“I’m not goin’,” I say.
“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” I slip the card back into the envelope and tuck it back into the card holder sticking out of the bouquet.
“You’re no fun,” April grumbles. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna wake up one day old and lonely with no great adventures to talk about.”
She would absolutely go on a blind date without a care. She’d be tickled if she had a secret admirer.
Me? I don’t have time for games. If someone wants to ask me out, they should just ask. Face to face. This stuff actually annoys me. I’m busy. Ridiculously. I have neither the desire nor time for guessing games.
Okay, and I’m also a little cranky right now.
I need a shower and some sleep. It was a busy night and tomorrow might be my day off, but I have errands and I’m down to my granny panties so I need to spend the day doing laundry, paying bills, and then hitting the rec centre to help at dinner time.
That centre means a lot to me. They provide services to the homeless, the disabled, and the lonely. Meals. Mental health support. Showers. Day programs for the elderly and for overwhelmed caregivers who benefit from having a place to go with their special needs kids or elderly loved ones. It’s a place where they can get a cup of coffee, a change of scenery, and some moral support. It’s a place where the needy are given care, compassion, and more. The centre needs all the volunteer hours I can give them. I feel like I never give them enough.
“You’re gonna swing by Bistro Bleu to see who it is, though, right?”
“I don’t play these games, April. You know me better than that.”
“Yeah, I do know you. Where’s your sense of adventure, Tina? What if the man of your dreams is sitting at that table?”
April is a romantic. I’ve known her since the eighth grade, and she will still be a romantic when she’s a grandmother. I’m too pragmatic for silly stuff like this. If I’m going out with someone, I wanna know who they are and what their motives are. Sending bouquets three days in a row? Expensive roses—what, because my last name is Rose? Eyeroll-worthy. Trying to get me to go to a swanky restaurant without knowing who I’m meeting? No way.
“The man of my dreams? Ha; funny. More like creepy stalker of my nightmares.” I wave my hand dismissively and head down the hall.
“Maybe I’ll go check him out,” she offers.
“Don’t you dare,” I say before I close the bathroom door.
I haven’t dated anybody in a while. But anyone who knows me knows I’m a no-nonsense girl. Anyone who doesn’t know me probably wouldn’t get that I’m a busy girl with barely enough time to pee, never mind date. I’m always being told to live a little, that I’m too serious.
Either this person will go away, or they’ll step out of the shadows and name themselves so I can tell them they should go away.
Hunter
A month ago, I almost died. And maybe I was asking for it. I’ve been taking too many chances lately. I’ve never played it safe. But this time? My recklessness brought me a wake-up call.
The crash into that guard rail finally knocked some sense into me.
I’m not invincible. And maybe I’m ready for more substance in my life.
That saying about your life flashing before your eyes? That didn’t happen to me.
Instead of seeing my life for what I’ve seen and done and who’s been in it, I saw the life I could have. I saw gorgeous blue eyes, dark curls, and heard a sweet, calming voice that asked me my name and told me I was gonna have to dig deep and hold on, because I was too young to cash in my chips. That I had so much more life to live.
I listened, and then, in that weird place between here and the white light, I saw her face. It was her face I saw beside me. I saw her face on little kids that I knew were my kids. I saw happiness. I saw ball games and ice cream sundaes, and I saw her twirling with me through a life with laughter, adventure, and hot sex. Insanely hot sex. Her voice kept me alive.
Her words. Her blue eyes. Her actions with the machines that beeped and squeezed.
My father later told me I’d flatlined in the ambulance.
I almost died and she brought me back. But for a minute, there in the place between here and the white light, a place covered with a filter that was the same shade as her blue eyes, I was actually happy. Happy at what might be if I had that girl as mine.
I know she was with me in the back of that ambulance. I know she’s the one who brought me back.
I almost died.
But I didn’t.
Somewhere between the white light and the ambulance I saw what I’d miss if I gave in.
And now it’s time to make changes in my life and get the beauty I saw. Claim what I want.
After spending a month recovering from the crash, I’m ready for it. Going back to the life I had before the accident isn’t an option.
That life is filled with money, fast cars, fast women, and hedonism. But, though I’m only twenty-nine, I’ve had enough of that shit to last more than a lifetime. Two or three lifetimes. I’ve sown my wild oats all over the place. It’s a jungle of wild oats. It’s time to plant actual roots.
I looked into the paramedic that saved my life.
I needed to see where this could go. I needed to know if the happy I never had but saw shaded with blue could happen with Christina Rose.
Tonight, I wait at Bistro Bleu.
I’m sure she saves a lot of lives. I’m also sure it’s recent enough that she’ll remember me. I’m told I’m pretty memorable.
I arrive half an hour early and take the liberty of ordering.
And…
She doesn’t show up.
I knock on the door, the black bag with the braided twine handles—containing not only our salads and our entrees, but also the desserts I pre-ordered in hand.
The door opens and I’m looking at a cute redhead whose jaw drops. She’s got her phone to her ear and a handbag slung over her shoulder, obviously on her way out.
“One sec, Fay. Hi there,” she greets me while simultaneously talking into her phone.
“Well hello.” I give her my signature melt-the-panties smile. This is the smile that gets me past barriers that aren’t already down due to my name. “Is Christina here, by chance?”
“Did you send the three dozen roses?” she whispers, a bright light in her eyes.
I put my finger to my lips. “Shh.”
She pinches in front of her lips, turning an imaginary lock.
“You’re Tina’s secret admirer. Holy shit. Fay, Tina’s secret admirer is Hunter Collins! Yep, that Hunter Collins.”
I hear a squeal through the phone.
So much for the lock and key this girl just drew two seconds ago.
“I’m April. Come in. Tina’s in her room. I’ll get her.”
People know me around here because of my father. My rich and famous self-made reality TV wealth guru father. A multi-page spread in a local lifestyle magazine a few years ago got me on an It list, and not only does it mean I never wait in line but also that I’m frequently the subject of the local rags. I’ve earned a rep as an eligible bachelor slash playboy. April gives me another once-over before speaking into her phone. “Call you back. I’m leaving in two minutes. Just gotta see Teeny’s face first. Right? I know! Bye!”