Finding Mr. Right (3 page)

Chapt
er five

Dear Diary,

William Blake Connor thinks I am a maniac. A crazy maniac. He is possibly worried that I am a serial killer and not the other way around. Or he just thinks I am a delusional, crazy freak. On top of being a maniac. Which he has every right to, I suppose. Especially after having received not one, but two kisses from me, and well, totally inappropriate caresses and tidbits of information. I swear that I had no plans of acting like a fool (but then I never do). But when I saw him again, I almost melted. He is even better looking than I remembered. Tall, with a body that is fitter than fit, and dark silky hair just that little bit too long, and eyes like the ocean, an ocean I could swim in for days. But it was his scruffiness that made me melt. He obviously hadn’t had a shave in a couple of days, and he looked sexy. Very, very sexy. And, well, it has been 2 years.

I decided as soon as I arrived at the restaurant that I would pay Blake any monthly charge he was asking for to have him train me. And that if he was actually a CIA operative, I would be willing to risk my life. If of course, it meant that I’d be working on some top-secret case with him. I’d be like a girl Friday to his James Bond. I could certainly do the incognito look, as I had plenty of black t-shirts, leggings, and dark sunglasses. It struck me as I was driving to Lucien’s, the swanky restaurant we had brunch at in Century City, that perhaps meeting Blake was some sort of gift from God. That He had rewarded me with a gorgeous man for going to the gym. And I wasn’t one for looking a gift horse in the mouth.

I saw where Blake was sitting as soon as I walked into Lucien’s. The restaurant was pretty intimate and cozy. As I approached Blake’s table, I noticed Gayle sitting in the corner, her mouth open. I knew she hadn’t expected Blake to be so handsome. I had deliberately left that part out, just to give her a little shock and myself a little thrill. I smiled at her and almost burst into hysterical laughter when I saw Lola’s eyes nearly pop out. But it was when Ben looked at me that I started to feel a little reckless. He gave me a very thorough and appreciative look-over as I was walking to the table, and it made my insides warm.

I have been in love with Ben Bonkers since I started working at We Love to Read. He is funny, intelligent, and gorgeous. We instantly hit it off and became fast friends who go to lunches and happy hours almost every week. He even took to Gayle as well, and the three of us often spend weekends together. Only problem is, Ben is a super flirt and a serial player. His charm gets him almost any girl he wants, and, well, he wants them all. He has had sex with more women in the last year than I ever have with men in my whole life. Ben hasn’t ever asked me out though, and has never tried to get into my pants. I’ve never seen him (well maybe once or twice) look at me with lust in his eyes. It almost makes me mad. Well, it does make me mad. Why doesn’t he ever try it on with me? That’s why I want to blow him away at the fundraiser. I just want to feel like he really notices me. And, well, it would also be nice if he fell in love with me as well.

So, it was with a feeling of joy that I walked over to Blake. I knew I looked pretty good. I had on some new jeans and black pumps, with a nice new silk top that accentuated my bosoms, which were looking pretty perky thanks to my new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra (I was actually slightly worried that the bosoms were on display a bit too much and that I might have a technical difficulty. This was due to the fact that the bra didn’t exactly fit properly and they were barely contained. One odd movement, and they could have come popping out, like a jack-in-the-box).

With all eyes on me, and my adrenaline pumping, I decided to be a little reckless. “Oh, Blake, there you are, darling,” I semi-ran the rest of the way to him and gave him a big hug and kissed him on the cheek. To say he looked taken aback was an understatement. Poor guy. I mentally told myself to include a bonus of 50 dollars in my first payment for the personal training session (I have no idea where any of this money is going to come from. I’ll have to get a second job or something).

I sat down and tried not to look over at Blake to see his reaction. The menus were already on the table, and he picked his up.

“Thanks for coming to brunch with me, Maggie. I know you must be wondering why I asked you...” he started.

“Oh, no. It’s my pleasure,” I gave him a winning smile and laughed loudly.

I could see Gayle, Lola, and Ben doing everything they could to stop themselves from staring at the table. I hoped they were all jealous. I bet they never thought they would see the day when I, Maggie Lane, was on a date with possibly the best-looking man in Los Angeles, and, well, I was thinking they’d have to show me a bit more respect from now on.

I reached over and grasped his hand firmly and spoke up a little louder for my audience. “Of course, I would accept any other invitations you had for me at any time.” Blake looked a bit confused then and stared at our intertwined hands. I realized I was acting a bit over-the-top, blamed my high-school drama days, and quickly dropped his hand.

Glancing through the menu, my heart started to thump. These prices were expensive. I mean, a meal here would pretty much delete my bank account. While Gayle, Lola, and Ben might have been under the impression that I was on a date, I really wasn’t, and honestly, I didn’t know if there was even an understanding or expectation that he would pay for my meal. I mean, he was the one who invited me, but did that mean he had to pay? Argh, the fun and joy I had experienced just minutes before were quickly leaving my body. The realities of the situation were that:

1. I couldn’t afford to buy a meal here.

2. I couldn’t afford to pay for any personal training lessons.

3. I was too lazy to get a second job to pay for personal training lessons.

4. There was no way in hell he was a CIA operative looking to hire me to be a covert spy.

I glanced up and realized that my brain had drifted away and I had not been listening to what Blake was saying. I assumed that he had started his pitch for the personal training lessons. “Look, I need to tell you something,” I whispered. I noticed that Gayle and Lola were taking turns trying to surreptitiously stare at our table. I didn’t want them to hear what I had to say to Blake.

Blake hadn’t heard me and was still talking about something. I decided to grab his hand again to get his attention. “I need to tell you something,” I whispered a little louder while grabbing his hand.

