely legible writing.
Silence seemed to settle between them; the only sound was him running his finger down the page, caressing it slightly, before using his pointer finger to flick the page over.
Olivia swore she had never been so turned on at this simple movement.
Who knew sifting through the pages of a book could be an art of seduction?
Finishing off the breadstick, she licked her butter-covered fingers and reached for the remainder of her wine.
“Jett…” He suddenly spoke, making her pause in her pursuit of alcohol, if only for a moment.
“Karate kid wannabe. Kept interrupting me.” Reaching a hand up, he dragged his long, limber fingers through his dark waves, messing up his hair in an irritatingly perfect manner.
She couldn’t help but follow the small, almost unconscious gesture.
Coughing under her breath, Olivia crossed her legs under the table and pulled the hem of her dress down.
Her cheeks were flushed much more than they were supposed to be, and if he had the audacity to ask why, she would have no problem blaming the wine instead of her raging hormones.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she had not had sex in over a year, or how she had not even entertained the idea of diving back into the dating pool since him.
“Reuben…” Theo continued. “Asked to see my feet… Mario, was too much of a video game weirdo. Called me a bitch.” He paused, remembering the red shirt who had cursed as he left the restaurant. Clenching his jaw, he moved on quickly, trying not to focus on how nice it would’ve been to punch him.
“Dan… bad breath… Richard, dick.” Theo glanced up at the woman in front of him, his eyebrow lifted in question. She gave him a knowing glance that made him quirk the side of his mouth.
“He was a dick. Rude and self-centred. I took inspiration for the insult from his name, so what?” She shrugged, leaning forward and flashing Theo a small strip of creamy skin. He looked away, which she found endearing.
“Kian,” he continued. “Made a comment about how many breadsticks I have eaten.” Theo glanced up, this time glancing between the near-empty wicker basket on the table and the gorgeous woman before him. “How many?” he asked.
She sighed again, lifting her glass, “Not enough to soak up the two bottles of red I’ve consumed.”
Theo laughed. “Fair. I’m sure I’d be the same if I’d had your evening.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, “I’ll help you,” he stated finally, still holding the notebook.
“What?” Olivia spluttered.
“I’ll help you,” Theo repeated as if it was simple. “You want a leading man, well, here I am.” Reaching over the table, he grabbed her pen and wrote his name at the bottom of the list, before passing the book back to her with a snap of the elastic. “When do you need him?”
“Uh.” Olivia was stunned. This stranger… who was he, and why was he willing to help her?
“I’m assuming you have a deadline to meet of some kind?”
Despite the questions circulating her brain, she answered him almost immediately. “By the end of June.”
“Two months.” Theo pondered the timeframe for a moment before speaking once again. “Okay, that’s possible. We can do that.”
We.
He said ‘we’, as though they were going to work together. That by the end of June, she would have her leading man.
“I’m free most evenings, except for every second Sunday.” He reached over and grabbed himself a breadstick.
“You’re going to help me?” Olivia stuttered, placing her glass down at the table. Suddenly she felt sober. As if she hadn’t just drunk two bottles of Pinot and started a Merlot 2023. She couldn’t help the surprise she felt.
“I’m going to help you,” he confirmed. “If you want me to.”
Olivia continued to stare at this man who had willingly added his name to her notebook of questionable men. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
He reached out a strong hand, veins prominent and disappearing underneath the sleeve of his jacket. She could only imagine what his forearms looked like. Placing her sweaty palm in his, she hated how firm his grip was, and how her own small hand was oh-so perfectly engulfed by his.
“Well, you know my name.” He smiled, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth, two dimples on either side of his cheeks. He raised an eyebrow enquiringly. “And you are?”
She felt red heat travel up from her chest and settle in her cheeks. “Olivia.”
His smile widened, before she felt him give her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Olivia.”
Her eyes had travelled down and zoomed in on his plush lips, noting the way they curled, and how his tongue clicked and moved as he said the word pleasure.
“See,” he continued, their hands still joined. “Now we’re not strangers.”
Narrowing her eyes with curious excitement, she thought, who is this man? Before asking, “And what if it doesn’t work? What if it gets to June, and I still have no leading man?”
“You will.” He shrugged confidently.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Look, you’re in control. If you’re not happy, you get to do what you’ve done to every poor bugger who has been fortunate enough to hear you laugh, smile and simply be in your company tonight.
” He let go of her hand and picked up the notebook once more, before placing it between her fingers.
“You get to take your pen and strike out my name. No clauses, no questions, no explanations. At any moment.”
“What’s in it for you?” Olivia considered. “How do you benefit from this?”
He dragged his hand through his hair one more time, before looking intently at Olivia.
“My sister’s getting married in June. Small ceremony, but she’s been bugging me about finding a plus-one.
If this works, and I help you find your leading man, then all I ask is for you to take a night off and watch two sickeningly in love people get hitched in Ireland with me. ”
He sounded in earnest, and for some reason Olivia trusted he wasn’t going to lie to her. To add weight to his story, he took his phone out of his pocket and showed her the sheer volume of messages from his sister and mother asking if he had found someone yet.
“I’ve got to tell them next week who I’m bringing and frankly I’ve been putting it off. But if you said yes…”
She was aware of the pit growing in her stomach over how transactional this interaction was but knowing he was open to such a ludicrous idea without expecting romance in return gave her immediate ethical relief.
And he said she could cancel the arrangement at any time, right? She’s in control.
With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Theo lifted his whiskey towards her. “So,” he asked. “Do we have a deal?”