Breaking Into the Business (5 page)

“Sounds
like he’s interested in your
other
services,” Pearl said.

“No,”
I shook my head. “He said that he didn’t know what I looked like, and said that
if he had known that I was this beautiful, he never would have asked me to be
his editor. So he just wants to take me on a date.”

“And
you said yes?” Betsy asked.

“Of
course,” I smiled. “Just on the condition that he takes it slow.”

“Oh
no,” Pearl shook her head. “Why did you have to say take it slow? That’s a nail
in the coffin and you haven’t even gone on a date.”

“I’m
just not sure if I’m ready for something serious.”

“It’s
been two years since Frank left,” Betsy pointed out. “You’ve gotten past the
point where you are screaming his name out of hatred and you have certainly
gotten over your love for him. Just what other stage of grieving are you trying
to go through before you start dating again?”

“I
don’t know,” I said. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay,
girl, let me lay it on the line for you,” Pearl said. “Can you handle it?”

“I
don’t know,” I said. Narrowing my eyes, I studied her, trying to figure out
ahead of time just what she was preparing to say to me. I didn’t know if a
night of drinks was the best place for this.

“Okay,
here goes,” Pearl said. She took a deep breath. “You met Frank in high school
and your relationship with him was easy in the beginning. The baby forced you
both together and made you work through all the problems that came along. You
never really had to face the prospect of finding a man and all of that
pre-relationship stuff.”

“What
do you mean?” I asked.

“You
communicate with people easily,” Pearl continued. “But when it comes to talking
to a man in an intimate way, you are clueless. The thought that you could open
yourself up so much to another person scares the hell out of you.”

She
had a point, and I knew it. This all seemed like a lot of fuss over little pay
off though.

“So
why would I even open myself up?” I asked. “Where would all of this lead me
anyways?”

“Honey,
you need some man in your life,” Betsy said. “Don’t ever get to the point where
you are dependent on one, but you still need to experience that feeling of
having a man there, even if it’s fleeting.”

“I
hear you,” I sighed. I knew they were right, but facing that prospect was a
challenge, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle that.

“So
you have to decide when you are ready to change this,” Betsy said. “Let us know
when you are at the point where you think you are ready and we will help you.”

“No,”
Pearl held up a hand. “This girl here has lost the right to decide for herself.
I declare right here, right now that she will talk to a man.”

“But
I did that today,” I said in defense of myself.

“No,
a man talked to you,” Pearl said. “You didn’t have anything to do with that.
You just fell into a situation where a man asked you on a date. But what
happens on the date? My guess is that you will sabotage yourself. You will
either say something or not say something that will cause the date to end in
disaster.”

“Pearl’s
right,” Betsy said. “On paper, this man is perfect, and you have done the
unlikely and had him ask you on a date. Most of us will search a lifetime and
never meet a man like this.”

“So
what does your proclamation mean for me?” I asked. I reached down to my martini
and took another drink. I was nervous now.

“Betsy
and I are going to pick a man tonight,” Pearl said. “Don’t worry, we’ll make
sure he is nice looking. Whichever one we pick, you will have to go to talk to
him.”

“That’s
it?”

“I
don’t mean, just go and say a few things and then come back,” Pearl said. “None
of that crap. You will actually carry on a full conversation and get to know
him.”

“Ugh,”
I growled. “I don’t want to.”

Betsy
chuckled. “And I don’t want a friend who is stuck in a rut like you.”

“I’m
not in ---,” I began. How could I protest any longer? They were right. “Okay, I
give up. Pick this poor sap out.”

“Not
so fast,” Pearl said. “We sit and wait on the right one.”

“Agreed,”
Betsy nodded. “Until then, we enjoy ourselves and have some more beverages.”
She turned and flagged down the waiter and ordered another round of drinks.

“So
let’s change the subject,” I volunteered. “How’s work going, Betsy?”

“I
guess it’s okay,” Betsy said. “Not too bad and not really that good either. I
closed two sales this week.”

Pearl
began waving one of her hands up and down. “Okay, I hate to cut your story
short, honey, but I think I spotted our target.”

I
rolled my eyes and followed the direction of where her finger was pointing. The
first man I saw was a heavyset guy in a red flannel shirt that was tucked in on
one side. His glasses sat crookedly on his large nose and his hair looked as if
it hadn’t been washed in a week.

“Sorry,
I’m not into that guy,” I said. There was no way I was going to talk to that
guy. Deal or no deal, it just wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m
talking about the guy in the blue shirt,” Pearl said.

I
shifted my gaze and managed to find the man who she was talking about. From the
moment my eyes stopped on him, I felt my heart flutter. He was possibly the
most beautiful man I had ever seen. His brown hair swept back from his
forehead, but wasn’t too long. I couldn’t see his face from that distance, but
from what I could tell, he seemed good looking. I could see that he was slender
in the waist, and had muscular arms that I could see through the sleeves.

“Okay,”
I nodded. “He’s good looking.”

“See,”
Pearl smiled. “I will always take care of you, honey.”

“Now
go and talk to him,” Betsy urged her on.

“But
what do I say?”

“That’s
for you to figure out,” Pearl smiled.

I
set my drink on the table and stood up from my stool. I rubbed my upper arm in
a futile attempt to calm frayed nerves, but it didn’t do any good. I had this
sinking feeling that I was walking into the lion’s den.

