Page 55 of Chasing Storm
STORM
Climbing out of the taxi outside my parents’ massive house near the park, I wobble slightly on my high, thin heel but steady myself when I place my other foot down and gulp. I am nervous about this blind date but also a bit excited. I haven’t heard anything from JP and the guys since the karaoke night, so I’m guessing that maybe they’ve moved on.
Fine.
I will too.
I knew they would get bored, and that is why I didn’t let them in.
Only, I did sort of, and it’s upsetting to know that I shouldn’t have.
Mum is waiting for me with a smile when I push open the front door, probably peeking through the windows to see me arrive.
She gives me a once-over with an approving nod and leads me into the dining room, where I nearly burst out laughing. When she said ‘luncheon’, I thought she was being a sophisticated, posh older lady, but she seriously meant it. I think they call this High Tea in places like Harrods.
I blink when I take in the men, already assembled like good little boys, dressed in smart shirts and pants.
I recognise one of them and focus on him with a small smile.
“Storm, this is Anthony Edwards, Micheal Jones and Phil Wilson.”
“Hi,” I say awkwardly and move forward as my mum gives me a gentle shove. They are all really good-looking and friendly enough. The one who my mum introduced as Anthony, takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. I feel a slight shiver at the gallantry but nothing more.
He is…basic. I don’t like thinking that because they all seem really lovely and friendly, but when we sit down, I feel like I’m wasting my time. Their faces aren’t memorable to me. When I think about JP, Thatcher and Josh, I can describe their appearance in vivid detail. I don’t know what that means, but it has to mean something.
Right?
After about ten minutes of idle chit-chat, I can’t stand this a moment longer. These guys are just not cutting it for me.
“Will you excuse me, please?”
“Of course,” Anthony says with a smile.
I return it and make my way slowly out of the room, so I don’t look like I’m making the Great Escape.
I find my mum and dad talking in earnest, hushed tones in the living room.
Dad looks up and smiles, coming over to give me a hug and a kiss. “Miss you, Stormy, but I’ve got to go. Please come back and live with us, this house is too empty.”
“You assume I’m not getting together with any of these guys,” I point out.
“Hah,” he says with a knowing laugh. “I know you too well. They aren’t for you.”
Mother snickers as well, making me laugh. “So why them?”
“Okay, you’ve got me. My first choices weren’t available.” Her eyes cloud over momentarily. “But this isn’t about finding you a man right now, more like showing you the B-team so that the A-team will knock your socks off.”
I nod. “Well, I guess I’m looking forward to meeting the A-team then.”
I’m only saying it to appease her. I know after this whomyfirst choice is, but I need to get up the guts to admit it out loud. Right now, it’s floating around in my head, poking at me to yell it from the rooftops, but I can’t. Not yet.
“Gotta go,” Dad says, and with a wave, he rushes off.
“Me too,” I say, chewing my lip. “Do you mind?” I point back to the dining room.
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
I nod and slip out into the entrance hall, tiptoeing, so my heels don’t clack on the expensive, white marble tile.
