Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Whose place is this anyway?” Daphne asks, using the mirrored surface of the elevator to check her teeth for lipstick stains.
“Some tech mogul. He’s the one who got Josh and Dustin to invest in that baseball app that took off last year. He’s apparently pretty nice. The guys like him. I don’t know… I was told there’s going to be catered food and an open bar so I didn’t ask too many questions.”
“Sold,” I tease with a wink. “And who knows? If the tech guy is hot, maybe he’ll be the one I hook up with tonight.”
I’m talking out of my ass, mostly just stringing them along at this point. I’m not going to hook up with someone just to complete a dare. Sure, I could use a little action. It’s been…a while since I’ve had sex, and Sophia and Daphne have clearly caught on to that fact. However, I’m not a love ’em and leave ’em kind of girl. I’m the exact opposite. I consider all things from all sides, contemplate every side effect and consequence. I read the fine print. Hence why my friends think I need a silly dare to jumpstart my love life, but they’re wrong.
I’ll admit, I’m partly to blame for this misunderstanding. For the better part of the last few years, I’ve been focused on my career. Graduating with my nursing degree and establishing myself as an RN took precedence in my life probably for a little too long, but now seeing my brother happily engaged and knowing Sophia’s not far from the altar herself has been a big wakeup call. I have to shift gears. I love love as much as the next gal! I want a boyfriend! I even think I’ve figured out exactly what I’m looking for in a partner. Why is that important? Oh, simple. The idea of letting the universe orchestrate my love life seems absolutely ludicrous. Leaving room for fate? No ma’am. Spontaneity? Never heard of her.
My plan for my perfect guy includes (but is not limited to) the following criteria. Obviously, we’ve established that he can’t play baseball. Outside of that, I’d like him to be kind; smart; attentive; a hard worker; tall; handsome; someone who can sleep on the left side of the bed because I prefer the right; someone who gets along with my friends, but not like too well, not in a creepy way; dog lover; brunch lover; book lover; and for brevity’s sake, I’ll skip past a fair number of other requirements to emphasize that he must, most importantly of all, make me feel safe and steadfast in our relationship.
It’s really not that much! There are probably ten guys at this party who could fit the bill. For all I know, hot tech guy himself could be my soul mate!
We discuss him on the way up to the top floor. Well…Daphne discusses him, and by discuss, I mean she chants “Hot tech guy! Hot tech guy! Hot tech guy!” like she’s a frat bro about to do a keg stand.
When the elevator stops and the doors sweep open, we arrive in an ultramodern apartment. It’s so blindingly white that I feel bad walking on the marble floor in my boots.
A large foyer gives way to a living room filled with art and décor and people. People! I sigh in relief. Scanning the crowd, I see a lot of unfamiliar faces. In fact, I don’t see any of our friends. A rare occurrence, for sure.
“Come on,” Sophia says. “Josh said he’s here somewhere.”
We stick together, moving through the crowd, looking for Josh. But oops, would you look at that? We land at the bar instead and take our time perusing a custom cocktail list.
“Ooo, I might get a French martini.”
Daphne’s not even looking at the cocktail list. She’s leaning back against the bar, watching the crowd.
“Found him,” Daphne proclaims proudly.
“Josh?” I ask, trying to follow her line of sight.
“No. I found the hottest guy here.”
I eye her skeptically. “How do you do that so fast?”
She shrugs, nonchalant about it. “It’s a gift.”
I shouldn’t indulge her, but I’m mildly curious. Daphne has good taste. “Where is he?”
“Over in the corner, near the glass windows. He’s talking to two other guys. Ignore them—they aren’t important.”
Her instructions make it easy for me to find the person she’s referring to quickly enough. Glass windows in the corner…three men talking…then wham. The sight of him hits me like a Mack truck.
Wow, she’s good. He’s without a doubt the hottest guy at this party. How do I know? Because he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Tall, tan, clearly in shape. He has luxuriously thick black hair and a sharp jawline. His full lips say, Kiss me. His sultry eyes say, If you dare.
Before I fall deeper into his devastating good looks, I turn away and accept my drink from the bartender.