by Nella Tyler
“Yes, and I told you no,” Briella said. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call security.”
I understood that this looked extremely creepy and began to wonder if I had any reason to be here at all. Who did I think I was, entitled to time with a woman this beautiful? I had no right to invade her personal space and badger her for a date. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, this is… this isn’t like me. I don’t…” I shook my head. “You’re very lovely, and I just got excited.”
Her friend elbowed her harshly, and Briella shot her a glare.
“You just thought you’d hunt down my hotel room?” Briella asked me.
“I… yes.” I had no excuse. “Sort of. I didn’t get your number, and I wanted to ask you one more time.” I felt strangely vulnerable standing here. And I was quite taken with how down-to-earth Briella was. Instead of getting swept up in the moment, she was hesitant to trust a stranger at her door.
Was it odd to admire that when it was myself who was the stranger at her door?
“I believe you,” Briella said finally. “Or, I don’t think you’re a creep. You’re kind of a dork. That’s what I gathered from yesterday, anyway.”
I couldn’t help the blush that rose to my cheeks, and I cleared my throat. Once upon a time, I’d been suave, confident, maybe even sexy. Now I felt like a fish, floundering and hoping to get thrown back into the sea. “Thank you.”
This brought a smile to her face. “Don’t you have a job? It’s a weekday.”
“I have the week off,” I told her. “Perks.”
“I see.” Briella leaned against the doorframe. I tried not to be distracted by the curves of her body and the tilt of her head. “I’ll give you a second chance, Dexter. Showing up at my hotel room was definitely a strike, even if you are cute.”
She thought I was cute. I nodded. “I understand. Does that mean you’ll come to dinner?”
Her friend, still standing at the door, grinned. “She’ll be ready at 6.”
Briella rolled her eyes. “Nina!”
Nina grabbed a pen from behind her ear and my arm, scrawling some numbers on it. “This is our room number. Call instead of showing up next time. She’ll see you at 6.”
The door closed, and I grinned ear to ear, resisting the urge to jump up and down out of sheer excitement that my risk-taking had paid off and not horrendously backfired. I had a number, although maybe not her cell. And something told me that this date was going to be much better than the one I’d been on the night before.
Chapter 8
Briella
When Nina closed the door, I thought that I might kill her. I’d had the entire thing under control. This guy had shown up at my hotel room, as though that were acceptable, and then Nina had signed me up on a date with him instead of calling security, telling him no, or doing anything else that a good friend might do in that situation.
She threw her hands up when she saw that I was glaring at her. “Hey! Don’t get mad at me. I just got you a date.”
“I didn’t want a date!” I exploded. “I talked to this guy for like 20 minutes last night, and he comes up to my hotel room, and you set me up on a date?” I didn’t understand how she didn’t have the urge to call the police.
“Oh, please. He’s less than harmless. You saw him flustering like a middle- schooler. He probably just didn’t think about how awkward it would be. It’s not like you gave him your number when you talked to him and then didn’t tell me about it.” Nina frowned.
I rolled my eyes. “You really want to know what happened, don’t you?”
“Duh! I’m supposed to know! I’m your friend! How else am I going to do my job?” Nina shook my shoulders lightly and then broke away to laugh and sit down on the bed. “You hung out with an unbelievably hot guy, and you didn’t tell me. That’s honestly tantamount to ruining our friendship.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Right.” I started to go back to the bathroom to comb my hair, and she stopped me.
“No! You have to tell me,” Nina pleaded.
“Fine!” I turned around. “We talked for a little while. I went to the bar at this restaurant down the street and saw him in the VIP section, and you know, I was just looking, it wasn’t weird or anything. And then he came over and talked to me. We just talked about Galveston and Florida and vacationing and stuff. Nothing major.”
“VIP? Is he rich?” Nina’s eyes were like saucers. “Oh my God, you are so going on a date with him.”
“I could kill you,” I said. “I think he might be rich, but I could still kill you.”
