Chapter 2
My taxi pulled up to The White Orchid, and there were a decent amount of people entering. The club-goers were dressed to the nines. I was thankful that I decided to take a cab so I could be dropped off in front of the door. I wore my five-inch Jimmy Choo black pumps, and I felt wobbly just because of my nerves. If I had to park and walk for God knows how many city blocks, I probably would’ve fallen on my ass, broken an ankle, and ended up in the emergency room. Come to think about it that may actually have been a better alternative.
I paid the driver, exited the car, stood on the sidewalk, and stared at the entrance. The door seemed as if it were screaming at me to run and run fast. What had I gotten myself into?
Still outside the club where there was a gently calming breeze that washed over me and calmed my nerves, I looked at the list of questions I wanted to ask the guys. I figured by the tenth guy I would have it down pat, but I wanted to memorize them so I wouldn’t look too rehearsed. Julie and I went over the list, and we thought it was okay. I thought I would ask these questions: What do you like to do on dates? Do you like to travel? Do you like sports? Are you close to your family? Have you ever been married? Did you go to college? When was your last relationship and how long did it last? That last one was important to me. If by chance I met someone who I wanted to get to know better and he’d just gotten out of a long relationship, I didn’t want to be involved. That could lead to nothing but bad drama. I didn’t need some psycho ex-girlfriend, or worse an ex-wife, coming after me. I know that when I read a romance novel there is always that twist, but that was one I didn’t want to experience. I just wanted to experience the romance, love, tender kisses, moonlight strolls, and the sound of his voice before I fell asleep. Yeah, that’s what I wanted. I blocked everything out, closed my eyes, and could almost picture it all.
I jumped as my phone vibrated. It was a text from Julie.
Julie: 6:55 p.m.—I saw you get out of the cab over fifteen minutes ago! Get your ass in here! It is going to start soon.
I felt embarrassed that I was standing on the sidewalk alone staring into nothing. God, I am such a loser, and I am worried about meeting losers? I laughed to myself at the irony. I straightened my skirt, adjusted my top, took a deep breath, and made my way inside.
The club was gorgeous and looked very posh. It was different from most of the clubs I had been to. The décor was comfortable and enticing at the same time. There was a mild floral scent permeating the air. I couldn’t put my finger on what flower it was. It was dimly lit, but I could see the small round tables surrounded by cozy crushed-velvet chairs, which were silver and burgundy. There were high-top tables with stools scattered around. The dance floor looked like glass and was huge. It could easily accommodate over a hundred dancers, and the DJ booth behind it was encased in glass. It was a really stunning setup. I looked over at the bar made of dark wood. Its glass shelves were gently lit and displayed bottles of top-shelf liquor. This definitely wasn’t your run of the mill nightclub. It was perfect and opulent down to every detail, and all the glass made you feel as if you were floating and could see through everything. It was really pretty.
Julie saw me gawking at the club. She walked over to me, grabbed my arm, and started dragging me next to her. “You look beautiful, Aubrey. Just relax. Everything will be fine.” I smiled and took a deep breath. She handed me a ticket and a name tag. Thankfully, last names weren’t on there. With my luck, I’d meet a stalker or worse a murderer. I had a really bad feeling about the guys who were going to be here.
Julie led me to a small room adjacent to the bar where the event was going to be held. There were about twelve tables with two chairs at each of them. Each table was covered in a crisp white linen tablecloth and decorated with a single white orchid in a small vase. It dawned on me that that was the scent I smelled—orchids. It was still early, so the rest of the club wasn’t busy yet, but this little room was bustling with daters. I hurried and scoped out those in attendance.
Julie’s boss, Brian, who was married, in his fifties, and had salt and pepper colored hair, didn’t look as if he wanted to be there. He gathered the group and told us the rules. “You get six minutes together. Make them count. Write your date’s name on the scorecard. When you hear the first bell, your date begins. You are not allowed to touch or ask for last names, phone numbers, or addresses. I will ring the bell when your six minutes are up. At that time, all gentlemen stand and move to the table to your right, and ladies, stay where you are. You will have one minute to complete the required scorecards, which are on your table. This will reoccur until the dating has concluded, at which time you will hear the sound of two bells. At that time, you can move about the room, and you will need to bring your scorecards to myself or my colleague, Julie.” Julie gave a small wave so people would see who she was. She was so damn cute. I couldn’t help but smile.
I stared at the scorecards as if they were laughing at me. I had a thought that made my stomach turn. What if no one gave me a good score or rating? How embarrassing would that be? I have to say the ladies in this group were attractive and maybe slightly older than I was, but most twenty-five year olds would be coming to the club later to hang out and have a good time, not attending a Speed Dating event at seven in the evening.
Brian continued with the instructions. “We will review the scorecards and introduce you to your best match for the evening. If there aren’t any questions, we will begin.” No one said anything. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Speed Dating event sponsored by Walker-Stone Marketing at the beautiful White Orchid. I hope you find a match tonight.” People began applauding; I joined in and felt like an ass. “Please take your seats.”
