Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Geraldine looks interested. “Maybe. Who is he?”
“My father. He’s a young sixty-five. My mother died a year ago, and I think you two would hit it off.”
Geraldine’s face falls. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Marnie.”
“Thank you.”
She shifts her weight. “I’m honored you consider me worthy of your wonderful father, but I think maybe a year is too soon. Has he been dating?”
“Not yet. I think he’d consider it if he met the right person.”
Geraldine smiles kindly. “I’m not sure it works that way, honey. I think he needs to be ready and then the right person will find him.”
My heart sinks. “Yeah, that makes sense.” I twist my mouth. “Do I have your permission to mention you to him, and if he seems interested, give him your number?”
Geraldine considers it. “Yes, but only if he says he truly feels ready. There’s no rush when it comes to finding love. It happens exactly when it’s meant to.”
Unexpected emotion rises up inside me. God, I miss my mother. That’s exactly the kind of thing she would have said. At fifty-three, Geraldine isn’t old enough to be my mother, but she’s got robust maternal energy—the same earthy, non-judgmental, free-spirited vibe as my wonderful mom.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll take your advice to heart, not only for my father, but for myself.”
Geraldine hugs me. “Will I see you at yoga class on Monday?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I might have a job that day.” It’s a lie. I have no job on Monday; my attempts to drum up business since Ripley came along and Mom died have been abysmal, at best. Also, the way-too-expensive three-month membership I got at that inconvenient, fancy yoga studio across town, solely for networking purposes, expired today. But I’ve already embarrassed myself enough tonight in front of this kind woman. I’m not willing to bare yet another fact to her that makes me look like an even bigger loser. After hugging her again, I say, “I’d better catch up with my friends. If I don’t see you at class on Monday, let’s try to meet up for coffee.”
“I’d love that.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. “Now, don’t get too down about Mr. BDE. You’re an intelligent, drop-dead gorgeous woman with a lot to offer. He didn’t deserve you.”
My heart skips a beat. “Thanks, Geraldine. You’re amazing.”
“So are you.”
With a little wave, Geraldine heads toward her car across the street, so I start walking down the sidewalk toward Captain’s. As I walk, I place a call to my father, so I can wish my beating heart outside my body, my greatest love, the best thing that’s ever happened to me—my beloved daughter, Ripley—goodnight and sweet dreams before her fast-approaching bedtime.
2
MAX
As I make my way on foot from my office building to Captain’s a few blocks away, I contemplate removing my tie. I had to leave straight from work to make it on time for my last-minute meet-up with Grayson for drinks, and I didn’t happen to have a casual change of clothes at the office today.
Nah. I drop my hand. Whenever I’m dressed in a full suit and tie at a bar, I tend to attract women in their thirties and forties—the ones I’d strongly prefer attracting. Older women are confident. They go after what and who they want, no holds barred. Oftentimes, they’re busy with careers, friends, and maybe even a kid or two. They’ve been burned in the past, and now, they’re expressly looking for nothing but fun. In other words, it’s older women, by far, who always seem to be the best bet for a guy like me.
I didn’t become the top biller at the best law firm in Seattle for the past five years by prioritizing my personal life over work. I’ve arrived at this juncture in my career—at the very precipice of achieving my long-term professional goals—by becoming an unstoppable, infallible, indisputable machine—a patent-and-business-law-dispensing juggernaut. Once I’ve made partner at my firm, and then, hopefully, landed that coveted assignment with a certain tech client’s core team, I’ll probably take my foot off the gas a bit at work and start looking around for a steady girlfriend. Maybe even a wife. But that’s not on my radar screen yet. Not till I’ve achieved my long-term career goals. And in the meantime, I’ll do what any thirty-year-old with a high sex drive would do: I’ll have some fun whenever I can find the time. I’ll hook up with women who’ve got extremely full lives without me. Women with no time or desire for a serious relationship. That way, nobody gets hurt. Everybody has fun. It’s a win-win, every time.
I reach Captain’s and step inside, where I’m immediately blasted with high levels of noise and activity. I scan the packed room and easily spot my nerdy work buddy, Grayson, by the bar, looking like he’s contemplating elbowing his way to the bartender. Grayson’s not a pushy dude by nature, which works well for him in the IT department of my law firm, but on the flip side, his go-with-the-flow attitude isn’t going to get him close to the bartender in a crowded, chaotic hotspot like Captain’s.