“Hey!” I barge right in, the bell above the door ringing and the sweet scent of cakes and cookies in the air. Krys looks up from behind the counter with a smile.
“Well, well, well…look who it is.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” I step behind the counter and pick up an apron. I sometimes help her ice cupcakes and sugar cookies. It’s a great stress reliever. “So, I haven’t told you this yet, because I didn’t think it’d be a real thing, but there’s this guy I met on the Match Me app. We’ve been talking for about a week and a half and now he wants to meet in person.”
“Holy shit! You’ve been talking to someone? What did I tell you? I bet you’re loving it, aren’t you?” She smirks, places the whisk down, and points a finger at my face. I playfully slap her hand away with a laugh.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to meet him yet, Krys. I mean, our conversations are really good. I feel like I am getting to know him, but what if he takes one look at me and scratches me off of whatever list he has me on?”
“If he does, then fuck that guy! There are plenty more fish in the sea. Don’t get hung up on the first guy you meet, Hannah. Let me see him,” she demands, sticking her hand out.
I take my phone out of my pocket and unlock it, then go to the my messages to show her the selfies he sent me throughout the week. When she takes each photo in, her eyes grow bigger and rounder. “Oh, wow. He is fucking hot!”
“Right? What the hell does he want me for? It’s obviously just for sex, right? I mean, maybe he has this fetish for plus size girls, uses them, and then moves onto the next.”
“What? Hannah, no! It’s not like you have to jump right into the sack with the guy. Just meet him somewhere public, get to know him in person. Trust me, you’ll know if all he wants is the kitty cat or if he wants more,” she says, picking up her whisk again.
I break out in a laugh as she hands my phone back to me. “Do you think I should do this?”
“I think you should.” She shrugs. “Just give it a try. What’s the harm in a free meal—wait, he is paying right? Because there are some broke jackasses out there who won’t pay and will make you dine and ditch. Trust me, I know.”
“Yeah, I think he’s paying. And you’re just saying all of this because of our bet. You know if this fails, you’ll owe me so many dinners and desserts, right?”
“Oh, trust me. I know,” she chimes, smiling way too hard for her own good. I lift my phone up and look at the photo of Richie on the screen.
He’s so good-looking. So nice. All of our conversations are so fulfilling and not empty at all. I do wonder what it would be like to talk to him in person—if he’ll flirt with me the same way he does via messages and if he can sweet-talk the same.
I can’t keep wondering forever though…
Screw it.
Me: No need for 24 hours. I’ll be happy to meet you for dinner.
I smile at the screen of my phone, despite the nervous flutters deep in my belly. I hope meeting him is worth it.
FIVE
Hannah
I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous.
I step out of my car, smoothing out my red pencil skirt and then adjusting the silk of my blouse. I’m wearing a pair of heels I borrowed from Krys and I know by the end of the night my feet will be killing me, but for tonight they are necessary.
I’m standing in front of the restaurant Richie told me to meet him at and I have to say, I am stunned. It’s called Bellevue’s and it’s one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. I figure this must be a mistake, but as I check in with the hostess to let her know I am with a “Mr. Chamberlain” (as Richie instructed me to say when I arrived), the hostess smiles with glee.
“Oh, you must be Hannah! Mr. Chamberlain is right this way,” the hostess sings, spinning around and leading the way through the restaurant.
She smiles over her shoulder, leading me past table tops swathed in white table cloths. Men and women are seated in expensive clothing and jewelry, and across the restaurant, facing the wide-open window and giving a stunning ocean view is a slightly over-crowded bar.
Before I know it, the hostess has stopped in front of a sliding glass door. She pushes it open and walks right in, and this part of the restaurant is completely different from the one I just walked through.
It’s much quieter and more romantic. The lights are dim, the tables in the center are bigger, and there are booths with seats made of black leather. On top of the tables are candles in glass cases. A private bar is against the wall across the room. There are less people in this section, which leads me to believe this is an exclusive part of the restaurant.
The hostess continues walking until she meets up to a man who is standing in a suit, his back to us and, his cellphone pressed to his ear. He’s talking lowly in a smooth, deep voice.
“Mr. Chamberlain? Miss Norris has arrived,” the hostess murmurs.
In an instant, the man turns around and as he does, I gasp, because holy shit, it’s him. Just like the images, he has beautiful blue eyes and his blond hair is just as I remember from the photos. It’s a little longer at the crown now, but it suits him. So I wasn’t being catfished. That’s good to know.
“Richie?” I say, still flabbergasted.
Richie smiles, flashing pearly white teeth at me before looking at the hostess. “Thank you for bringing her to me, Adele.”
Adele nods and walks off, and as she goes, Richie’s eyes are on me again.
“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes roaming my body. I fidget because I did not expect this. I thought surely the angles of his pictures made him look better than what he may have looked like in real life—we all have our angles—but no. I realize it wasn’t filters or editing. This man is a god. Tall, well dressed, and handsome as hell. A strong, chiseled jaw and that same perfect dimple in his chin. “Hannah, you are stunning.”
“I—I uh…I didn’t…” My words become lodged in my throat. Look at him. He’s perfect. I stand no chance with this man.
He gestures to the booth beside us. “Would you like to sit?”
“Um, sure. Yeah.” I slide into the booth as Richie takes the opposite side. Our booth is window-side and reveals the ocean, along with a beautiful sunset.
There is a moment of awkward silence between us as I settle into my seat, fixing my blouse and then my hair. I’m so glad I dressed up like he told me to—formal, that is. I was two seconds away from choosing a sundress and sandals for tonight to feel more comfortable.
Our eyes finally connect and Richie smiles. I smile too, and then I giggle, and he chuckles. “Sorry, I’m just…I mean, this is not what I expected at all,” I confess, pressing a hand to my chest.
“No?” He smirks. “What did you expect then?”
“Well, for starters, I wasn’t expecting to meet here. This place is a fortune, you know.”
He shrugs, continuing a smirk. “I can afford it.”
“And I guess I didn’t expect you to look as hot as your pictures.” I realize I sound like an idiot, so I look away and clear my throat.