Page 28 of The Opposite of Romance
“I’m the one who got you a ride,” he sneers, obviously not used to hearing no.
“I’ll make do.” Dropping my napkin onto the table, I stand up from the chair. “Thank you for dinner, Mr. Sterling,” I bite out.
I walk out of that place with the soundtrack of soft classical music and my beating heart. A relieved breath whooshes out of me as I close the door behind me.
I need to get an Uber. I also need to get away from here, in case he leaves, too. Starting left, I notice a burger joint two blocks down.
Fuck, I’m starving.
I order a chicken burger with fries before dialing my sister’s phone.
“The age gap billionaire’s not it,” I say as soon as she picks up.
“Why? What happened?”
“Just scratch him off. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”
“Are the kids asleep?”I ask, dropping my heels as soon as I enter the house.
“Of course. What happened? You got stood up?”
“No. But it might have been better if I was.” I collapse on the couch. “Get me some alcohol. I’m begging you.”
She rushes to the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of tequila and a single shot glass.
“You’re not joining me?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Driving. Now spill.” She pours me a shot and I down it, my face grimacing.
“Mr. Billionaire is a creep.” Her eyes snap up to mine, concerned. “Nothing happened. He didn’t touch me,” I correct myself. “But he was interested in me because he liked the sex scenes in my books and wanted to recreate them with me.”
Her nose wrinkles with disgust. “He told you that?”
“Yup. After he ordered me red wine and foie gras.”
Sandy winces. “How was it?”
“The wine? Disgusting. And I haven’t even touched the food.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that. Especially for your first date after so long. But look on the bright side—it can only go up from here,” Sandy, the eternal optimist, responds.
“Really? Seeing as I’m thinking it could be even worse.” I down another shot before continuing, “Like a creepy guy who’s too cheap to even pay for my ride.”
“At least you wouldn’t be eating foie gras and he’d be all up for ordering you a cheap tequila instead of an expensive red wine.”
I huff a laugh. “I guess you’re right.The funny thing is, I really looked forward to having sex. Maybe not tonight, but soon. Now I’m back to square one.”
“I guess he looked forward to the same thing,” she deadpans, making me snort.
“Maybe he’s sitting at home, drowning his sorrows about not having me.”
Sandy nods profusely. “He should. He definitely should.”
She and I both know that there is a 90% chance that the next victim is already in his bed, enamored by the good looks, or money, or power. I hope he doesn’t hurt her, one way or another.
Chapter Twelve
It’s a gorgeous Saturday morning,so Asher’s outside playing while I finish some chores around the house. Logan is outside, too. He asked me yesterday if he could come to get ahead of the work, and who am I to say no to that?
