Chapter Seven

NOELY

“There you are!” Dylan says, flopping down in the makeup chair next to me. She hands me a paper cup full of coffee and takes a sip from her own cup, which I know is half coffee, half chocolate milk. She can’t stand the bitter taste of coffee but is a beast without the caffeine. So I introduced her to chocolate milk in her coffee, and it seems what works for me works for her. I also like to put hot cocoa in my coffee too; that’s a special nugget of info just for you.

“What happened to our morning breakfast together?” Dylan asks, pulling a muffin from her pocket and handing it to me. She likes to mother me—a lot—and I enjoy it on occasion, but I don’t enjoy it when she starts lecturing me about safe sex and STDs, or when she takes out a napkin, dabs it on her tongue, and tries to wipe something off my face. I can go without those motherly moments.

Natasha, the queen behind my hair and makeup, is trying to tame the wet mess of hair on my head. I turn toward Dylan and point to my eyes. “See these bags? They need some attention, and it’s going to take a lot of makeup to cover them up.”

A horrified expression passes over Dylan when she takes in my face. “Ew, your eyes look like they oozed under your skin and gathered into little pockets below your lashes.” She goes to poke them but I swat her hand away. “Why are they—?” She pauses and then a giant smile crosses her face. “Oh my God, you had your date last night. Please tell me it went well. It did, right? Did you invite him back to your place? You did, didn’t you? You invited him back to your place. Oh my God, you slept with him on your first date. You little hussy, you.”

Thank God Natasha signed an NDA before she started working with us, or she’d have some pretty juicy material to sell to the tabloids on a daily basis.

“I didn’t sleep with him; you know me better than that.”

“You’re right, you wouldn’t sleep with someone on the first date, but it went well, right?” Dylan pokes my shoulder with a knowing smile.

I can’t help but grin over my coffee. I’ve had a permanent grin on my face all morning. Yes, I was a little disappointed I didn’t get my good-night kiss—well, good-night kiss on the lips—but his reasoning for not kissing me satisfied me. Hell, it more than satisfied me. It made me feel special, sexy, absolutely irresistible, and that’s one of the best qualities a man can give a woman. Jack did it with a simple look and his devastatingly charming words.

Taking a sip of coffee, I rejoice as the hot liquid cascades down my throat. “It went really well.”

“Ah, I knew it.” Dylan bounces in her chair, excitement billowing over. “I’m ten years deep in my marriage, and don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I need to know everything. I want to know what dating is like today. Did he woo you? Was he funny? Oh God, is he hot? Please tell me he’s hot.”

“He’s hot.” I nod, trying not to giggle. God, I feel like a teenager. “He was impeccably dressed, first of all. He was dressed in a suit that expertly wrapped around his body in all the right ways. He’s tall with brown hair and deep, deep brown eyes, making him seem all kinds of mysterious. But he’s funny, outgoing, and his laugh—God, Dylan, his laugh. It’s deep and rumbly and so freaking sexy.”

“I love a good laugh.” Dylan sighs. “Chad has a good laugh. I can appreciate a man who doesn’t mind bellowing out a loud chortle. What did you guys—?”

“Excuse me, Miss, Clark, these were sent to you this morning.” From the reflection in the mirror, I see a beautiful bouquet covering the person holding them.

Turning in my seat, I take them as Dylan squeals next to me, saying, “He must have pulled some serious strings to get those delivered this early.”

She’s right, he had to have paid a lot of money to have someone deliver flowers this morning, which makes them that much more special. I thank the PA and inwardly squeal. Pulling the card from the flowers, I read the handwritten note from Jack.

Good morning, Noely.

Last night, I got absolutely zero sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I should have kissed you, and I’m regretting my decision now. Please forgive me and if you accept our second date, you are being warned now, I’m claiming that kiss I so stupidly forgot to capture last night.

Jack

I press the card to my chest and sigh. Yes, I freaking sigh. I sigh so hard because there’s no denying it ladies, Jack is sigh-worthy.

Dylan nudges my shoulder. “What does it say? You’re killing me here.”

Smelling the flowers, I hand Dylan the note, not wanting to read it out loud. While she reads, I take in the bouquet Jack sent. It’s unlike any bouquet I’ve ever seen. There is a beautiful balance of greenery with pops of purple and pink flowers. Absolutely stunning.

“He didn’t kiss you last night?” Dylan hands me the card back, which I put in my pocket.

“He kissed me on the cheek.” My answer causes Dylan to roll her eyes. “He had his reasons.” I don’t share why, seems weird to say if he kissed me he would have boned me, so I keep that to myself.

