by Lila Kane
The view is picturesque, and suddenly I’m wondering why I don’t have anyone to share it with.
Sure, I could call Monica or Stephanie. One of them often joins me at functions and dinners. I have fun with them. But lately…I want more. I don’t want one-night stands.
But more than that, I don’t want to explain to my partners, my friends, my family that I’m bringing Monica or Stephanie wherever I’m going, but we’re nothing more than friends. With benefits, of course, but still.
I need to start thinking like a businessman. It’ll look good to have the same woman on my arm at charity balls. The same woman with me when I attend weddings. The same one walking out of my building with me when I head to work.
It’ll look good for business and it’ll take off some of the personal pressure.
I pluck the flyer from the end table and read through it more thoroughly this time. I can’t tell who the woman is from this, only that she’s selling everything. A wedding venue, the cake, flowers—the honeymoon? Damn. What happened? Had she called off the wedding? Or maybe this has nothing to do with her at all and she’s just helping a friend.
But a woman who’d sell her wedding dress is clearly bitter about something. Probably an asshole fiancé who chickened out at the last minute.
I’m curious about the situation, but even more curious about the woman. She’s included a number at the bottom of the flyer. Nothing is stopping me from calling it.
Worst case scenario, I ask her to coffee or have lunch with a sexy woman. Can’t hurt.
I ignore the advice I’m sure Derek would be giving me right now and dial the number, hoping the woman from yesterday answers.
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