He stopped in mid-sentence. I would have laughed at the expression on his face if it hadn’t been directed at me.

“Blake, I need to tell you something.” I let go of his hand while I had his attention.

“Why are we whispering?” he looked at me, puzzled.

I thought for a second and then moved my chair closer to his. He already thought I was crazy, but Gayle, Lola, and Ben didn’t know that this wasn’t really a date, so I figured I could try and keep one facade up. As I pulled up closer to him, I whispered in his ear, “My friends are sitting in the corner spying on us, because they think we are on a date, and they wanted to give me feedback on our body language, and, well, it’s been 2 years since I’ve been on a date, and I didn’t want them to think I was a loser, and I realize now that lying is bad, but I would really appreciate it if you went along with me on this for the rest of lunch. And, well, I guess I should also tell you that I can’t afford to pay for any personal training sessions, but I am willing to pay for my own brunch today, even though that may bust my bank account. But oh, that’s not your problem.” And then, as I reached back from whispering, I kissed him on the cheek again. Might as well get Ben good and jealous while I still had the opportunity.

I looked up at Blake then to see if he was dreadfully mad. His eyes were dancing, and it looked like he was holding back a laugh. Not the face I was expecting to see.

“Who?” he asked me, looking around the room.

I knew what he was asking. “In the corner, the two girls and the guy.”

“I should have known,” he smiled again, “they’ve been looking over here every couple of minutes and whispering. I assumed they thought we were some sort of Hollywood stars or something,” and he laughed.

He was taking this better than I thought, and, well, I was quite happy that he included me in the Hollywood star part. “Yeah, they are a bit obvious, aren’t they?”

“More than a bit.”

The waiter approached then and asked if we were ready to order. We asked for a few more minutes. Me, because I was debating between something cheap and unfulfilling or something yummy but bank-breaking.

“So, your friends think we are on a date, you think I’m a personal trainer, and your bank account has seen better days, huh?” Blake looked at me and winked.

I nodded my head in shame.

“So, I’m guessing you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since we’ve been here?” he continued.

I nod my head again.

Laughter rippled through his body, and he couldn’t contain himself from letting it out. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. This is just so ironic,” he wiped tears from his eyes.

I didn’t quite know what was going on. Maybe he was a madman after all. Thank God I had my backups here.

“I did wonder about your voicemail the other day, mumbling on about personal training, but I figured you were just trying to let me know you were the girl from the gym.”

“So you’re not a personal trainer then?”

“No, not at all.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t feel quite so bad about not being able to pay for any sessions now. “I should also let you know that I don’t think I will be able to sign up for the CIA at this time,” I decided to tell him now, just in case he tried to bribe me into enlisting because I had completely wasted his time this morning.

“Sign up for the CIA?” he once again looked at me confused. I, of course, decided to babble on anyway.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I just signed a new contract with the nonprofit I work at, We Love to Read, and, well, it’s for 2 years, and the kids really love me, and, well, yeah, I just don’t think I can leave. Legally, you know.”

“Leave the nonprofit to join the CIA, you mean?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s a great honor, but you know, I wouldn’t feel quite right.”

“What if I told you the benefits were amazing and we would double your present salary?” He grinned at me. All I heard was ‘double your present salary’. “Shoot,” I thought, “the kids would understand that part.” And I looked up again to find him laughing again. He was laughing so hard that his head was rocking back and forth and tears were welling up in his eyes. I was slightly annoyed at his laughing at me, but boy was he handsome.

“So let me get this straight. Now that you know I’m not a personal trainer trying to woo you for your money, the money you don’t even have, you think I’m with the CIA trying to recruit you?” he could barely manage to get out the words with all the laughing he was doing.

I was slightly indignant. It wasn’t that much of a stretch that the CIA would be trying to recruit me (okay, so maybe it was, but he didn’t know me well enough to know that). I decided I wasn’t going to dignify his remark by responding to that comment directly.

“So, why is it that you gave me your card then, Mr. Connor?” I attempted to act formally toward him. My pride and ego were slightly hurt, and my stomach was rumbling. There was a Burger King just a few blocks over, and I figured I could just leave now and go through the drive-thru and get a Whopper Jr. and small fries off the 99-cent value meal menu. My bank account could handle that.

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie - you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

I looked at him suspiciously. What was he talking about, ‘haven’t changed’?

“Um, do I know you from somewhere?” Or was he some sort of Internet stalker? Of course. Only a psychopath or someone crazier than me would still be sitting with me at this table after everything I had revealed.

Blake scratched his face and looked at me. He then stuck his tongue out at me and pushed his nose up. Something about his facial expression stirred memories in my brain.

“How’s Chad?”

“Chad, you mean my brother Chad?” I knew it. He was some sort of stalker. He had most probably been watching me for weeks on my way to the grocery store and movie theater. Had he Googled me and found out all my personal information?

“Yeah, Chad ‘crazy hats’ Lane,” he laughed. I thought for a moment and processed. Who was this guy? In all reality, I could have wished to have a stalker as good-looking as him.

“How do you know his nickname?”

“Wow, you really don’t remember me?” he looked at me with a pout.

“Nope, sorry. I’ve never met a Blake before in my life.” I wasn’t about to add that I also would never have forgotten a man as gorgeous as he was.

“What about a William?”

“William? William Connor ... Oh my God, Billy Connor, is that you?” I shrieked. William Connor had been my older brother Chad’s best friend all through elementary school and the first two years of high school, but he had moved junior year, and they had fallen out of contact. Chad and Billy were four years older than me, so I’d never been in the same school as them and basically had to beg them to let me hang around with them and play. But no, this couldn’t be Billy Connor? This gorgeous hunk of a man was my brother’s skinny, acne-ridden friend Billy Connor? No way!