“So does this mean you’re going to go on a second date?”

Bringing the flowers to my nose, I take a deep breath and let their calming scent ease my racing heart. “Without a doubt.”

***

“Great show, ladies.” Kevin calls out while pulling off his headset and hanging it on a monitor.

Feeling a little cramped from sitting for so long, I stand and straighten out my dress while stretching my arms out. “I’m going to head to the gym. Care to join me?”

Dylan shakes her head. “I have a million cupcakes to make for the kidlet’s bake sale this weekend.”

I would suggest Dylan just buys them, but I know better. She likes to be involved in everything when it comes to her kids, even if it means she’s shackled to the kitchen, mixing multiple cupcake batters from scratch. She’s supermom, and I admire her for it.

“What flavors are you making?” Dylan makes the best cupcakes. If she wasn’t so good at her job, I would suggest she open her own bakery.

Looking to the ceiling, she recalls her chosen flavors by ticking off on her fingers. “Let’s see. Orange creamsicle, lemon blueberry, and strawberry shortcake.”

“Going fruity this go around.”

Dylan shrugs. “I went chocolate last time, so thought I’d switch it up. Lift some extra weights for me. I’ll be thinking of you when I’m taste testing.”

I point at Dylan while walking away. “Bring me a lemon blueberry tomorrow and I won’t tell our trainer you’re eating cupcakes instead of working out at the gym.”

“Deal.”

I head to my dressing room, ready to get out of the tight confines of my dress. I have a shred of self-respect when it comes to disrobing after our show, and unlike Dylan, I wait to take my bra off until I’m in a private setting. Like at home.

Before I went on air, I received a notification via the Going in Blind app asking if I wanted to go on a second date with Jack, and I couldn’t say yes fast enough. And to my utter delight, the big heart appeared on the screen. Jack said yes to a second date as well and suggested option B for our date. I fumbled quickly to read all about option B. Westward Beach Sunset Picnic this Saturday.

I don’t think I could have picked something more perfect for our second date. We both love the beach, and if I had it my way last night, I would have spent a lot more time with my toes in the sand and Jack’s body flush against mine, so to have another opportunity to replicate last night has me counting down the minutes until Saturday.

In my dressing room, I shut the door and pull out my phone. Before I went on air, I sent a message to Jack—or WindsorKnot—to thank him for the flowers. I’ve been dying to see if he messaged me back.

When I open the app, I’m rewarded with a little inbox notification.

My mind drifts to You’ve Got Mail and one of Meg Ryan’s early emails in the movie where she talks about the excitement of hearing those three little words, “You’ve got Mail.” I feel it. I understand it. The anticipation of waiting for that special person to connect with you again. In an age where instant gratification is the norm, it’s a beautiful thing to have to wait for a little mailbox to light up.

Having zero patience, I open his message.

ShopGirl,

You’re more than welcome for the flowers.

I have a confession: I’ve done absolutely nothing at work this morning and you’re to blame. Not only did I get zero sleep, but I wound up watching your show, unable to take my eyes off you, off those lips I didn’t get to taste. It wasn’t until my assistant snapped at me that I turned the TV off and tried to get some work done. You’ve ruined me, ShopGirl.

Jack

Normally, I would find his response a little cheesy, but after spending a decent amount of time with Jack last night, I know cheesiness is the furthest thing from the truth when it comes to him. So far, he seems genuine and calculated. He wouldn’t say something to garner a reaction. He truly means it and that’s what’s making my heart flutter a mile a minute.

I sit on the couch in my dressing room and type out a response.

WindsorKnot,

I would like to take the blame for your lack of productivity this morning but I’m afraid I’m going to have to place the blame on you. Maybe if you actually kissed me last night, you wouldn’t have to daydream about what my lips taste like.

My suggestion: next time you see me, kiss me.

Noely

***

I flick a piece of lettuce to the side and scrunch my nose at the salad bowl on my lap. Last night’s steak put a little dent in the calories for the week, so the bland salad I ate for dinner has me wishing I listened to my stomach while picking up my takeout and grabbed the giant Rice Krispies Treat that was calling my name.

It doesn’t help that Dylan has been sending me pictures of her cupcakes all evening either.

Setting my salad bowl to the side, I pull my blanketed legs to my chest and rest my arms on top of my knees while I look at the ocean. I don’t have a beachfront property, but my home is on a cliff overlooking the ocean, so it’s close enough for me.

