The restaurant I’d picked for my Tinder date was packed with the Saturday evening crowd. It was one of my favorite restaurants because it had an amazing bay view, great seafood, and even greater service, but by now I wasn’t feeling any of it.

My personal life wasn’t as nearly successful as my career. Go figure. I didn’t have luck with men, always finding those with more flaws than I could even count, so I couldn’t find the right one for me.

Where did people find the ‘right one’ anyway? All around me were happy couples kissing or holding hands, and I wondered how long their relationships would last? I wasn’t bitter or a true love non-believer; I was just tired of searching for something that had always been far beyond my reach.

One of the worst things about being single was that my friends kept trying to hook me up with their acquaintances, and I’d had enough. The older I got, the more often I heard that famous question—“When was I going to get married?”, and it was getting tedious.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, so I’d decided to try finding a partner online. Not even three failed dates later, I came to the conclusion that it was pointless, yet here I was—still trying to prove to my friends and myself that there was hope.

Yeah, right. This night was another failure. I tapped my fingers on my table absentmindedly, getting more annoyed with each passing minute. I was already waiting for an hour with no Tinder date in sight, and I wished I knew the guy’s phone number so I could call him and tell him what a loser he was.

The waiter approached my table with a sympathetic look on his face. “Would you like another glass of wine, miss?”

I glanced at my almost empty glass before I downed the remaining wine. I was stood up by my date, so there was no need for me to stay here any longer.

“I’m fine. Thank you. May I have the bill, please?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

I checked the time on my phone, seeing it was past nine, and made plans for another lonely night with Netflix and Häagen-Dazs. As soon as I paid my bill, I rose to my feet, ready to leave the place, but then the glass door opened and a familiar figure came inside.

My breathing accelerated when I recognized Daniel, even though several days had passed since the group session. This wasn’t surprising because, after all, that kind of presence was difficult to forget. He walked confidently, catching the attention of many females in the room, and my insides churned with something I couldn’t describe.

Half-way through the restaurant, his eyes found me, and my body responded with inexplicable warmth. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t remember me, but then his face lit in recognition, and he threw me the most charming smile. He gave me a once-over, slowly assessing me, and I basked in the attention. I was glad that I’d dressed in a tight black mini-dress that showed off my lush breasts and tiny waist.

I felt light-headed, which had nothing to do with the wine I’d just drunk. He surprised me when he approached my table to greet me.

“Ms. Ford, right?” he asked, offering me his hand to shake.

I accepted it, enjoying the feel of his strong hand against mine. “Just Marissa.”

“Marissa.”

Holy... My name rolled off his tongue so sensually, creating tingles on my skin. I actually longed to prolong our contact when he pulled his hand away.

“It’s nice to see you here. I often have dinner here, but I’m sure I would’ve noticed you if I’d seen you before. Do you usually come to this place?”

“Not that often, but it’s one of my favorites. I’m also surprised to see you here.”

“Are you leaving now?”

I glanced around the restaurant, confirming that the guy I’d been waiting for wouldn’t show up. “Yeah. Actually, I’ve been stood up by my Tinder date.” I scratched my neck, which I did every time I felt uncomfortable. “So there’s no point for me to stay.”

He scrunched up his eyebrows, his face revealing some surprise at my words. “Who in their right mind would stand up such a beautiful woman like you?”

Oh. My lips curled into a gigantic smile, my heart beating faster. He was good.

“Thank you, Daniel.”

“No need to thank me. That is the truth. Do you mind if I join you?” he asked me suddenly, which doubled my heart rate.

I was faced with a difficult decision, perplexity getting the best of me. He was a potential client, so staying here with him wouldn’t be okay, but then again, he’d left a couple of days ago and I had no clue if he was ever going to come back. I wanted to spend some time with him and get to know him better.

“Okay.”

“That guy is a fool,” Daniel said straightforwardly after the waiter took our orders. “I would never stand you up.”

His smile was flirty, accentuating his attitude and appearance, and I had to admit that I liked it very much. I felt an unexpected pang of desire, accompanied by regret that he wasn’t just some stranger I’d met out of my office.

I smiled back at him, well aware that he was still my potential client, so I shouldn’t be attracted to him. Besides, did I really want to get involved with someone who was a sex addict? That was a big no-no right from the start.

“Are you usually this charming, or is this only reserved for me?” I smiled at him, flirting back.

“It’s reserved for special women like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely a playboy. “Right. So how many women have heard that just this week?”

“Too many. I’d actually lost count.”

My smile turned into a giggle. He was charming indeed. “Have you ever been stood up by someone?” I had to ask, finding it difficult to imagine anyone ever doing that to Daniel.

He scratched his jaw. “Hm, let me see. I think that maybe happened to me in high school.”

A huge grin broke out on my face. “In high school?”

“Yeah.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Thirty-one.”

“So the last time you were stood up was more than ten years ago? Nice. I think I should start taking notes on how not to be stood up from you.”

He responded with his mellifluous laugher, which was just another thing on the long list of things that drew me to him, and it was becoming more difficult for me to ignore this fiery attraction. I wished we’d met under different circumstances so I could take this to a new level.

