Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Weston
Maybe tonight will be the night I finally find my person.
I rub my hands together as I sit in the dive bar booth, waiting for the speed dating event to start. Another event, another try, the same nervous energy I always pretend I don’t have.
I couldn’t convince my best friend to come along with me tonight. Apparently dragging him to the last four was his limit, but honestly, he’s a buzzkill anyway.
Parker hates love.
He also hates that I do this—thinks it makes me look desperate. He likes to point out that “normal people” don’t have a favorite speed dating host.
But me? I don’t want to be alone forever.
I mean, I’m thirty now. I’d like to start a family, and I don’t want to be an old dad … But considering I don’t even have a girlfriend, the odds aren’t exactly in my favor.
Which is why I’m here.
Again.
I take a sip of my drink and glance around. New faces. New names. New conversations I’ll try to make interesting. I’m good at these, actually. I usually leave with a few laughs, a couple compliments, and at least one phone number in my pocket.
Sometimes more.
The problem is, it never goes past the first or second date.
We’ll grab coffee, maybe drinks. They’ll smile, I’ll pay, we’ll hug outside. And then, something always fades—interest, chemistry, timing, I never know which. I just know that by the next week, the texts slow, the plans dissolve, and I’m right back here.
Waiting for the next round.
“All right, all right.” A voice comes over a loudspeaker. “Let’s get started. Who here wants to find love tonight?” the announcer booms, and the crowd at the bar claps for her, calling out funny comments.
I just stay quiet.
Not because I don’t want it—I do. I just … I’ve been to more of these events than I can count, and I’m starting to wonder if this is really how it happens.
But in a city like New York, where everyone’s busy and buried in their phones, I’m not sure what the better option is.
Online dating seems worse.
At least, here, people have to look me in the eye.
The announcer finishes up explaining the rules for the event, and how the women are going to be the ones table-jumping tonight.
I don’t complain about that and tell the waitress “thanks” as she drops off my score sheet.
It seems kind of shallow to score our dates based on a total of five minutes with them…
But whatever.
Maybe tonight’s the night I’ll experience love at first sight, if that even exists. The closest I’ve ever come to it is when I first saw Parker’s little sister, Brittany. She was only eighteen at the time, and I was twenty-one. She was a freshman in college, and I was a junior.
But, dang, was she pretty.
The prettiest woman I’d ever seen in my life.
But maybe that’s lust, not love.
“Hi,” a voice says across from me. “I’m Cheryl.”
I whip my head around to meet my first date, who I didn’t even realize had sat down. “Hey. I’m Weston. You can call me Wes.”
“Hello, Wes.” She giggles, flipping her jet-black hair over her shoulder. She has deep hazel eyes—the kind that reach into your soul and squeeze the emotions right out of you.
“Well, let’s see how much we can learn about each other in five minutes,” I joke, leaning back against the black faux leather and grabbing my drink. “Tell me, what would be your perfect date?”
She purses her lips together, taking a sip of her own champagne. “Well, I like five-star restaurants and prefer to travel for dates. I make it a point to travel out of the country at least once per month.”
“Wow,” I choke out, already picturing my bank account crying. “What do you do for work?”
“Oh.” She brushes me off. “I’m an influencer, but my ex-boyfriend got me hooked on destination dates. It’s a better backdrop for my content. He always made sure I had everything I needed. I still live with him, but we’re seeing other people.”
Well, that’s an interesting arrangement.
But I choose not to dig. “Being an influencer is cool. What’s your niche?”
She shrugs. “Mostly just clothes. Do you want to see?” Her face seems to light up at her own suggestion, so I nod, not wanting to dampen the mood.
“Of course.” I take a long draw of my Jack and Coke, as she slides her phone across the table for me to see.
And my eyes widen.
“Lingerie.” I nearly choke on the word as I divert my gaze, feeling as though I’ve stumbled across something I shouldn’t be looking at. “That’s interesting.”
She giggles. “It makes good money.”
And attracts some real creeps, probably. My stomach tightens at the thought of dating a lingerie influencer. The most my social media has on it is pictures of random sunsets…
The timer goes off, signaling the end of the date, and Cheryl vacates the booth. I quickly grab my paper and write a big NO next to her name.
I drum my fingers on the table in front of me, not so sure of myself at the moment.
I have plenty of confidence. I’m a successful software programmer, my best friend is my boss, and I have a nice townhouse on the Upper East Side.
My family is great, though they live across the country, in California.