“So, let me make sure I have all my facts straight,” Nina said. She held up a finger. “He’s rich.” A second. “He’s unbelievably hot.” A third. “And he’s absolutely adorable.”
I reached over and lifted a fourth finger on her hand. “And he’s a stalker.”
“Oh my God.” Nina rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking you to marry him, Bri. All I’m saying is that it can’t hurt to go on a date. It really can’t. Don’t you deserve to have a little fun? Why shouldn’t you flirt with him? If he wants to take you someplace nice, let him! We can go back to Houston in a week, no harm done, and you get free fun out of it.”
It was hard to argue with that. In fact, when I looked at this from the perspective of just looking for a little fun on vacation, I couldn’t see an issue with it. Maybe it was dangerous, but I’d be lying if I said that didn’t add to the appeal. I could go out if I wanted, for the first time in ages, with a really attractive man who liked me. I could have a little harmless fun and go home, no problem, without any consequences.
“You have to help me figure out what to wear,” I told Nina.
A few hours later, we ended up going shopping for a few things. I’d packed for vacation with a friend, not a date with a potential rich guy. When we got back, the room was strewn with shopping bags, and I tried on every possible combination of the two outfits we’d picked out.
“Do you think this is too much?” I stepped out of the bathroom my outfit of choice. It was a skirt, not too short but certainly not office appropriate; simple and black, and it hugged my curves. I chose a blouse with a slightly low V in the front and thick straps instead of sleeves. It looked just a bit too risqué for a business outfit, but not risqué enough to justify being called slutty.
“Damn! I forget you actually have a body sometimes when you wear all those T-shirts,” Nina said. She walked over to me and pulled my skirt down just a little, like used to do in high school before I went on dates. I’d seen her mom do it to her millions of times, usually saying afterward that she needed to go change.
“What the hell do I do with my hair?” I asked.
“You have no place to complain about your natural hair,” Nina scolded. I knew she was right. My hair cooperated; if Nina wanted to wear her hair naturally, it required a ton of work and coconut oil and gel and effort to keep it looking healthy and shiny. I insisted that it looked fantastic, and Nina always grumbled about what a pain it was.
I decided to put it in an updo that I’d learned on the internet not long ago. It made the ensemble just a bit classier. Paired with some heels I’d brought in case Nina and I were going to go clubbing, it honestly didn’t look too bad for something I’d thrown together at the last minute. I put on a little makeup, but didn’t feel the need to wear too much. He’d already seen me without it, after all, so it wasn’t like I needed to maintain the illusion that I always had flawless skin and fantastic eyeliner.
I put a pair of earrings in to finish everything off. “What are you going to do while I’m out?” I asked Nina.
“I’m going to find me a millionaire, too,” Nina called from the bathroom. “Or at least get drunk enough to think I’ve found a millionaire. Don’t worry about me, Bri. We’re both gonna live it up.”
I hoped she was right. It was finally 6 o’clock, and despite myself, I felt nervous. I hadn’t been on a proper date in ages. Jason hadn’t taken me out in at least a year before we broke up
, except the time that my dad took him with us to dinner a few months back. I pushed the thought of Jason out of my head.
The phone hadn’t gone off all day in our room. I worried that maybe Dexter had forgotten about me, or that I’d scared him off. Honestly, over the course of the day, I’d let myself get excited about this potential little vacation fling.
Before I could get too nervous, I heard a knock at the door, and when no one shouted ‘room service,’ I knew it had to be Dexter. I opened the door and nearly lost all my resolve.
He looked gorgeous. His hair was styled properly—not greasy, not slicked back, but actually styled, and I couldn’t get over how the dark color of his hair complimented his piercing green eyes. He wasn’t wearing a suit, which I was thankful for, because my outfit wasn’t formal, but he was wearing a nice button-down and a pair of slacks.