Once we were all seated, Brian rang the bell.
Holy shit! Here we go, time for the crazy Speed Dating to begin. I was starting to sweat . . . fantastic! I noticed that most of the guys were a lot older than I was. Most of them were going bald or had gray hair, and I was sure the wrinkles weren’t smile lines; they were full-blown I-am-old-enough-to-be-your-father wrinkles. There was no way all these guys were under forty. Note to self: remind me to kill Julie later. She had to have known this and most likely didn’t share because she knew I’d prefer to be home on my comfy sofa rather than here. Fuck!
The first man who sat with me reminded me of my late Uncle Charlie—not a great start. He liked going to movies on dates. He liked watching horseracing, which I really never thought of as a sport, and when I mentioned that, he started lecturing me on the mental awareness and muscular strength a jockey needed. I just nodded and prayed for the sound of the bell. I continued with my questions, and found out that he had never been married. He was about to explain why when the bell rang. Thank God! He stood up to move to the next table. That was when I noticed why he got so defensive about horse racing; he had to be about five feet tall. He was probably a jockey. I almost started laughing, but then another man sat down.
As the night wore on, I got pretty much the same answers to all my questions from the guys, and it seemed as though the answers were exactly what a girl wanted to hear: I haven’t been in a long relationship in quite some time. I like to go out to dinner on my dates. I enjoy watching sports, as long as it’s with my date. That one was such crap! I didn’t know any guy who wanted to do that unless his date loved sports, and even then it was suspect. I was getting a bit frustrated, since it was all starting to feel phony—not that I was helping the situation with my fake smile—I responded with all crappy answers to make sure I didn’t get paired up with anyone who I didn’t think would be a good muse, which pretty much meant everyone. None of them sparked anything that would make me want to know them, let alone write about them. This whole thing was not going well. I wouldn’t have even filled out a scorecard if it wasn’t mandatory for me to turn it in at the end of the night.
The bell rang twice, which meant it was over. Thank the good Lord! That was the longest hour and a half of my entire life. I was just about to get up when a shadow cast over my table. I was exhausted and didn’t want to go through this torture anymore. I looked to my right, ready to tell whoever was standing there that the bell had rung and to move on. However, I found myself staring at a man’s waist, a very nice trim waist. My eyes continued upward, downward, and back up again. Our eyes connected, and I couldn’t help staring, that is until I lowered my eyes to his lips. Holy hell, he was gorgeous! He was tall, about six foot two; his hair was cut short on the sides, but longer and wavy on the top and styled perfectly. He had deep blue eyes, which almost looked navy, a well-trimmed beard, not a full beard, but a little more than a five-o’clock shadow. His body was teasingly god-like in his black fitted and most likely custom-made suit. His cufflinks were platinum and were adorned with diamonds. He definitely had money. He smiled at me, and I think I melted a little in my chair. Where the hell was this guy earlier tonight? My heart raced as if I’d just run the New York Marathon. I wondered if we’d run out of time and he was supposed to be my last speed dater; that would be my totally my luck if that were the case.
“Hello there. May I join you?” He said in a deep sexy made-for-radio kind of voice.
Smiling and trying to continue breathing at a normal rate, I motioned my right hand toward the empty chair at my table. “Please.” I sounded so formal; although, I was surprised and not to mention happy that I could say anything.
He had the sexiest smile I had ever seen, and his voice . . . It had to be the hottest thing I had ever heard. I pictured him next to me naked, touching me and kissing me. My eyes fluttered shut, and I think a moan may have escaped my throat.
His voice broke my reverie. “Do you do this often, because you don’t seem like the Speed Dating type? Not to mention, I think you are ten years younger than every other woman here.” His eyes pierced mine. Could he see through me? Was I still breathing? I wondered what the hell was going on with me.
I cleared my throat, and my fingers started playing with the tablecloth. Since my eyes were still grazing his suit-clad body, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a name tag. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve done this and didn’t realize there was a specific type that utilized Speed Dating. I notice you aren’t wearing a name tag. Did you arrive too late to get one?” I was starting to get nervous now. Who was this guy?
He laughed. “No, you’re right; I don’t have a name tag.” He looked at mine, which was placed over my almost non-existent left breast. Thank God for the padded bra I wore. “Aubrey.” He extended his right hand, and I met his with mine. “I’m Alex Logan.” We shook hands, but it was more like a hold than a shake, and I felt his touch all the way through me. I felt completely and utterly captivated.
“It’s nice to meet you, Alex Logan. I’m Aubrey Ryan. Well, you know I’m Aubrey. You just didn’t know the Ryan part. Well now you do because I just told you. I mean . . .” Oh my God, I sound like an idiot! Christ, get a hold of yourself, Aubrey “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you aren’t here for the event, then why are you here?” I couldn’t wait to hear his answer.
“I own the club. I happened to be checking in with the bar staff to make sure everything was in order for the evening. I knew this event was going on, so I popped my head in and saw you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. I don’t want to keep you from these eligible men.” He was looking around the room and had a shit-eating grin on his face. He knew there was no one of interest to me there.
