Page 42 of Finding Hope

Mine is all in one; kindergarten right through to graduation. Geographically, we’re on one property, but the students are split so the six-year-olds are on one side and the sixteen-year-olds are a little further away.

Brad is twenty-seven years old, wears brand name clothes and sunglasses, has neatly manicured hands, and drives an Audi A3.

I’m genuinely concerned that he may be compensating for lack of other assets. My theory remains intact thus far; the guys with the small dicks tend to have powerful cars. Except Jack, the douchey guy I met months ago. He might have had a good-sized dick, but I’ll go ahead and assume his car was compensating for his lack of personality and kindness.

You win some, you lose some.

I haven’t seen Jack since that night. I haven’t heard from him. I haven’t thought of him until now. His brother and sister-in-law were in my office on the Monday after my meltdown in front of his entire family –His. Entire. Family! I still want to die– and they assured me they don’t think I’m a dirty whore. Apparently Jack’s in the middle of a major life crisis, and she assured me he’s not normally such a prick.

Prick.

Her word.

Either way, her assurances helped me put him aside and move on with my life, and the fact I haven’t seen or heard from him has helped my humiliation lessen.

“Britt.” X clicks his fingers in my face. “I asked you a question.”

“Huh?”

“Who is he? Your date?”

“Oh.” Shaking away the thoughts ofanotherman, I focus on my brother’s light blue eyes. “He’s Brad, from school.”

“Is he a criminal? A murderer? Rapist? Addict? Does he hurt people?”

I smile and think of the man that’s just a little too proper to be a criminal. “No, I don’t think he does any of that stuff.” To be honest, I think he spends most of his time talking to himself in the mirror.

“You don’tthink…” With narrow eyes and a sigh, he chucks me under the chin. “Be safe. I’ll be at work. Call me if you need me.”

I shake my head dramatically, because two can play that game. “You’realwaysworking these days, X. You need to slow down, find a nice girl, get married.”

I’m teasing. I’m feeding him the same line Mom has fed both of my brothers for years. She’s devastated her thirty-three-year-old son hasn’t settled down yet – and don’t even get her started on my middle brother. That’s a can of worms for another day.

Then there’s me, almost a full decade younger, who my parents wishnevergrew up.

“Ha, you got jokes.” X steps across the room and doesn’t even try to hide his rolling eyes. “Whatever, Brat. Go out, have fun. But nottoomuch. I’ll be around. Call me if you need me or if he’s a douche.”

I smile as theotherdouche flashes through my mind.

Twenty minutes later, I slide out of Brad’s fancy car and step onto the curb out front of a nice restaurant in town. It’s nearly eight p.m. and the place is only half packed – not because it’s a crap restaurant, but because it’s way overpriced.

I’ve been here a bunch of times before with my family – this is our go-to for the big celebratory nights; school graduation days, X’s academy graduation day, X’s promotion, my middle brother’s new job. I know the food here is good, but it’s not a hundred dollars a plate good.

Either way, Brad asked me out – for the fourth time this year – I finally said yes, and here we are.

Passing his keys to the young valet and softly placing his hand on the small of my back, he leads me through the doors with a kind smile. As soon as we step inside, his hand comes to my hip and pulls me comfortably close.

I haven’t been back to the club since that night with Jack, and I haven’t been out with anyone else since. It feels good to have a man’s hand on my hip. Vain or not, Brad has good reason to like his reflection. He’s very handsome, and he’s nice to boot. He’s always smiling, always flirting, always saying nice things.

My previous date refusals had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with me. I just didn’tfeellike it.

Sitting at home with my brothers and eating junk food in front of the TV sounded like more fun, so that’s what I did.

“You look beautiful tonight, Britt. Did I tell you that yet?”

I smile at the feather soft touch of his lips above my ear. “Thank you. I’m excited to be here. This is a nice restaurant.”

Holding me close, he leads me toward a table when the hostess asks us to follow. We move through scattered tables and past noisy patrons, stopping in the back corner where he holds my hand and helps me slide into the candlelit booth.

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