I noticed, for the first time, the broadness of his shoulders, and noticed for the second time his strong jawline. “Hey,” I said, and let myself smile.
“Hey.” Dexter’s eyes left mine as Nina walked out of the bathroom. “Hello,” he said, offering an almost fearful smile to my friend. He looked back to me, and his smile broadened, softened somehow. “You look lovely,” he told me.
“You don’t look so bad your damn self,” Nina murmured.
I rolled my eyes and promptly walked out of the room, closing the door behind me before she could say anything too horribly embarrassing. Dexter was laughing when I looked at him again, though. And damn it if Nina wasn’t right, if not a bit too out there. He did look good, and I couldn’t believe I was going on a date.
As if he could read my mind, he spoke up almost instantly about the oddness of our situation. “I’m really sorry about the incident earlier. Coming to your hotel room and all. It was really terrible etiquette,” he said.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard a person use the word ‘etiquette.’ It was charming. “I’ve forgiven it,” I said. “Mostly. If this date goes well, maybe I won’t call the cops.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“I was just nervous,” he explained as we went down the elevator. We didn’t talk for a few minutes as we shuffled in a crowd of people to get to the cab.
When we got to the cab, he said, “I was just nervous. You’re very approachable, and I just got a bit frightened.”
I wasn’t sure that I really bought that. “The woman you were with was beautiful, and you didn’t have a problem around her.”
“Well, I sort of did,” he said. “Just a different problem.”
When the taxi got to the restaurant, I thought about what Nina had said about getting a nice, free meal. This place was nice. It wasn’t anything over-the-top fancy, as I’d suspected from Dexter not wearing a suit, but it was definitely nicer than most chain restaurants that I liked to stop by. Nicer than the places that Jason had taken me to back when he’d taken me anywhere at all.
Dexter had called ahead and made reservations, which made my eyebrow go up. He’d been at least cocky enough to assume I wouldn’t flake on him, and while I expected that to put me off, it actually made me respect him a bit more. Any more floundering on his part and I would have started to see him as just a nervous weirdo.
When we got seated, he pulled my chair out for me and spoke politely to the waiter. We were brought waters, and then we allowed the conversation to continue.
“In any case, it won’t happen again, with the hotel room,” he said. “And if you’d still like to call the police, I’m perfectly fine with that.”
“Good to know.” I flashed him a grin. It was awfully irresponsible of me not to hold him accountable for his actions, but this was supposed to be a fun, risqué adventure. No consequences, no need to worry about doing the ‘right’ thing. In a week, I’d be gone. “But I would like to know more about you, if that’s all right.”
“Of course.” He seemed relieved, if not a bit in disbelief, that I’d forgiven the incident so easily.
“Where do you work?” It was a much less direct way of asking him whether or not he was wealthy. And it was a common first date question, so it wasn’t like I was being too terribly forward.
“I work at my father’s investment firm. Mason Investment,” he said.
I’d heard of that company, or more specifically, I’d seen commercials. If he really was the son of the founder of that company, then he had to be unreasonably wealthy. My eyes widened slightly and I dreaded the return question.
“What about you?” He asked.
“I plan weddings,” I said. I began to think back to my job and remembered how much I loved it, and I couldn’t be embarrassed, even by my modest wages and lack of an office space. “I actually meet clients at the library. It’s a fledgling business run from my tablet, but I really love it.”
“Do you meet interesting people doing that?”
“Oh my God, yes. A lot of relationships that seem doomed to fail. Those are the worst ones. If they can’t decide on a floral arrangement, they probably can’t decide on anything else.” I smiled, thinking of a particularly nasty couple I’d sat down with at the very beginning of my career.
“I’d imagine Houston’s a good place for that. It’s a big city and all.” Dexter pointed out.
“Yeah. I live downtown, so I’m right in the middle of it all, or at least that’s what it tends to feel like.” That wasn’t really entirely true. When I lived with Jason, I lived in downtown Houston. Now I lived with my dad in a more suburban area outside of Houston. For the purposes of this conversation, though, it wasn’t necessary to mention any of that.
