Page 1 of The Regrettable Mistake

Prologue - Steph

Did men bring flowers on a first date anymore?

Ollie surprised me by showing up with beautiful pink and orange peonies. They were gorgeous but he offered me no time to appreciate the gesture. Was that both a red and a green flag all at once? Thoughtful but impatient?

First dates were hard for me to navigate. They were probably not a blast for anyone, but I got on much better with children than adults. They were brutally honest, but offered hugs and smiles in return. Adults were sometimes cruelly honest and rarely offered apologies, let alone hugs and smiles. Adults, for the most part, sucked.

I was still on the fence about my date.

“You look lovely,” Ollie complimented. I was wearing my favorite, cream-colored flowy skirt that reached my ankles. I had opted for a billowy top to go with it, but my twin nixed it and told me to go with the body suit to highlight my womanly curves for once instead of hiding underneath a potato sack. Judging from the appreciation in Ollie’s eyes, if not his tone, my brother had not steered me wrong.

“Thank you,” I offered as I pushed my long, dirty blond beach waves off my face. “You look good as well.” My compliment was genuine. Ollie wore tan slacks and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Between the two of us, we looked like we just stepped off a set filmed in a tropical location instead of heading on an early dinner date in June in Summerset, Virginia.

Our town was mid-sized at the base of the Blue Ridge Parkway and boasted that small town feel with all the modern conveniences like Ubers and delivery services. It made us a prime vacation destination for tourists who wanted to get away and see nature, but not too far away from civilization to be inconvenienced. Ollie’s brown hair was styled short and almost business like, which fit as he was a business owner. His brown eyes seemed a bit colder and distant than I imagined from his picture.

“Is there anything you don’t eat?” Ollie asked me as he opened the car door for me to get in.

“No, I’m fairly adventurous with foods.” He smiled in answer and closed the door behind me once I was settled.

I watched as he walked around the front of the car, noting that even his button-up shirt didn’t hide the amazing physique beneath it. The man spent ample time in a gym setting because there was no way to have a body that fine without putting in the work.

“So, you never did say what brought you to campus the day we met.”

“I guest lecture for a few business courses and have access to the gym on campus as one of the perks.”

“Oh, I’ve never seen you there before,” I commented while thinking back. “I don’t usually go for the weight room, though. My preferred workout is swimming in the pool.”

“Swimming or playing?” He asked, and it almost sounded a bit judgmental.

“Both, actually. I swim for exercise a few times a week but I also joined an intramural water polo team during my sophomore year and continued until our season ended a month ago.”

His lips quirked up as he turned to take me in again. “You seem more peace, love, and happiness than trying to drown your fellow opponents in a pool so you can score points.”

“And you seem too buttoned-up to know about the dirtier side of water polo matches.” I winked at him before he turned his attention back to the road. “Looks can be deceiving,” I tacked on.

“Fair point.”

By the time we were mid-way through our meal, I’d learned that Ollie, otherwise known as Oliver Burton, was 27, a business owner, and never married. He was also somewhat cold and to the point about everything.

I texted my twin when Ollie got up to go use the restroom.

Steph: Might need a rescue. This guy is about as much fun as watching paint dry.

Stevie: Damn. You really know how to pick ‘em. This is the third dud in a row.

Steph: Thanks for pointing out how sad and alone I am.

Stevie: Someone has to keep it real for you. I can give you a call in 10 minutes.

Steph: Yes, please.

When Ollie made his way back to the table and sat down, he seemed less than thrilled to see that I was still at the table. I pulled my napkin off my lap and placed it on my half eaten food. My sigh properly stifled, I was about to tell Ollie that I’d find my own ride back. There was no need for excuses at that point.

“Look,” I started, but he interrupted me.

“Sorry, I haven’t been the best date and I know it. My son isn’t feeling well and I’ve been worried.”

“Your son?” I questioned as no one, Ollie included, bothered to tell me the man was also a dad.

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