That was not the answer I expected. Yeah, I minded that this gorgeous man took it upon himself to come over to me and wanted to sit down. “No, not at all.” Actually, this is the best conversation I’ve had all night.
He laughed. “Not many good conversationalists?”
Holy shit! Did I say that last part out loud? I couldn’t believe I’d said our conversation was the best of the night! This is why I am single! Total brain-to-mouth malfunction!
I smiled and tried to play it off. “No, and my best friend is going to kill me. I purposely tanked most of my answers because the guys were all losers. I could tell their answers were all fabricated, and if they weren’t, they should have been. I figure if they were going to lie to me in six minutes what would they do during an entire real date?” I made sure to finger quote “real.” “And the truthful ones just weren’t my type.”
“So these questions of yours . . . Hit me with them. Let’s see if I’m your type.” Amused, Alex leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. And what a chest it was, not to mention his arms. I could have stared at him for hours. The span of his back covered the entire chair; he was a phenomenal specimen of a man.
“Okay.” God, why am I so nervous? “Are you ready?” I tried my best to be as cool as Julie and prayed I could pull it off.
“Yup, hit me!”
I nervously laughed, squirmed, and shifted my ass in my chair. I straightened my back to appear confident. Clearing my throat with a smile, I asked, “What do you like to do on dates?”
He was just about to answer when Julie came over to get me, apparently not realizing I was content where I was.
She looked at me and then at Alex. She extended her hand to him. “Mr. Logan, I didn’t know you were here. I don’t know if you remember me, Julie Michaels with Walker-Stone Marketing.”
He shook her hand. “Of course I remember you, Julie. You were just here last week.” He smiled that ridiculously sexy smile.
“Right, excuse my interruption, but can I borrow Aubrey for a moment?” Julie actually blushed.
“By all means, I’ll be waiting, Aubrey,” he said with a grin. I couldn’t help but smile back.
Was Julie just as affected as I was? She sounded so odd around Alex, definitely not like my confident best friend; that’s for sure.
“Aubrey, what the hell are you doing with Alex Logan, and how do you know him?” I moved further away from the table to ensure Alex didn’t hear us and Julie followed.
“I just met him, Jules.” I looked over at him; luckily, he was looking at his cell phone and didn’t appear to have heard anything. “He’s totally hot though, right?” She looked stunned, mouth agape and eyes wide.
“Aubrey, we need to talk about that, but right now I could smack you because you rated the lowest on all the scorecards. What did you do? Tell them you had an STD? No one wants to be your match.” She looked disappointed and a little pissed.
I laughed and snorted a little. “Of course not, you saw the guys—they were wretched. Alex, on the other hand, is amazing, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to him and my research.”
I walked away from a shocked Julie. I actually shocked myself and went back to my table. I apologized to Alex and told him that I was right: I didn’t score well and Julie was on to me. I shrugged my shoulders because I really didn’t care. I was hoping for that outcome.
“Okay, back to my questions, I believe you still need to answer the first one.”
“Ah yes, what do I like to do on dates?” He rubbed his chin. “Well, that all depends on the woman and what she likes. If she hates Chinese food, I guess going to a Chinese restaurant is out of the question. But I guess in general, I like doing things that allow us to talk. That’s why I never go to a movie on the first date. I like a nice quiet dinner or something that allows me to get to know her, like a nice walk in the park.”
Hmm, okay, that was a decent answer. I hit him with the second one. “Do you like to travel?
“I do. I prefer to travel the States and Europe, primarily France.”
Good, while we’re there, we can drop in on my parents. Why the hell did I think that? Holy shit, I really was losing it!
I started rattling off the other questions. “Do you like sports? Are you close to your family? Are you in a relationship?”
He rubbed his jaw as he answered each question in order: “Yes . . . No . . .” He paused and looked concerned and said, “That’s complicated.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He suddenly seemed completely stressed.
What the hell did that last answer mean? I had to mentally think of the order of my questions. He liked sports, wasn’t close to his family, that one made me sad, and his relationship status was complicated. Was he still in one? I felt the smile fall from my lips and my chest hurt a little. I couldn’t continue this . . . whatever this was, if he were in a relationship, complicated or not. That totally went against what I believed in and was definitely not romantic. I would never be the other woman.
I took my purse off the back of my chair and stood up to leave. I stretched out my right hand. “It was nice meeting you, Alex.” He didn’t put his hand out. He looked up at me as if he had more to say.
He ran his hand over his shoulder and around his neck. “Was it something I said?” He looked confused. The neck rubbing must be his tell for being nervous. I’d have to remember that.
Yeah, how about complicated—complicated because you have a wife sitting at home? I noticed he didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean anything. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it was something you said. I’m not interested in complicated.”
“What are you interested in?”
“I’m interested in dating someone who isn’t complicated. I made sure to use finger quotes when I said “complicated.”
“Let me buy you a drink and explain what I meant by that.” His deep blue eyes stared at mine; they pleaded for me to comply. I felt something stir in me—a feeling I’d never felt before.