I thought to turn the question around. “What about you? Anything crazy happen in the investment industry?”
“Jesus, no,” Dexter said. He smiled at me. “It’s arguably the most boring thing in the entire world. It’s important to the clients that come to us, of course, so it’s good to take it seriously. But I interact mostly with stuffy men with Ph.D.’s in accounting and mathematics.”
I cringed. “Yikes. I planned a wedding for a stripper and her wife once.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It was. They decided to have a courthouse wedding, save money for a huge reception, and instead of doing floral arrangements, they had six different cakes.” I shook my head, remembering the planning for that. It had been a ridiculous wedding, but never had I seen such a party.
“Do you have to go to all the weddings you plan?”
The night before, Dexter had surprised me by investing so much of the conversation in me. Tonight, it seemed to be much the same way. He looked genuinely interested in the things I said, and I couldn’t understand why. A millionaire from Florida couldn’t possibly give a shit about some wedding planner from downtown Houston. And yet, even when the waiter came to distract us with the menu and dinner, he kept his attention on me.
“I go to all of them,” I told him. “It’s honestly exhausting. And little harrowing. I’ve missed a few of them, but it’s rare that I miss them. I’ve been to what, 30 weddings?”
“Thirty?” Dexter balked. “I haven’t been to even 10 weddings in my entire life.”
“Really? Maybe it’s because I’m surrounded by it all the time that it doesn’t really seem like that much to me,” I said. Marriage and weddings had become the norm. It was part of why I’d been so flabbergasted with Jason and didn’t understand how he couldn’t marry me. People got married around me all the time.
“Maybe. But then, I don’t seek the company of investors in my free time,” he said.
I smiled and wondered whether he actually thought more or less of me now that he knew I wasn’t particularly wealthy. I decided to ask some more questions to see if he would, at any point, realize that I wasn’t the right match for him.
“Here’s another question. Where did you go to college?”
Dexter looked up at me as if I’d asked him a complicated math problem. “I went to a few colleges,” he explained. “I spent a little while in Harvard, and t
hen I transferred to a private college.”
“You went up north, then?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s actually where I found New York,” he said. “And how I decided I loved it so much. Honestly, the biggest downside to working here is that I’m here and not there.”
I smiled at the idea that anyone could work on a beautiful beach and hate it. The grass was always greener on the other side, I supposed, but that didn’t mean it made much sense to me. Still, it was charming to me, and I thought about it for a moment before he inevitably asked me the same question.
“You, where did you go to college?”
“State college in Texas,” I replied. “Graduated top of my class, and became a wedding planner.”
“What else would you do?”
“Actually, I could have gone into investment. I have a business degree.” I laughed a little at the idea that the situation could be that I was having dinner with my boss if I’d gotten a job at an investing firm. Most of the small branches in the south were Mason Investment branches.
“Investment firms could use more people like you,” he said. “It gets dreadful.”
Damn it, he was charming. He asked questions about me, he listened when I spoke, and he even laughed at the stupider jokes that I made. I felt like he understood me even though we hadn’t known each other for a long time. When the dinner finally started to wrap up, I found myself not wanting the date to end.
It did, though. He rode with me back to the hotel and walked me back up to my room. I wanted to see him again, even though I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
“Thank you for letting me take you out,” he said to me.
I shook my head and grinned. This idiot honestly thought that it was his pleasure to have dinner with a woman who hadn’t even seen more than 10,000 dollars in one place in her life. His fingertips brushed my wrist, and my heart fluttered.
In a stunningly fast sequence of events, several things happened. He drew much closer to me, and I to him. His hand held my wrist, and the other touched my waist tentatively, and I was unsure whether he kissed me or I kissed him. The moment that we did, though, my heart set on fire, and I pressed closer to him instead of backing away.
