Page 5 of Romancing the Rude Guy

It’s rather pathetic. I could have a date any day this week. All with men I don’t want. Yet I can’t seem to find any good, decent guys.

I don’t want anyone hung up on their ex, or worse yet, still with someone. I have zero interest in cheaters. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.

The same goes for men that want a second mom. I want a partner, someone who is my equal, not someone I need to take care of. I make more than decent money and I could support someone else but call me old-fashioned. I want a man that can pull his weight.

Is that really too much to ask for?

Apparently so.

For a lark, I start scrolling through dating sites while eating my dinner. They have sites for everything and everyone, including professionals. That one catches my eye and I’m about to click when a call comes in.

It’s Grammy Brooke!

Smiling, I answer and at the sound of her sweet, cheerful voice, I’m instantly happier. Some of my best memories growing up were visiting her.

In her twenties and thirties, Brooke was a model and actress. She retired when she married her husband and had my mother. In her fifties, she took up acting again and starred in a very successful television show that ran for eight seasons.

Her and Pop’s house was filled with all sorts of photographs of her with other celebrities and various memorabilia from her movies and acting work. Not only that, but we’d spend hours together going through one of the walk-in closets in a spare bedroom that contained the most amazing clothes, all leftovers from her acting days.

When Pop passed away, she saw no reason to keep the house and moved into a condo down in Florida for a while. That lasted for ten years, and my mother and I would spend summers with her when I was still living at home. When I went away for college, I didn’t see grammy that much.

It was amazing when three years ago she moved into the Honeysuckle Senior Center, right here in the city I worked in. In a hilarious twist, my mom ended up taking over grammy’s condo in Florida.

“Grammy! It’s so good to hear from you.”

Her chuckle is like warm molasses rolling over me. “We spoke just last week.”

“I know. It’s still good to hear your voice.”

“You are such a dear, Alice. Don’t ever change!”

Laughing, I move over to one of the big sofas in my living room and plop down, curling my long legs up under me. “I don’t plan on it. How are you doing?”

“Amazing. Things have finally fallen into place, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Oh my, thinking about coming out of retirement?” I tease.

Grammy has long said the only way she would ever consider acting again was if they gave her a prime role, the filming location was in Hawaii, and her costar was one of those handsome young men. Then she’d rattle off a list of those “young” actors. I had to google them to even know who they were and all of them were no longer young and some not even still living. That I didn’t mention to her.

She snorts. “They could only hope. No, I have you set up on a date!”

“A date?” My mind whirls and I can’t help adding mind reader to my grammy’s long list of accomplishments.

A bit of eagerness descends and with it comes the relief that maybe I won’t need a dating service after all. “Tell me more.”

***

I arrive at The Stone Grill fifteen minutes before our six pm reservation, but the smiling hostess immediately leads me to a table near the rear of the restaurant. The tables are rather close together and I feel rude as we weave between them to reach mine. A wave of disappointment hits me when I see it’s empty. My date hasn’t arrived yet.

His name is Mark, and that’s all I know about him. Oh, other than he’s supposed to be perfect for me. Despite my past bad luck with men, grammy’s optimism is catchy and I’m buzzing with excitement.

Smoothing down my short blue dress, I can’t help feeling the appreciative stares from the diners around me as I sit. At five foot eight, I’ve been blessed with long legs that I know look great, so I wanted to show them off tonight. This dress not only fits me perfectly, but also showcases my legs.

Not knowing how tall my date is, I wore flats instead of heels. Some men don’t like a taller woman. I hope Mark isn’t one of them. I’m also hoping he’s over six feet so I can wear my three-inch heels whenever we go out.

I sit and try to patiently wait while scanning the restaurant, hoping to catch a glimpse of my mystery man when he makes his way to our table. The minutes drag by, and I start fantasizing about what will happen if we hit it off tonight. I haven’t been dancing in ages, not since my college roommate dragged me along with her and her friends to various clubs. Dancing is definitely top of the list.

Dropping deeper into my fantasies, I also hope he likes lazy weekends in bed. Just the two of us curled up together, talking about everything and anything that pops into our heads.

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