Chapter Five

The bar
had already begun to pick up in the short time since my arrival. With only two
drinks down, I still didn’t have that carefree feeling that most of the other
patrons apparently had. I crossed over the dance floor as that was the quickest
route to the man I was being forced into talking to. Only a few people littered
the dance floor as it was still too early in the night, but I felt as if the
entire bar were watching me walk.

As
I drew closer to my prey, I saw that he was not actually talking to anyone, but
simply standing there at the bar, staring off in the direction of the
bathrooms, holding a beer in his right hand. He had that look as if he was
waiting on someone else.

When
I approached him, he turned and looked at me. I was taken aback at just how
good looking he was up close. His strong jaw and cheekbones were that much more
defined by the brown stubble across his face. His eyes were a penetrating blue
that gazed back at me as if he were undressing me. I suddenly felt naked and
defenseless as he stared at me.

“Hello,”
he said.

When
he smiled, I saw his perfect straight, white teeth. Damn, was there anything
wrong with this guy?

“Hey
there,” I said, doing my best to sound flirty. I pulled up beside him at the
bar and added, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Of
course not,” he said. “Because then I would owe you something. But I will buy
you a drink.”

“And
I will let you.”

“What
are you having?”

“A
beer will do.” I didn’t normally drink beer when I went out, but I wanted to
keep my wits about me if I were going to talk to a guy.

“A
woman who drinks beer?” he grinned. “You are a rare and exquisite one.”

“Thank
you,” I said. I thought I would have to fake a smile, but realized that the
expression just seemed to come.

He
leaned over the bar and asked the bartender for two beers. I stepped back a
minute and took a chance to size him up. I hadn’t realized how tall he was – at
least a few inches over six feet. His arms were even bigger than I thought and
his pectoral muscles strained against his shirt. And what a great fit that
shirt was, because as it flowed down, it tapered inwards so that I could see
his flat stomach.

The
bartender brought the beers back and he handed one to me. With his beer, he
lifted an arm as if to toast with me.

“To
beautiful women that approach you in a bar,” he said.

I
returned the toast. “And to the kind gentlemen who spare enough money to buy
women a drink.”

He
laughed. “That was clever.”

“I
try to be.”

“Well,
it seems effortless from where I’m standing.” He stepped back, dragged a stool
up near the bar and patted the seat for me.

“Thank
you,” I said as I took the seat.

“My
name is Greg,” he said. “May I ask your name?”

“Lana,”
I said.

He
shifted his body down the bar and towards me a little. Body language is an
important action that I always paid attention to and Greg excelled at all of my
tests. He kept one arm on the bar to hold his beer and the other was perched on
the side of his hip. Ever so slightly, he leaned in towards me, but not too
close to make the exchange uncomfortable. His eyes never left mine, and while
any other time, I would have found this grossly awkward, I couldn’t get enough
this time. He could stare at me forever with those sapphire eyes.

“So
what line of work are you in?” he asked me.

“I’m
an editor for a publishing company,” I said. The minute the words left my mouth,
I regretted it. What a conversation killer. There was nothing else to say about
my profession and I could just imagine him fleeing in boredom-terror.

“That
sounds interesting,” he said, but I knew he was faking it.

“You’re
just being nice,” I told him.

“No,
it really sounds interesting.”

“So
what do you do?” I asked him.

“I’m
an entrepreneur,” Greg said. There was something strange about the way he said
that word.

“That’s
kind of vague,” I replied.

“I
have my hands in a lot of stuff,” he said. “But I don’t like talking about my
work when I meet someone new.”

“No
problem,” I said.

So
what the hell was she supposed to talk about? Her job was dreadfully dull bar
conversation, and he refused to talk about his.

“So
who are you here with?” he asked me.

“Two
friends of mine,” I said. I turned and pointed across the dance floor in their
direction. I looked at them for the first time since coming over here, and both
of them were staring right back at me.

When
he turned to look, both Pearl and Betsy held their drinks up and screamed. I
could have curled into a ball.

“They
seem fun,” he said.

“They
are loads of fun,” I said.

“That
sounded sarcastic,” he noted.

“Okay,
I have to tell you something, because for me it’s like the elephant in the
room,” I said. I needed to come clean just for my own conscious. “I haven’t
been on a date in forever and I’m really bad at talking to men. My friends saw
you and basically forced me to come over here.”

“So
you didn’t want to?” he asked.

“Not
at first,” I replied. “But it has nothing to do with you as a person. It’s just
the idea of doing this.” I waved my hand to indicate both of us. “I’ve never
done anything like this before.”

“It’s
not that bad,” he said. I noticed that his arm rose a little off of the bar and
he slid just an inch closer to me. “It’s like riding a bike.”

“I
wouldn’t say that,” I smiled. “I’m sorry if all of that came out wrong. Now
that I’m here talking to you, I feel a lot better.”

“Do
you?” Greg asked suspiciously.

“No,”
I shook my head. “Not really. I’m still mortified. I think it’s the fact that
you’re so good looking.”

“Why
would that make you uncomfortable?” he asked. “It sounds to me like you don’t
realize how incredibly attractive you are.”

“You’re
just saying that.”

“No,
I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t say this to just anyone, but you really are very
beautiful. In fact, I should be the one who is nervous.”

I
chuckled. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who gets nervous.”

“Not
really,” he said. “But I do know something that might make you less nervous.”

“What?
Five more beers?”