by Frankie Love
CEREAL DATER
The Way To A Man’s Heart
Frankie Love
Contents
Cereal Dater
1. Landon
2. Lucky
3. Landon
4. Lucky
5. Landon
6. Lucky
7. Landon
8. Lucky
9. Landon
Epilogue
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About the Author
Copyright © 2021 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cereal Dater
The Way To A Man’s Heart
By Frankie Love
Meeting Lucky, a cute and curvy overworked woman, at Bowl & Spoon – her cereal café, is serendipity.
She needs a vacay and I need a fake girlfriend.
One weekend, no strings attached.
How could anything go wrong?
Dear Reader,
Landon is a rich and handsome man with plenty of options.
But he doesn’t want options.
He may have been a serial dater – but that was before he met Lucky.
Now, he wants more than a bowl of her cereal. He wants the whole box.
Chapter One
Landon
By the time that I make it out of the bar, I know that I’m never going to be calling her again.
I doubt that she’s going to be surprised. The woman I went out with tonight must have noticed that there was nothing in the way of chemistry between us.
We had managed to sit through one very awkward drink, and now that I’m out of the bar alone, I’m left wondering who the hell I’m supposed to take to my sister’s wedding. In Hawaii. Tomorrow.
Damn, I did not want to fly solo to this.
Because the hours are counting down, and I know if I don’t have a good excuse ready for my parents, they’re going to hit me with the girl they want to set me up with. They’d be hinting at it for weeks before my mother just came out and told me.
"I think we have a perfect match for you," she explained, with a broad smile on her face. "Our best friends’ daughter. She’s lovely. And she’d be a perfect fit for you. She’s coming to the wedding, you can meet her there..."
I know that it’s a threat more than it is an offer. And I need to have someone by my side to throw them off their game.
They think they can have their way, but they’re wrong. I’m not going to be stuck with the girl they’ve picked out for me. I doubt that they know what kind of woman I like.
Which is why I’ve been “dating” as hard as I have lately. Well, I don’t know if you could even call it dating, not really – I've just been going out with any and every woman that I can get my hands on, in the hopes that I can find one who will be happy to come to Maui with me.
But no such luck yet. Tonight is my – sixth? Seventh? I honestly can’t remember. All the dates have blurred into one inside my head, and I haven’t been able to come up with anything that sticks.
If I had a female best friend this would be easy, but I don’t. And there’s a shortage of single ladies around town. It’s like every guy at the CrossFit gym where I work out has gotten married this year leaving me with slim pickings.
And I’m sure this woman my parents have found is nice enough, but they are country club going, yacht club cruising, weekends at the San Juan Islands kind of people.
I may be their son, but the apple fell far from the tree. I need someone with more bite. Someone with more edge.
Someone who, apparently, doesn’t exist in this town at all.
My car is parked just around the corner, but I decide to walk home instead. Maybe some of the fresh air will help clear my mind. I can keep an eye out for any other bars that are open, duck in and see if there’s someone there for me to meet. I’ve been relying on dating apps lately, and they haven’t exactly brought me much luck.
It’s not like I have a lot of time to spend just wandering around bars, hoping for the best, hoping to find a girl who fits me. I have so much work to think about, I have to just scroll through apps in my spare time and hope that I find someone who looks interesting. I know it’s not the same as feeling that chemistry in person, but I don’t have time for that.
Running my real estate business, getting it to the point that I have, it’s taken time, energy. It’s why I’m still single now, if I’m honest with myself. Because no woman would want to stick herself with a guy who just obsesses over work when he should be obsessing over her.
When I meet a girl worth obsessing over, I’ll forget everything else that I’ve done up until that point. Happily. I’ll throw myself into her, just the same way that I’ve thrown myself into everything else that I’ve ever wanted in my life. When I meet her.
If she exists.
I’m starting to think she doesn’t.
All the women I’ve been out with over the last ten days or so, there’s nothing wrong with them. But there’s nothing right with them, either – nothing that makes my ears perk up, nothing that makes me want to uncover every little detail that I can about them, just to say that I know it.
That’s what I want, someone who fascinates me in a way deeper than anyone else ever has.
Not that my family knows much about real love. Even my sister Cassidy, for as much as she claims to like the man she’s getting married to, is only doing it because she knows that it will be a solid business tie to forge with another family.
My parents were the same way when they got married, and I am sure that this girl that they want to set me up with is meant to be nothing more than a chance for me to do my bit for the family and secure some business deal.