I have yet to hear from Jack since my last message, and I worry if maybe I was a little too upfront . . . No, it was perfect. I refuse to second-guess myself during this process. I’ve been second-guessing my entire dating life. It’s time I say what I want to say and do what I want to do. If I want to find a true partner in life, then I need to act myself. And Noely Clark would have easily given Jack a hard time for not kissing her.

Smiling to myself, I take in the waves crashing into the rocks just as my phone rings.

Kevin.

Ugh, what does he want?

“Kevin, what do I owe the pleasure?” Do you hear the sarcasm in my voice?

“Hope I didn’t interrupt your beauty sleep. Lord knows you need it.”

I breathe out heavily with my nostrils flaring. I know he’s joking, but the man’s taunts are touching my last nerve lately.

“Just enjoying a crappy salad for dinner. What’s up?”

Kevin clears his throat and says, “Got a call from The Earthquakes.”

My ears perk up. The Earthquakes, or Quakes for short, is LA’s professional hockey team and whenever we get a call from them it means they want an interview. These are my favorite kinds of calls because outside my job, I’m a huge hockey and baseball fan, so when I can combine my career with what I love, it’s always a plus.

“Oh? Do they have a player they want us to interview?”

“Not just a player, but Hayden Holmes.”

Be cool. Be cool. Oh my God . . . be cool!

But gahhhhhhhh!

Hayden Holmes. I get to interview Hayden Holmes. He’s the up-and-coming rookie traded to the Quakes over the off season from Philadelphia. It was a huge gain for the Quakes because he has so much promise. He already rocked his rookie season, so with a year under his belt, I know he’s going to kill it next season and thankfully, he will be with the Quakes killing it.

“Hayden, wow. That’s really exciting.” I play it cool even though my nerves are dancing around in my belly. I don’t usually fangirl much, but this is a big deal. He is a big deal.

“Yes, since they called last minute, we’re going to put him on as a surprise guest tomorrow. Their publicists have already sent over a basic outline of what to talk about with him, so I’ll email that over. Give it a glance but it’s like every other athlete interview we’ve done.”

“Okay, so he’s on tomorrow. What segment are we cutting then?”

“Fritattas with Dylan. We’re moving that to Friday, turning it into Fritatta Friday.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that. All right, so then we should be good to go. I’ll check the email and do a little research on Hayden before tomorrow morning.”

“No need. I had Duncan put together a quick rundown for you, and I’m emailing that.” Kevin pauses for a second before he says, “And for Friday, I also have a little ten-minute segment worked in while you’re eating fritattas to talk about your little dating adventure.”

“Come on, Kevin,” I huff. He has to be over that by now.

“You’re not going to get out of this, Noely. I’ve talked with Lynn at Going in Blind. She’s working on a special segment with her team, but in the meantime, it will be a great personal piece for our viewers. If anything, you can encourage other singles out there to join the program. I mean, you did have your first date, didn’t you? You can talk about that.”

“And if I don’t?”

Kevin sharply exhales, irritation seeping into my ear. “Noely, don’t make me act like an ass to you, okay?” Been there, Kevin. Been there.

“Fine, but I’m not going to like it.”

“Should have thought about that before you used company equipment. See you in the morning.”

He hangs up before I can respond. Typical Kevin. Maybe it won’t be so bad. If anything, I owe it to Going in Blind for matching me with Jack. Who knows, maybe my story could help others. Searching for love is a daunting task, so maybe a little added encouragement from someone who’s been through the program is just what some of our viewers need.

Speaking of Going in Blind . . .

Eager to see if Jack messaged back, I open the app and am rewarded with a notification in my inbox. Once again, my stomach starts to do somersaults.

Jack wrote back.

ShopGirl,

Your boldness doesn’t go unnoticed. Being a gentleman was my number-one priority but now I know who I’m dealing with, I’m prepared to drop the gentleman act and take what I want. This Saturday, it’s going to be you, me, the open waves, and my lips on yours. Until then, put me out of my misery and tell me something about yourself I don’t know. Spare me and give me a detail about you to help me get through these next few mundane days.

Jack

Leaning back in my lounge chair, the sky around me falling to a midnight blue, I snuggle under my blanket and type out a response, my smile never fading.

WindsorKnot,

Have you ever wondered what it would look like if you took a hockey puck and split it in half? What you would see inside? I was convinced there was some kind of lucky charm inside one, so like the genius I was at twelve, I decided to find out for myself. With bravado and stupidity coursing through me, I placed a hockey puck on the back deck, roared my dad’s chainsaw to life, and cut a line right through . . . the back porch, missing the puck completely. That was the moment I thought, if my parents really love me, like truly love me, they won’t kill me over this.

Thank God for unconditional love, right? Your turn.

Noely