Page 2 of The Boyfriend List
I have a coffee date after work with another guy, then I have to get ready for my best friend’s birthday party and baby shower tomorrow at a winery. It might seem like a strange place to hold a baby shower, but the winery is her husband’s.
My best friend, Raina, is married to Prince Kostas, the second in line to the throne of Dorapolis. Since she got married a few years ago, we haven’t beenas close as we were when we lived together, but I still love her to pieces and cherish every moment we spend together.
London doesn’t protest. As I finish up my workday, doing research for the client I’ll be representing in court next month, his words linger in my mind.
I don’t think you’re going into this with any plan of what you want.
Maybe that’s what I need. A plan.
Relaxing in a royal airplane was the perfect ending to my awful week. I was grateful that Raina and Kostas were kind enough to send a private jet for me to get here. Enduring the ten-hour long flight in coach would’ve been brutal.
But not as brutal as my brief date after work. I had to leave early to make it to the airport anyways. After grabbing Raina’s present and touching up my makeup, I changed out of my work clothes and into a cotton sundress to avoid sweating up a storm in the Dorapolis heat. The jet landed with just enough time for me to finish applying a coat of lipstick before climbing off the plane and into the waiting limo, the driver following behind with my luggage. I’ll be staying at the Dorapolis palace tonight in one of the guest rooms, then leaving two days from now.
Rows of lush green grapevines stretch as far as the eye can see, surrounding the winery. It’s built with sandstone that reminds me of a fairytale castle with grand, arched windows giving a view of the vineyard outside. Other guests are milling about in brightly coloured summer clothes, some I recognize like Kostas’ grandmother, and Helen, Raina’s mother-in-law. Most of the guests in attendance are unfamiliar, aside from Raina’s immediate family.
As I enter Penelope’s Winery, I watch Raina Vasileiou (formerly Aguilar) stride through the room like a queen. Okay, maybe more like a princess, which is technically her title. She’s wearing a breezy white linen dress that cascades over her second-trimester baby bump, and a smile that’s as radiant as the sun shining outside.
I make my way over to Raina and we catch up. When it comes to the topic of our wildly disparate love lives, though, that’s when the conversation turns into an interrogation.
“I know there’s a guy,” Raina says, her brown eyes sparkling as she leans forward slightly, cradling a glass of sparkling apple juice in one hand and her baby bump with the other.
“The date I just had was definitelynotthe guy you’re thinking of,” I say.
“You went on a date this weekend?” Her brows shoot up. “What did he do?”
“He told me he worked in the energy industry. But he was a gas station attendant.”
Raina blinks before bursting out laughing. “Props for being creative.”
“Did you mean the guy who keeps trying to steal my clients and gun for my job? That guy?” The mention of Henry McFayden—a corporate lawyer who’s my former work nemesis—makes me roll my eyes.
“Yes! You have all the ingredients for a workplace rivals romance…”
I shake my head. Raina has been reading too many romance books, because she’s finding too many romcom tropes in real life. “Yes, except he’s married. And I wouldn’t want to have a workplace rivals romance with him anyways. He’s a jerk.”
Henry fortunately traded his corporate law job at our office for a legal position at another firm. He gloated about how much better his new job was on LinkedIn for days.
“What about… What’s his face?” I know Raina is talking about London, but I can’t broach the topic of dating him with a ten-foot pole without having my heart obliterated.
So, I play dumb, hoping she’ll drop it. Though, there’s a bigger chance of the cast ofToddlers in Tiarasplaying tackle football than Raina dropping a topic once she’s sunk her teeth into it. ”Believe it or not, Rain, I can only read your mind ninety-seven percent of the time and this time is one of those three percent instances. I don’t actually know who you’re talking about.”
“The guy you made friends with in university. The one who got you the tank of tropical fish?” She nudges me. “Come on, I know you know who I’m talking about.”
“Oh. Him.” Deep down, I know London Young is more than just a friend. He just doesn’t feel the same way about me. “I just told you, he’s my friend. We’d never date.”
“Sure.” She totally doesn’t believe me.
Trying to change the subject, I compliment the wine that Kostas gave me a few minutes ago. It’s from the winery—of course—and it’s delicious. I down my glass and wave my hand for a waiter to bring me another, based on Raina’s recommendation.
Raina still won’t give up the topic of dating, though, so I give her a lead. “I’m sick of the dates I’ve been on lately. I just had the worst date of my life before I got here so now I’m making a list.”
“Alist?”
“A boyfriend list.” It’s an idea that became fully formed thanks to London’s suggestion earlier. Maybe finding the ideal man based on my boyfriend list will finally put to bed any ideas Raina—or my heart—has about me dating London. “I’m not dating until I meet a guy who can check off everything on my boyfriend list.”
We spend the next half hour compiling the most absurd compendium of qualities for one man to fulfill.
The Boyfriend List