But maybe I have to lower my standards if I’m going to find a date for my sister’s wedding. If I don’t turn up with someone decent, then my parents are going to see it as open season for setting me up with the girl that they want for me.
I turn another corner and spot a café which is still open, even at this time of night – it's not a bar, I don’t think, but there are a handful of people outside, a couple of them smoking, all of them chatting. Hey, this looks like something. And right now, I will take anything I can get...
I head down the street towards the café, look up at the banner over the door – Bowl & Spoon. A little hipster-y joint, from everything that I can see. Hell, why not? I’ve tried everything else in this town, I might as well give this place a try, too.
I step inside, past a small crowd of people who are waiting in line for the counter, and look around – it's made up to seem like a kitschy little diner from back in the day, all bright red and checkerboard colors everywhere. It’s bustling with customers, even at this time of night, though there only seems to be one woman serving right now...
And I feel something in me freeze as I realize that the woman behind the counter is the most downright gorgeous thing that I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
I was looking for a spark, and I think I might get lucky after all.
Chapter Two
Lucky
Honey: You’re still open? Girl, you are going to fall on your face. It’s time for a day off. A night off too!!
I reread the text, knowing my best friend is right, but I have put my whole life savings into this place and I can’t let it fail.
Me: One day soon, I promise…
Honey: I can cover for you for a few nights. It’s what friends are for.
I know that Honey is right. I need to take more time off work. And she is the right person to help me out since she has been running her apple pie food truck for several years.
But how can I take time off when the place is so busy that I can’t catch a moment’s rest?
I put my phone back in my pocket, take a deep breath, and head back out to the counter to take the next set of orders. I keep that big smile on my face as I greet the woman waiting for me.
"Hey, how’s it going?" I ask her. She replies with a long string of sentences, and I have to stifle a yawn as she talks. Not because I think she’s boring, but because I need to spend at least three days in bed before I see anyone ever again.
When I opened this place three months ago, I had no idea that it was going to blow up the way that it did. Not that I’m complaining, trust me. I knew back then that opening a café that sold only cereal and drip coffee was going to be a huge risk, but I know it’s the kind of place that I would love for myself – no booze, no loud music, somewhere to hang out late at night that doesn’t revolve around alcohol or trying to get laid.
And it seems like I’m not the only one who wants a place like that in this town. It didn’t take long for word to spread about Bowl & Spoon, and soon, it was packed nearly every night – I haven’t had time to interview for staff yet, though I know that I need them, and so I’ve been stuck serving everyone who comes in here with my own fair hand.
As soon as things start to calm down, I’m going to hire someone else to come work here with me. I know I can afford it – well, I think I can. First I need to sit down and actually crunch the numbers and work out how much more I need to spend on fancy milk substitutes for the hipster crowd that comes in here. Honestly, my biggest fantasy right now is being able to take two consecutive nights off of work, and not have to worry about getting complaints from the people who have made this place their second home.
Because this place needs to succeed. I need it to work. It’s been my life ever since – well, ever since everything tipped on its head and changed earlier this year. I need all the distraction that I can get from that. I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers, even if it means working harder than I probably should.
I serve up my latest customer with a giant bowl of these fancy Froot Loop-esque things that I found in a Turkish food supply store across the county, and I smile at her until she is down in her booth with her friends. I am glad that this place has provided a spot for people like me, who were never that into the bar scene, to hang out. I just wish they would have taken a little more time to find it, you know? Give me a chance to handle the learning curve of dealing with huge lines of customers all at once...
"Hey."
I look up to see my next customer, and as soon as I do, I feel a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. It’s a guy. And a gorgeous one at that. I see plenty of well-groomed hipster types in here, but not many who have the aura that he does. He’s wearing just a tee and some jeans, but he looks like he could have walked off the front page of a modelling campaign. Muscular, strong, cropped hair to show off his handsome, sharp features. He smiles at me, and I manage to smile back.
"Hi," I greet him, trying to keep my voice perky. "What can I do for you?"
"I think I’d like a coffee," he replies, and he settles down onto one of the seats at the counter. The rest of the customers have already been dealt with, so I don’t mind him keeping me company. Honestly, the way that he is looking at me, it’s as though he wants more than just the drip coffee that I am about to give him.
"You run this place?" he asks me as I push the coffee over the counter towards him. I nod. I still can’t quite believe I can say that and mean it. I really run this place. It went from just an idea at the back of my mind to a full-blown business in a matter of months, and now, it’s all mine.
"Is it really just cereal and coffee?" he wonders aloud, and I nod again.
