Page 25 of Revived

Chapter 9

Rachel

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I whisper to Jess as she drags me by the hand into the comedy club, a fairly new establishment in Emerson Falls.

Red leather booths and small tables encircle a stage where black velvet curtains fall to the ground and brick walls enclosing the rather large room are painted in a dark grey. The dim lighting gives the space a more intimate feel, and the long bar along one wall is stocked with liquor bottles against a mirrored background, glistening in the illumination of the lights, waiting to be consumed and influence bad decisions.

“It’s going to be fun, Rach. We need this. I know I sure do…” she trails off as we come to a stop in the line to check in.

“You will find someone, Jess. You’re a catch.”

She huffs and then brushes her hair behind her shoulders. “Dick is everywhere, but chemistry isn’t.”

I let out a jovial laugh at her bluntness just as her eyes widen at her vision across the room.

“Oh my God, he’s here,” she whispers and then turns to face me.

“Who?”

She closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling heavily. “The new doctor from the hospital…”

“What? Did you know he would be here?”

Her eyes pop open again as she looks me dead in the eye, her face so pale I think she might puke. “No. What the hell is he doing here?”

I shake my head at her, blinking repeatedly. “Probably the same thing you are… trying to find someone to bang.”

“Oh God. What is he going to think of me? What if we get sat together?” I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she glances over her shoulder once more. Then suddenly, she’s standing up tall and shaking off her freak-out. “You know what? It’s okay. We’re adults. I can handle this. We’re just co-workers…”

“Somehow I get the impression you wish you were more,” I tease, but just as she’s about to elaborate, the line moves and we’re suddenly at the front. Once we check in and get our name tags, we head straight to the bar, ordering up some liquid courage to help get us through the next few hours as I survey the room and take stock of the eligible men here tonight.

Tables are arranged in lines in the center of the room with dividers up between them for privacy. One side is for the men, the other for the women. The lady in charge quiets the room and explains that each date will last for fifteen minutes. We will speak to eight people over the next two hours. The men will move seats, but the women will remain at the same tables. If at the end of the date you both feel a connection, then contact information can be exchanged. There will be a slight break between dates four and five to use the restroom and refill drinks, and then the rest of the evening will work like the first half.

As the murmurs of excitement increase again, Jess turns to me.

“Thank you again for coming. I didn’t want to do this alone.”

I shrug, knowing there’s not much else I’d be doing tonight, except maybe ogling my boss in his own house. “I’m glad you got me out of the house.”

“How’s the tension? Still sexual and palpable?” She asks with a smirk.

“Ugh. He’s so handsome, Jess. It’s not fair. And I’m trying to ignore it, but it’s hard, especially after he saw me naked,” I whisper as she twists to face me so fast, I swear I hear her neck pop.

“What? Oh, I need details.”

As soon as I finish recounting my embarrassment a few days ago that still leaves me hot between my legs when I picture Luke’s fully aroused dick, the bell rings for us to take our seats.

My first date is with a guy named John. He’s not bad looking, and seems nice enough, but there’s definitely no connection. I thank him for the conversation, grateful at least that he helped me feel more at ease during this situation, and then move on to my next date.

If John was boring, then this next guy is the opposite. Brandon is a frat guy turned banker. But really he talks to me like a used car salesman, bragging about his records in college football and his sales rank at his job—obviously trying to sell me on how exceptional he is, but all I see is a shallow and self-absorbed man. I barely get a word in edge-wise before our fifteen minutes is up, when he tells me I’m too quiet and then moves on to the next victim.

“Wow,” I mumble around the rim of my martini, thankful that was over. I wonder how Jess is fairing in this situation, curious if she’s having as much luck as I am. As date number three takes a seat and I introduce myself, the man licks his lips and leans in closer to me.

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” he growls, instantly making me nauseous. The man has so much hair on his knuckles, I feel like I’m sitting across from a sasquatch.

“Oh, okay…”

“Damn, girl. You are fine,” he slurs, tipping back the last drink of his scotch and snapping his fingers at the waitress for another.

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