Our conversation continued after we got our food and drinks. We clinked our glasses together.

“To no more failed dates,” he said, and I giggled.

“To no more failed dates.”

“Why do you go on Tinder dates anyway?” he asked after he took a sip of his wine. “You’re very attractive. You could easily get anyone you want.”

Putting my glass back on the table, I returned his steady gaze. I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal to him about my personal life, considering our potential professional relationship and all. Oh, screw it.

“I don’t have much luck with guys, so finding them online was my last resort.”

“Why don’t you have much luck with guys?”

“They’re either cheating douchebags or plain boring.” Or they’re sex addicts, my subconscious added, but I shut down that voice. He was just really attractive, that was all. I didn’t like more than that... Hopefully. “Anyway, my friends have been asking me all the time when I was going to get married, and being single sucked.”

His eyes never left mine, a mysterious smirk decorating his face. “So you want to get married?”

“Not really. Right now, all I want is a normal relationship, but it feels like I’m asking for too much.” I let a chuckle out, downplaying my situation. “How about you? How is your dating life?”

He took another sip of his wine, looking into the distance as if he was musing about something. “Well, you already know about my problem.” His gaze returned to me. “I don’t actually date. It’s all about sex and... And that need to feel something, but it doesn’t work.” He let out a long sigh, his handsome features showing tiredness. “Look, I wanted to apologize.”

“What for?”

“For leaving in the middle of the session a few days ago. Actually, I was uncomfortable and I didn’t like sharing my story in front of all those strangers.”

“It’s okay, Daniel. You don’t have to apologize. That’s understandable, and sometimes things like that happen. Many of my clients reacted the same way at first, it’s normal to feel that way.”

“But I want to work on that issue.” He glanced at his glass, seemingly deep in thought, but I had the feeling that he wanted to share something with me. I waited patiently for him to continue. “Can I tell you something? It’s confidential—as in from a client to a therapist?”

I straightened myself up, instantly assuming my work-mode posture. “Of course. Everything you say now will remain with us only.”

“Here’s the thing. It’s getting more difficult for me to cope with the outcome. I need sex to feel something, but as soon as I’m done, I feel empty. I feel emptier than ever actually.”

“When did that start?”

He didn’t respond immediately, looking at his glass again. “Several years ago.”

“Do you know why?”

“I’m not sure.”

He wasn’t telling me something, but I didn’t want to pressure him for answers now.

“I think it would be best for you to continue with therapy. If it’s getting more difficult, it is a sign that you should do something about it as soon as possible. That’s what I’m here for. I can work with you and help you determine the cause. Then we’ll start working on solving it.”

“Even though I’m not that comfortable talking about my problems in front of the whole group, I’ll try it. Maybe I can come to it a couple of times and just listen to others speak.”

“That’s a good idea. I also want you to know that there is an alternative. If the group sessions aren’t your thing, you can see me one-on-one. It may be more comfortable and everything that you say will remain confidential.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied with my suggestion, and a shiver ran down my spine. If Daniel accepted to have one-on-one sessions with me, I would have to forget about the attraction I felt toward him. I didn’t want to complicate things.

“I didn’t think about that before, but I’ll consider it.”

I returned his smile, slightly flustered because of the way he looked at me. Calm down, Marissa. He was just a client, remember that. “Great.”

“I’ll come to the next group session. It’s on Tuesday, right?”

“Right.”

We spent the rest of our dinner chatting, switching from one topic to another. I was surprised at how easy it was to talk with him. There was never a moment of uncomfortable silence between us. He owned several construction companies and planned to expand overseas one day. He loved his work, so he spent most of his time in his office or in meetings.

We shared similar tastes and interests—both of us liked jazz, thrillers, working out, and cooking—and I felt I was starting to connect with him. I had to remind myself a few times not to feel anything because it would lead me to cross a line I never had before.

When we left the restaurant together, we were both laughing like kids. I realized I didn’t want this—whatever this was—to end, and I wished we could stay together longer. I had more fun with him than I could’ve imagined, and going back to an empty apartment somehow didn’t feel nice at all.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner, Daniel. I had a great time.”

His gorgeous smile made my heart speed up. “Don’t mention it, Marissa. I enjoyed our dinner too. Do you have a car, or do you want me to drive you home?”

I didn’t expect him to offer me a ride back home, and I almost wished I’d come here on foot.

“I came here by car. Thank you for offering, though.”

He flashed me another smile. “It’s nothing.”

He leaned in, and I stilled, unsure if he was actually going to kiss me. His lips connected with my cheek, leaving a long soft kiss that roused me and made me want much more. He smelled so good—a mixture of his cologne and some potent scent that was all his—and it lingered on me even after he stepped back. If only all men smelled as good as he did...

“Good night, Marissa.”

I licked my lips, trapped under his incandescent gaze. “Good night, Daniel.”

“See you soon.”

“See you.”

I turned around and walked away, more than aware of his eyes raking over my body, and I had no idea how I was going to stay professional with him. I sensed I was already in trouble.