"That’s all we do," I reply, smiling at him. He laughs – for a moment, I think that he is laughing at me, but I see the warmth in his eyes and know he likes the idea as much as I do.
"Why?” he asks, still chuckling.
"Because this is somewhere I wanted to hang out, but it didn’t exist yet," I reply, with a shrug. "So I decided I would make sure that it did."
"How long have you been running it?”
"Three months," I reply. He whistles through his teeth.
"Doing pretty well for just being open for three months," he remarks, and I nod proudly. This place has taken off – and given everything that it represents for me, that matters.
"Yeah, word of mouth spreads quickly around here."
"So I see," he replies, and he takes a sip of his coffee and returns his gaze to me. There is something about the way that he looks at me, the way that his eyes meet mine, that makes it hard for me to think of anything else.
"And you do it all by yourself?"
"Hey, if you’re offering to hop the counter and give me some help, I’ve got a spare apron back here," I joke.
"I don’t think I’d be much good at that," he warns me. "You never get a break? It’s just you running this whole show?”
"A break?” I reply, snorting with laughter at the thought. "Last time I had a break, this place wasn’t even open yet. I haven’t been able to take any time off since then, been too busy making sure that it doesn’t go under."
"Sounds like you could use some time off," he remarks.
"You offering?” I shoot back as I go to dump some bowls into the sink.
"I might be," he replies, and when I look back to him, I can see something written on his face that sure as hell wasn’t there before.
Chapter Three
Landon
This girl – this girl is doing something to me that I didn’t even know was possible. I can’t take my eyes off of her. This is the chemistry that I’ve been looking for, in all the dates that I have been on up till now. Everything that I have been waiting for, it’s come down to this moment, and I don’t want to give up on it now that it’s right here in front of me.
With curly dark hair to match that curvy little body of hers, there’s no doubt that she’s hot. But someone with the nerve and the balls to open up a place like this, and run it themselves till they could get it off the ground? Yeah, that sounds like my kind of woman.
I need to know more about her. Everything about her.
And that’s exactly why I need to convince her to come to this destination wedding with me.
"What, you going to hire staff to cover for me for a couple of weeks?” She laughs, as she tucks a loose strand of hair back into her ponytail. "I like the offer, but–"
"I need a date to my sister’s wedding," I explain. "In Maui. Tomorrow."
She bursts out laughing, turns to me, eyebrows raised. I don’t laugh. I’m dead serious.
"Dude, what?” she asks. But I can see the flush to her cheeks, and I know that something about the proposition that I have just sent her way intrigues her.
"Maui," I repeat. "I need someone to come with me. I’ve been going on dates all week trying to find someone to take with me, and none of them have worked out."
"And what makes you think that I would?" she asks.
"Gut instinct," I reply. "I run a business. I know to trust what my intuition is telling me. So. You in?”
She eyes me for a moment, as though she is waiting for me to burst out laughing and tell her that this whole thing is nothing more than a joke on her – but I don’t. I cock my head to the side, raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head.
"I can’t leave the business," she protests. "I’d love to take a vacation, trust me, but I can’t just leave all of this behind. I don’t have any staff, and if I did I’d need to train them all before I left, anyway – it's just not something I can do right now."
"I’m sure I could help with all of that," I reply. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. There is something about the pressure of them on h
er full mouth that makes me want to lean across the counter and kiss her, to taste the sweetness of those full lips against mine, but I know that I have to let her set the pace.
"It’s just not my thing," she replies. "But you – you're a serial dater, huh?”
"Looking to become a cereal one," I reply, gesturing to the board full of fancy products that she sells. She groans, slaps a hand to her forehead, as though the pun is downright painful to her.
"I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming," she replies. "Oh, sorry, can you just...?”
She gestures for me to wait a second while she serves a new batch of customers who have just come in. Even though she must be exhausted from running this place, she is bright and perky with them, laughs at their jokes, cracks a few of her own. She’s got such a rapport with everyone here, and I know that she’s the woman I need to take to that wedding with me.
She lets me sit with her for the rest of the evening, and she chats to me about running this place – about opening it so that she could make somewhere for people who didn’t want to party all the time to come and relax, something that she would have sought out when she was a little younger. And, when the clock passes midnight, people start to clear out, and she sighs and plants her hands on her hips.
"I guess I should kick you out now," she tells me, a little reluctantly. "I’m meant to be closing up..."
"I can help," I offer her, and she stares at me for a moment.
"Really?”
"Really," I reply, and I get to my feet and come around her side of the counter. "So. Tell me what I need to do."
