Shay's POV
Blind dates are the death of me.
No matter how many I've been on or how many guys my mother has set me up with, I still don't have a compelling reason to meet someone on a blind date. The guys aren't the problem; I'll admit that some of them have been good-looking and fun to talk to, but I'm just not into any of them.
It's not that my standards are too highâI just haven't met the right one yet.
But being in a relationship isn't part of my long-term plan right now. Maybe once I move out of my parents' house and start living my own life, I'll consider dating someone who loves me for who I really am rather than for my family background.
As soon as the car stopped in front of the salon, my phone started ringing inside my purse. I pulled it out and sighed when I saw "Mom" flashing on the screen.
"Hello, Mom."
"Are you at the salon yet?" she asked. I rolled my eyes and glanced out the window.
Of course, she'd call just to make sure I was really here.
"Yes, I've just arrived," I replied.
"Good. Remember, he's waiting at that nice restaurant with the fountainâyou know, the one we went to last week?"
"Yes, I remember, Mom."
"Okay, then. Get your hair and makeup done with Ella and call me when you're on your way home."
I ended the call, leaned back in the car seat, and stared outside for a moment. Getting married is the last thing I want right now, let alone to someone I don't even know. If I'm going to get out of this one like I have the others, I guess my usual trick will work just fine.
I stepped out of the car, made my way into the salon, and asked for EllaâShanelle's and Mom's go-to hairdresser and makeup artist. After getting my makeup and hair done, I got back in the car, and the driver took me to the restaurant.
It was more like a huge, fancy plaza with famous restaurants on each floor. The one I was heading to was on the fifth floor, so I took the elevator. Just as I pressed the button for the fifth floor, the man next to me pressed for the sixth.
It was awkward making eye contact and exchanging polite smiles, especially because he was probably the most handsome stranger I've ever seen.
I stole another glance at him and noticed his perfectly styled hair and sleek black Armani suit. From my angle, his side profile alone told me he wasn't just good-lookingâhe probably had money too.
I quickly looked away, took a deep breath, and decided to ignore the hot stranger. I unclipped my hair, ran my fingers through it, and did a quick lipstick touch-up before stepping off the elevator.
Inside the restaurant, I spotted the guy Mom had describedâdeep blue suit, just as promised. I walked over, and before he could stand to greet me, I pulled out the chair and sat down.
He chuckled, glancing down for a moment before meeting my gaze.
"Chase Evans, right?" I asked.
He nodded with a smug smile. "Correct. And you must be my future wife."
I nodded back, folding my arms and crossing my legs as I gave him a good once-over.
One thing was certain: he was too handsome, and for a moment, I felt guilty about what I was about to do.
"Before we start getting to know each other, let me make one thing clearâyou're not my type," I said.
He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense.
"Ouch."
"Second," I continued, leaning forward, "I don't know how to cook, and I have no intention of learning. I hate doing laundry and house chores; I'd rather hire maids. Shopping is a daily activity for me, and I find cats so creepy I'd probably cheat on you before living with one. Clubbing on Friday nights with my friends is non-negotiable. So, if I were you, I'd reconsider this whole thing right now."
He stared at me for a long moment, then chuckled. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Thanks for letting me know," he said coolly. "But I'd already reconsidered marrying you before I walked into this restaurant."
I exhaled a relieved breath and smiled at him for the first time.
"So, you also think this was a terrible idea?"
He nodded and stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah. But you could've just said so at the start."
He reached over and tipped the glass of water in front of me, spilling it all over my skirt and blouse.
"What the hell?!" I shouted, jumping up.
He smirked, narrowing his eyes.
"And that's for lying to me. I don't like liars."
I watched, stunned, as he casually walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of a busy restaurant while nearby diners gawked.
Clenching my fists, I stormed toward the restroom. I swear, if I ever see that jerk again, I'll kick him so hard in the balls he'll regret ever meeting me.
Jason's POV
"I'm breaking up with you."
Becca stared back at me with a clear, confused expression on her face. I couldn't tell if she was faking it, just like the amazing, award-winning actress she is.
"You're kidding, right?" she asked.
I shook my head once and pretended to check my watch.
"Look, I have to go. I have a meeting in an hour."
She chuckled, placing her fork and knife slowly on the table.
"What? You're breaking up with me, and now you're leaving for a stupid meeting?!"
I ignored her, signaled the waiter for the check, and drank the last of the wine left in my glass.
"Look, I had a great time with you, Becca. But right now, I just need a break, that's all."
She glared at me, then moved her arm to the side, knocking her wine glass onto the floor. It shattered loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.
"Bullshit! I know the real reason you wanted to go out with me, Jason, and don't you dare deny it. So what? You finally got your revenge? You didn't actually like meâyou just wanted to get back at my father's company because he didn't give you what you wanted."
I forced a tight-lipped smile and folded my arms.
"You're right. It was for revenge. And I finally got what I wanted. So, expect the guys from the Federal Bureau of Investigation at your father's office tomorrow morning. Apparently, someone's been dealing in the dark again."
Her eyes wavered. Just then, the waiter arrived with the check and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. I reached for my wallet, placed a wad of cash on the table, stood up, and left.
Finally. Thank God that's over.
I took the elevator down, and when it stopped on the fifth floor, I was surprised to see her againâthe girl I met earlier in this same elevator. Something seemed off about her now.
Damp stains covered the front of her top and skirt, her hair was disheveled, and she looked weird, a far cry from the lively expression she had earlier.
The first thought that came to mind was that she must've been in some kind of trouble.
I let her step out first, then followed slowly, my eyes fixed on her as she walked with her head down and shoulders slumped. At first, I was just curious. Now, it was bugging meâand maybe, just maybe, I was a little attracted to her.
She kept walking, her head still down, until she bumped into another woman, dropping her purse. Its contents spilled out onto the ground.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry," she said repeatedly, bending down to gather her things before rushing out of the building, as if she couldn't stand to be here any longer.
Something caught my eye, glinting under the light. I bent down and picked it up.
It was a bracelet. A delicate piece with a few charms and two pretty silver initials dangling from it: S & F.
It didn't take me long to realize this likely belonged to her. These were probably the first letters of her name. If I ran now, I could still catch up to her and return it.
But I stopped myself.
I held the bracelet in my hand and stared at it for what felt like a full minute. It wasn't that I wanted to keep it for myself and never return itâit was just a feeling.
A feeling that I might see her again.
And when I do, I'll return it for sure.