Page 1 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

1

Julia

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as I rush through the entrance of the restaurant, my shoes squeaking loudly on the hard floor that leads to the hostess counter. There’s a young woman standing there, smiling brightly at me, but I notice her eyes drop down to my shoes.

I had every intention of wearing my favorite pair of heels tonight, but my first mistake was wearing them to work today. The second mistake was thinking I’d be able to show up on this blind date looking put together. I’ve got a mountain of tests that need grading, all sitting on my desk in the classroom, and I lost track of time.

Lost track of time.

For a date.

“Hi, I’m meeting someone here,” I say softly and give her my best smile, while simultaneously blowing a strand of my hair out of my face.

My best friend, Mallory, helped me plan this date to the barest detail so nothing would be left to chance. It seems those plans were a waste of time because everything is going wrong.

The tennis shoes I'm wearing have dirt stains on them, proving just how often I use them to go out into the garden and tend to my vegetables. My favorite heels, the ones that are currently sitting in the back seat of my car, have puke seeping into the soles – that’s what being an elementary teacher will get you. Instead of having my hair curled and pinned to the top of my head, as Mallory and I had talked about, I had to quickly run my hands through it before leaving.

I give the hostess my date's last name, who the reservation is under, and she nods excitedly. “Of course, right this way.”

While she leads me through the tables, I sigh in relief when my shoes touch the carpeted space. I pull my phone out and quickly look at the time, then curse at myself for being twenty minutes late. What woman ends up being late for their own date?

This one.

When we round the corner, there’s a lanky brunette man sitting alone at a table with his phone resting in front of him. His jaw is clenched tightly shut as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I silently pray that we’re going to a different one, but my luck is shot for the day, and she comes to a stop in front of him. He glances up at me, his tense shoulders relaxing for a moment before trailing his gaze down the length of my body.

I had the perfect dress picked out, hanging in the closet in my classroom, and I never got the chance to put it on. Instead of the red number that would’ve hugged all my curves, I’ve got the pencil skirt I wore for work that is loose around my thighs and a thin sheer blouse that doesn’t show a single asset. It’s pathetic, honestly, and I’m sure Mallory will have the same reaction when I tell her about this.

“Hi,” I say as he lifts slowly from his chair. He spreads his arms out, and I immediately step closer to him, wrapping my arms around his wide frame. When he clears his throat, I stumble away from him and note the frown on his face. Maybe that was the wrong move. “Sorry for being late,” I mumble.

I’m trying to wrack my brain for his name, but all my students' names are still firmly at the front of my mind and I’m coming up blank on his.

This is probably why my dates never go as planned.

My date walks around the table and pulls my chair out, waving a hand in front of me to indicate I can sit down. I sink into the chair slowly, keeping my eyes on him as he strides back over to his chair and sits down, and then I blow out a rough breath. “I had tests to grade, and I lost track of time. My favorite shoes are sitting in my car, coated in puke because one of my students got sick today,” I reach forward and grab the glass of water sitting in front of me, then take a large sip with my eyes pointed at the tablecloth. “It’s been… a day.”

Silence ensues and I look up, finding his gaze on me with a stern frown, and I shake my head while chuckling nervously. “Sorry, Mallory mentioned you work with her. What do you do?” He opens his mouth, but I continue. “I’ve been in her office a few times, but never saw you around.”

He clears his throat and says, “I’m one of the managers. My office is on a different floor than hers, but we’ve shared lunch a few times.”

The hostess comes up to us with a bottle of red wine and I smile at her while holding my wine glass out. As a teacher, drinking wine is a necessity on most days before I have to go to bed, and this night is no different.

I take a long sip after it’s poured, then place the glass back onto the coaster I got it from and pause to wait for him to say more. The awkward silence is too much, though, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Did you know that red wine prevents wrinkles?” He blinks at me, confused by my statement, and I nod as if this is what he wants to hear. “The abundance of antioxidants in wine helps destroy radicals in your body, resulting in great skin.”

“That’s… interesting,” he says before giving the hostess a weird look. She doesn’t say anything, only scurries away to leave us alone at the table.

“There’s a wine-phobia called oenophobia, where people are actually afraid of wine. Isn’t that ridiculous?” I snort in response to my own question, and my cheeks flame up immediately from embarrassment. Another fact comes to mind, and I chuckle. “And in Utah, there’s a law that prevents you from swallowing wine if you’re tasting it. Imagine this,” I say, lifting my wine glass in the air. “We’re in Utah, on a date just like this, and a wine I’ve never had before gets placed in front of me. I’d have to taste it, then spit it out in front of you.”

“Look, can we talk about something else?” my date asks, then sighs. “Literally, anything. As long as it’s not about wine.”.

“Of course.” I think about what I could talk about, but my mind is an empty void, and I’m more worried about the way my stomach is churning. How is it that I can’t think of a single thing to talk about, but I manage to bring up unnecessary facts about wine?

“Do you like working with children?”

Now, this is a topic I can go on and on about without sounding like a weirdo. I smile and nod my head, my fingers clinging to the stem of my glass. “Working with kids has always been my passion. It’s a wonderful job.”

He smirks, although it’s not as bright as I hoped it would be. “I bet you have tons of stories.”

Things are getting easier, this is good. Mallory would be pleased to know I’m not bombing the entire thing. “Oh gosh, more than I can keep count of.” I lean forward with a bright smile and add, “The answers they give on some of their classwork and tests are a delight.”

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