“You look deep in thought.”
I look up to meet a pair of bright jade eyes, penetrating my steely blue ones. “Sorry, I was just trying to figure out why I have such a hard time finding a real connection.” I mean for it to come out in a flirty, joking way, but instead, I just sound pathetic.
“Hmm.” My next date takes a seat across from me. Her strawberry-blonde hair falls in careful waves, and her makeup is mostly natural, showing off the splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
She’s cute.
“I’m Weston,” I introduce myself, clearing my throat.
“Anna,” she answers, her red lips curling into a smile. “I take it your last date didn’t go so well?”
“No,” I admit, “But it was mostly the fact that I’m not … Um…” I don’t know how to explain myself, but Anna reaches across the table, laying her hand over mine.
“Cheryl is a lot.” Her voice softens. “She’s my best friend.”
“Oh.” I breathe out a sigh, trying to ignore the fact that Anna’s hand is a little clammy against mine. Not that it matters. A clammy hand is still a hand. She’s being nice and endearing right now.
And I’m being insanely awkward and overanalyzing everything.
Get a grip, Wes.
“So, what do you do for work?” I ask my typical question, already knowing that I probably sound like a broken record.
“Um, right now I work in hospitality. I’m the marketing director for a hotel,” she specifies. “It’s a very different job from Cheryl’s.” A blush creeps into her cheeks, and I smile.
“I think your job sounds really cool,” I assure her. “I bet it’s a lot of work to market hotels here in the city; there are so many of them.”
She nods. “Oh my gosh, yes. There’s literally so much competition. You’ve got to do a lot to stand out these days … Plus, you have to be affordable, but not too affordable, you know what I mean?”
“I do,” I say, surprisingly. “I took a few marketing classes in college, though I know that doesn’t amount to much. But I do stay in hotels sometimes, and I typically try to find one that’s, like, the middle range of niceness and price.”
“Exactly.” Anna beams. “You get me.”
“Totally.” My entire body feels light, and my worries start to dissipate. “I’d love to hear all about your marketing strategies. I actually work as a programmer, so while I don’t know much about marketing, I do help run the code to sell things.”
“Ah, so you’re a nerd, yeah?” Anna giggles, her nose crinkling. “That’s kind of cute. I like that.”
“Good, I’m glad.” I let out a chuckle, just as the timer goes off. My heart drops with disappointment, and I frown. “Man, I was hoping for more time.”
“Same,” she chimes, but slides out of the booth. “Maybe just write me down as a ‘yes’ and we can hang out later?” The hopeful look in her expression brings me relief.
“For sure,” I tell her. “I’ll definitely do that.”
She shoots me a little wink as she saunters off to the next table, and I won’t lie, I only think about Anna, even as the next four women pass through. Something about her has me wanting to ask her out on a real date.
As the event finishes up, and the big group of singles start to intermingle, I make my way to Anna, who is chatting with Cheryl. As I approach them, they both turn to me, opposing looks on their faces. Anna has a smile, and Cheryl looks like she might bite me.
And not in a good way.
“Hey,” I say, directing my attention to Anna. “I was wondering if you’d wanna grab a coffee sometime?”
Anna opens her mouth to say something, but Cheryl beats her to it. “She has a boyfriend, Wes. Don’t even waste your time.”
“Wait, what?” I feel confused, my eyes darting between the two of them. “This is a singles’ event. That makes no sense.”
Anna’s smile fades to a frown. “Well, if we’re being honest…”
My heart sinks at the way her voice trails off. “Uh-huh…”
She meets my gaze and lets out a sharp sigh.
“I do have a boyfriend. I came here tonight to do an experiment for my psychology class. I’m just trying to figure out the demographic of men who resort to events like this to find a significant other, and how it correlates to their choice of employment.
As it turns out, it seems like there’s a lot of men who work in tech that can’t find a partner. ”
I swallow hard, ignoring the way it feels like an insult. “I thought you worked in marketing.”
Cheryl laughs. “She works the front desk at a Hilton near the college.”
I purse my lips, feeling more like an idiot with every single passing moment. “So, you were playing me, is what you’re saying, right?”
Anna gives me a sheepish look. “I mean, when you put it that way—”
“Wow, okay.” I blow out a sharp breath, shaking my head. “Yeah, this is a waste of my time.” I spin on my heels and head straight for the door, not even thinking twice about the women behind me, giggling.
They must think I’m some pathetic nerd who can’t get a girlfriend to save my life.