Page 1 of Just This Once

ONE

EMILY

Why amI settling for a medium-ugly man who won’t stop staring at my tits?

I questioned all my life’s choices.Safe and predictableheld less appeal as I watched my date dribble spaghetti sauce on his chin. I blame my mother. She had insisted that a blind date on Valentine’s Day was exactly what I needed to move on with my life after everything that happened last fall.

More like a spiraling descent into absolute nothingness.

Insert Dickie Johnson.

Dickie’s mother worked with mine as an administrative assistant at the local police station, and both had hatched the plan to pair us up.

Dickie. Freaking. Johnson.

After my parents had moved to the coastal Western Michigan town of Outtatowner, I learned quickly that almost everyone who lived there had some kind of quirky nickname. Unable to hide my horrified expression, Mom had assured me that nicknames seemed to be reserved for those who’d grown up in Outtatowner and not for a substitute teacher who had barely made it through week one of her new residency.

My parents claimed the nicknames were one of the many things to love about their charming small town. Dickie could have been Richard or Rick or, hell, even Bob, but around town, he was known solely as Dickie. The people here wore their nicknames like a badge of honor.

After being twenty-five minutes late, he’d copped a feel not once, but twice, on the short walk from the restaurant entrance to our secluded table. If that wasn’t a bad enough start to our date, Dickie droned on and on about his real estate licensure without asking asinglequestion about me. Honestly, that was fine, because the less he knew about me, the better. All I needed to figure out was how to make a graceful exit without having to hear about cutting the date short from my mother.

“I closed the sale on this very storefront.” Dickie waved a hand in the air. “So, if you’re thinking about dessert”—he winked at me—“I get a discount that I can stack with my coupon.”

I nodded and hummed a response, but his words didn’t register, since I couldn’t stop staring at the orange splatters of sauce clinging to the square patch of hair beneath his lower lip.

“Are you even listening to me? I was highlighting my financial prowess, but I see you’re distracted.” Dickie laughed and sucked in his lower lip, his tongue darting across the hairs. “It’s a flavor saver.”

My eyes lifted to his. He waggled his eyebrows at me, and my stomach curled in on itself.

I blinked and shook my head. Surely I hadn’t heard that right. “I’m sorry... awhat?”

His forefinger and thumb smoothed down the coarse hairs beneath his lip. “You’ve never seen a soul patch?” His eyes flicked down my front and back up, his words sinking in.

A flavor saver.

“Okay.” I forced a tight smile, then gently removed my napkin from my lap and placed it beside my plate. “I think it’stime to go.” I scooted backward, the scraping of stiff chair legs against the wooden floor filling the restaurant as I stood.

Dickie rose, reaching into his sports coat to remove his wallet. “Yeah, okay.” His chuckle bounced off my back. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

My eyebrows cinched down, and I shook my head as I gathered my purse and stuffed my arms into my coat. “Um... no. Let’s not. Thank you for tonight. It’s been... interesting. Good night, Dickie.”

Without waiting for him, I headed toward the door as fast as my slingback kitten heels could carry me.

“Hey. Wait up!” Dickie called behind me, but I was determined to escape the restaurant as quickly as possible. The February wind sliced through me as the attendant pulled open the ornate door with a flourish. My plan to run away from my problems was already starting to bite me in the ass when I realized it includedactual runningin the harsh Michigan winter. I lowered my head, wrapping my arms around my middle to ward off the chill.

“Wait, please. I have one more thing I need to ask you.”

My patience was thin, but the absolutely pathetic look in his eyes wore me down. “What is it?” I bristled against the cold.

He sucked in a breath and held up his palms. “Let me ask you this—are you tired of the nine-to-five grind? Are you looking for a way to gain financial independence and live a life of freedom?”

“What? Are you serious right now?”

Dickie rocked on his heels expectantly, completely oblivious to the fact I was actively freezing to death in my dress.

I held out my palms. “Um, I think I’m good.”

He leaned in. “Plain good isnotgood enough, Emily. You deserve the best! And that’s why I want to introduce you to an amazing health supplement line. These products are gamechangers. They’ll improve your energy, your immune system, your mental clarity... basically every aspect of your life!”

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