Page 1 of Ask Me Something

Chapter One

My perfectly manicured nails flew across the keyboard with the intention of sending one last email out this evening before I left to meet my friend Catherine. If I hoped to take the next week off, flying out first thing on Christmas Eve, I needed to ensure everything was in order. Not that I wouldn’t be working over the holidays. I never truly turned it off as Vice President of the New York branch of Gamble Advertising.

The direct line lit on my desk phone, and I smiled at the number that flashed.

“Sasha Brooks here,” I answered.

“Are you working late tonight?” Brian’s smooth baritone came over the line.

Brian Carpenter was the East Coast Regional Vice President for our company. We’d known each other almost eight years. Over that time, we’d developed a relationship that was a combination of colleagues and friends. When I’d been promoted last year, however, he’d become my boss. Our working relationship was going through some growing pains, but the biggest change had been my move from Charlotte up to New York City, where I no longer saw him every day.

“Actually, I’m finishing up right now.” Glancing at the clock, I saw it was only five-thirty. Early, for me.

“Good. Are you free for dinner tonight?”

My heart beat faster. “Wait. You’re here in the city?” Brian traveled up here at least once a month. When he did, we tried to get together outside of the office for dinner or drinks. These occasions didn’t happen as often as when we’d both lived down in Charlotte, so when he was in town I tried to rearrange my plans to see him.

“I am,” he chuckled. “Otherwise it might be awkward.”

Shit. I couldn’t get out of my commitment. “Cute. Uh, I wish I’d known. I have this thing tonight.”

“Oh, yeah? Hot date?”

I groaned and decided to come clean even though he would give me a hard time. “I promised to go with Catherine to a speed dating night.”

“Uh, I wasn’t aware you were into that sort of thing.”

“Believe me, I’m not. I’m doing it for Catherine. You should feel sorry for me.”

“Honey, I don’t know who to feel sorrier for: you or those poor bastards you’re going to meet. Why in the world is Catherine speed dating to begin with? She shouldn’t need that type of thing to meet a man.”

I couldn’t help smiling when he called me honey. It always got me in my sweet spot. “I tried to tell her that, but I think she’s anxious ever since her ex got engaged. I’m accompanying her for support.”

“That’s rough, but you’re being a good friend. I know this type of thing is outside your comfort zone.”

Yes, it was. He knew I had apprehension with new social situations. “What about drinks afterwards? If you’re okay with the both of us, we should be finished by eight o’clock.”

“Sure. Text me when you’re done and let me know where. I’ll meet you.”

“Okay, sounds good. See you later.” At least my evening was looking up now.

* * *

Why the hell had I agreed to this?I’d asked myself that question ten times over since arriving but had yet to come up with an answer that didn’t have me scoping out the exit signs in this eclectic little coffee shop decorated for the holidays. The scene in front of me was like a bad dream, but in all reality here I was at my first and hopefully last Manhattan speed dating night.

Damn, the perky woman in charge of the evening was talking to us ladies, and I hadn’t been paying attention. I took in her big hair, heavy makeup—and were those shoulder pads? Huh. It was like I was looking at Miss Texas circa nineteen eighty-five. Considering she’d preserved her signature style while living in fashion-centric New York City spoke volumes. The woman obviously had some impressive self-confidence.

“Are you nervous, Sasha?” Catherine asked, interrupting my wandering thoughts.

Observing her barely contained enthusiasm, I realized I’d need to fake it tonight in order to be a good friend. Right. That’s why I was here: to be supportive. Deep breaths and think about how much fun I was going to pretend to have.

I gave Catherine a wan smile. “No, this is less intimidating than a one-on-one blind date.”

She beamed, and I knew that I’d done the right thing in agreeing to accompany her tonight. Catherine’s divorce last year had taken quite a toll on her self-esteem when it came to dating and men. Since we’d become good friends, she’d confided in me about trying to venture out. Being single, I’d agreed to come along so that she wouldn’t have to do it alone. It was my own fault for getting into this situation. Upon meeting Catherine, I’d gone out with her like I’d written the book on how to meet men. This was the image I’d created for myself, and I was too invested to back down now.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced at my watch. If all went according to plan, we’d be done in less than two hours. I’d text Brian and we’d meet for drinks. It had been three weeks since I’d last seen him, and I was looking forward to it.

Catherine handed me a chai tea and I wished it was something stronger. Amongst the twenty women attending, I wondered how many of them were regulars to this type of thing? Is this what females over the age of thirty did to meet men in this city? I was slightly north of that aging milestone, but I felt more pressure in imagining a romantic relationship than in worrying about a biological clock ticking.

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