Page 33 of It's Not PMS, It's You
“I want you to be happy and in love and have something in your life besides work and me.Someonespecial.” She reached across the desk and squeezed my hand. “The only thing I have is hope for you.”
“If you make me cry again, you’re fired.”
“Right . . .” She typed a few things on her computer and smiled. “Okay, I just sent a message to try to change the date to lunch instead of dinner.” She stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll make myself another cup of coffee while we wait to see if Barney responds.”
I took a sip of my coffee and almost spit it out. “Wait!”
Dee stopped and turned around.
“Barney?”
“Yeah, that’s the chef’s name.”
“Barney? Really?”
Dee leaned against the doorframe. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Is the guy a hundred years old?”
“He’s forty-two and I really don’t see an issue here.”
“Well, I do. There’s no way I will be able to look at a man named Barney with a straight face when all I’m thinking of is a purple dinosaur. Please tell me he has a nickname that I can use instead of Barney.”
She took a step toward me and held up her index finger. “He does, actually! His friends call him B.J.”
I winced. “That’s even worse. Do youknowwhat that stands for?”
“Barney Junior.”
“Not even close. Wait, if he is Barney Junior that means there are two of them.”
“Do you have a thing against BJs? Maybe I need to put that in your profile.”
I pointed to the door. “Go get your coffee, would ya?’
Dee laughed. “Don’t be quick to judge. Give him a chance.”
Was I being too picky with the names? After what had happened to me on that plane, all I wanted was to meet a decent man. I knew that much. I also knew that if he did nothing for my mind and my libido, I was going toadióshim in a heartbeat.
Chapter Eight
RUTH
Barney and I were seated outside on the patio at Jake’s restaurant under an umbrella just inches from the sand on Powerhouse Beach. We had already ordered lunch, the waiter had just brought us our drinks, and we were ready to engage in a little getting-to-know-you conversation to see if we connected on some level.
It was a gorgeous day and the beach was alive with activity. There were sunbathers, surfers, people playing volleyball, and kids building sandcastles.
Even though I came into the date with a little trepidation, I had to admit that my attitude had changed when Barney walked into the restaurant, looking like a young Hugh Grant.
Okay, maybe I could figure out a way to like the name Barney after all, since the man was a chef, a restaurant owner, and looked good enough to eat. Hopefully, he had a personality to match because his good looks were only going to get him so far.
The waiter returned and placed an order of fried calamari on our table that we didn’t order. “Compliments of the chef.”
“Thank you.” Barney winked at me. “It pays to know people. Then, if you work the system right, you butter them up, and ride the gravy train to free calamari on the house. Works like a charm every time.”
If he thought a free appetizer was going to impress me, he was dreaming. Plus, he just admitted that he kissed people’s butts to get free things.
Don’t be quick to judge. Give him a chance.
