Page 1 of More Than a Blind Date

CHAPTER 1

ROSE

Iflip down the vanity mirror because looking at myself during pep talks ups the impact. I don’t know the science behind it. But it’s true.

But before launching into my speech, I freshen my lipstick. I’ve pretty much chewed off what I applied before leaving the house. It’s possible I’m a tad nervous about tonight.

“Okay, Rose. Forget about how desperate it looks to ask your blind date to pose as your fake fiancé for six months. It is desperate. There’s no getting around it. But you are desperate. Completely. You will not survive the next six months if you don’t have someone to dissuade them from pairing you with Richard. Your sanity will fizzle long before Sage’s wedding. Mom and Dad are dead set on your marrying Richard, and anything short of a fiancé will not deter them. Tonight, you need to leave this restaurant with a ring on your finger.” I tap my pocket to make sure the ring hasn’t fallen out.

The guy doesn’t even have to pitch for a fake ring.

What I choose not to bring up is that a fiancé may not even deter my parents.

Since Richard’s parents and my parents are the best of friends, Mom and Dad think it would be perfect for the childrento marry each other. It doesn’t help that my brother is marrying Richard’s sister. Cara is delightful. I adore her. But I don’t want to marry her brother.

The fact that my parents think they have control of my choices is a problem. But working for the family business complicates things. If I didn’t love the job, I’d quit.

But flowers are my life.

So, I have to tread carefully when setting boundaries. The hard part is that to my parents, boundaries are like the streamer stretched across a finish line. They run right through it, cheering as they go.

Instead of putting my foot down, and completely blowing up my life, I’m trying something different.

I close the mirror and scan the parking lot. Maybe I can get a sneak peek of my date. After striking out on the other dating apps, I tried one without pictures. Yes, I’m that desperate. Even if the guy is unattractive, I’ll still ask. An ugly fake fiancé is better than nobody.

A minivan parks and a man slides out. His wife walks around the car, then takes his hand. So cute. It must be date night. There’s probably at least one car seat in that minivan.

More people walk to the door, but none of them have a rose with them. We agreed that’s what my date would bring so that I’d know who he was. Yes, it’s cliché, but it fits because Rose is literally my name.

A man gets out of a flashy sports car. And in his hand is a red rose. He’s tall, well dressed, and not ugly.

The rose looks like he bought it at a corner store. It does not look like something from a florist, but I’ll just have to forgive him for that.

Surely that’s my date. What are the chances that more than one guy would show up with a rose?

This guy would impress my parents. At least as long as they don’t find out about the corner-store rose. He’s not my type, but at this point, I’m not going to be picky. It’s not like I’m seeking a soulmate. I need a warm body who can smile and maybe hold my hand on occasion.

After seven bombed dates, I will accept almost anyone as my fake fiancé. But who knew that asking a blind date to pretend to be engaged was such a turn off? None of the guys stayed long enough for dessert.

Fingers crossed that tonight will be different.

While I’m psyching myself up and preparing to embarrass myself yet again, a cowboy strides across the parking lot toward the restaurant. That man is my type. Cute with a side of rugged. And his truck is dusty as if it’s spent some time off the pavement. Put flowers in his hand, and I’d be a puddle in the floor. Maybe I should forget the blind date and plead my case to that guy instead.

That wouldn’t be weird at all. Excuse me, Mr. Cute Rugged Cowboy, do you want to pretend with me for the next six months? I can see that going well.

“Focus, Rose. Stay on task.”

After a deep breath, I reach for the handle, then freeze. Tanya is tying on an apron as she walks toward the door. Since when does my cousin work here? I didn’t even know she had a job.

She could complicate my plan for the evening, but I will not give up. As long as she isn’t my waitress, everything should be fine.

Mustering my courage, I march across the parking lot. But I’m not even halfway when one of my flip-flops blows out. I knew I should’ve worn my tennies.

I can either hop into the restaurant on one foot and hope no one mentions the no-shoes, no-service rule, or I can hobble back to my car and fix my shoe.

Fixing seems like the safest option. But how is another question altogether. I slide into my back seat and rummage through my box of supplies. This is the benefit of taking my work home with me.

After glancing at my bright yellow flip-flops, I start to get a vision, and if I work fast, I can be inside and meeting my date in no time. I break off the part of my shoe that is still hanging on. Instead of flip-flops, tonight I’ll be sporting slides. Using purple electrical tape, I create a strap to go over my foot, and then I apply an excessive amount of tape to hold the strip to the shoe. I snap off the sunflower from the discarded part of my shoe and attach the bright yellow silk bloom to my new strap with even more tape.

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