Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series (5 page)

Chapter 6

          
My time at the bakery flew by, throwing together a few
birthday cakes, nine dozen cookies, and some other assorted pastries. While we
worked I had to confess the details to Addie about the night before, especially
since I was late that morning. She knew something was up right away because I
usually beat her in to the bakery every single morning. I explained my first
meeting with Greyson at the art gallery, and how I still wasn’t sure if I was
even into this guy yet.

          
“He just really gets under my skin, you know? It’s like he
knows he’s irresistible, which apparently he is since he duped me into going
home with him. But I just don’t know what this guy wants,” I told Addie. She
was such a good listener and never seemed to judge me for my apparent impulsive
actions. “I mean, I don’t think I even know two things about this guy, and then
bam, I’m watching his roommate eat Lucky Charms in his underwear the next
morning. What am I doing?”

          
“I don’t know Mallory, but why does this have to be such a
bad thing? So a handsome guy wants to take you to dinner even though you asked
him to love you better than your ex-boyfriend while you were making out. If
that doesn’t scare a guy away,” she said playfully.
 

          
“Well speaking of my ex, Dillon did kind of make a good
point. I am really busy with the bakery, so it’s true that I don’t really have
time to get involved with someone right now,” I said, packaging up all of the
desserts we made.

          
“But if anyone understands that, don’t you think he would?
I mean, he runs a business kind of similar to yours so he must be just as
busy,” Addie replied optimistically.

          
“Great, so maybe if we’re too busy to ever see each other,
we’ll be together forever,” I said sarcastically. “Or maybe he’ll piss me off
all over again during our dinner conversation with his arrogant prowess and
I’ll end up throwing my glass of wine at him before our meal is over.” I really
wasn’t too confident things would end up well tonight. Greyson was so
unnerving, and I just wasn't sure I could handle him.

          
We finished baking and cleaning up all of the counters
around six o’clock, so I was glad to have at least an hour to get ready. I
didn’t want it to look like I put too much effort into my look, but at the same
time I also felt like I had to get it all right. A guy as attractive as Greyson
probably dated lots of beautiful women. Granted, according to his roommate he
never brought them home. Or conversely, maybe I was just easier than all the
others. What a way to start out a relationship, or whatever this thing was.

          
I carefully applied my make-up, accentuating the colors
around my hazel eyes. I curled my hair, happy to note it looked drastically
better than it did in a tousled mess when I left his apartment this morning. I
opted for a black fitted top with a loose ruffly white skirt. It made my legs
look tan and went well with my slender five-foot-eight frame. It was a little
less casual than a dress, but showed more effort than a pair of jeans.

          
Satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my clutch purse
and headed out of my apartment around ten after seven. I purposely chose La
Luna because it was only a few blocks from my apartment so I could walk. That
felt much nicer to me on a beautiful summer evening rather than getting in my
car to drive somewhere.

          
The restaurant was crowded, but Greyson was easy to spot
near the hostess area with his tall muscular build and blonde hair. I smiled as
soon as I saw him, then quickly reminded myself that I still wasn’t all too
sure as to why I was here. I guess saying no to this guy was becoming a little
more difficult after our bonding on the patio this morning. It slightly ticked
me off that he was such a gentleman about the situation last night. If he would
have handled it like most other guys would have, he would be so much easier to
walk away from.

          
Greyson walked towards me and gently laid his hand around
my shoulders onto my upper back. He smelled amazing as he leaned in to kiss my
cheek.

          
“You look beautiful, Mallory. I’m really glad you came. I
was a little nervous you might stand me up again,” he said with a boyish grin.

          
“I would never stand someone up for a date I’ve actually
agreed to,” I touted back. “I didn’t realize it would be so busy tonight. We
may have to wait awhile for a table.”

          
“Greyson, right this way sir,” a young perky hostess said,
eyeing Greyson as we walked. She led us to a small booth towards the back of
the restaurant.

          
“Wow, are you a regular here or something? That was
awfully quick service. Let me guess, you know the hostess and she adores you,”
I said dramatically.

          
“Not exactly. I actually just called in earlier and made
reservations. That hostess girl was, like, nineteen. Do you really think I’m
that guy?” he asked, looking amused by this conversation.

          
“How would I know? I’ve only spoken to you for about six
minutes total since I met you. I don’t even know how old you are,” I responded,
reaching for a glass of water the hostess set down on our table.

          
“So you’re interested in getting to know me then,” he said
confidently.

          
“I haven’t made up my mind on that yet,” I rebuffed.

          
“Well, I’ll save you some time thinking about it then. I’m
twenty-eight, raised by a single mother after losing my dad in Desert Storm.
She owns a small breakfast diner in Reno. I majored in accounting, but quickly
realized that was the most boring path I could have ever chosen in life, so I
took a sabbatical of sorts. That’s basically just a fancy way of saying I kind
of freaked out not knowing what to do with my life. So, I grabbed a backpack
and traveled around the country, hiking, camping, trying to ‘find myself’ if
that’s really such a thing. I think I just wanted to be irresponsible and
adrift for awhile. Anyway, I grew up helping my mom out in her diner so I was
always a pretty good cook. Then it just hit me one day that I wanted to open up
my own catering business. That way I could cook when I wanted without the chain
around my foot of opening up my own restaurant. That was a couple years ago,
and business has been pretty good since I started.”

          
“Wow, your life story. That’s helpful. You seem relatively
normal,” I said, eyeing him cautiously. “But I’m sure there’s more to it,
right? How about your love life? That's what women really want to know about
when they meet someone. Perhaps there was one girl who led you astray, or some
great romance story along the way. What about those? Any serious relationships?
Where's the crazy? Let’s get to the good stuff,” I mused.

          
"Wow, you're getting right into it. Isn't that more
like fourth date conversation?" he responded.

          
"I'm still not convinced there will be a date
two," I replied speculatively. "So we may as well just get all of
this stuff out now."

          
“Well, there were a few girls, sure,” he responded
honestly. “But none of those are good stories. I've never been great at the
whole relationship thing. I’ve always been a sucker for tragedy. You know those
girls who are damaged with lots of issues. I always felt like I should save
them, when really the entire relationship was a train wreck from the beginning.
I’ve really never been good at the whole dating thing.”

          
“Whoa, so that’s why you were drawn to me? You think I’m
damaged?” I said, only half-sarcastically.

          
“No, just the opposite. You actually seem to have your
life put together. The kind of girl I actually
should
be with,” he said,
staring at me with his smoldering blue eyes.
 

          
“I’m not so sure about that,” I muttered quietly.

          
“What about you? Where’s the boyfriend you mentioned last
week when I met you in the alley? Any chance he’s the one you brought up last
night before you passed out?”

          
“Well, he broke up with me the morning I met you,
actually,” I replied, hoping not to get into the details. “I really suck at the
whole relationship thing too.”

          
“That’s not possible. You seem like the kind of girl who
would be good at anything you tried,” he answered sincerely.

          
“He told me I was completely unlovable,” I blurted out,
shrugging.

          
“A guy actually said that to you? That seems a little
harsh.” Greyson took a sip of his water.

          
“That’s what I thought. But maybe he had a point. Maybe
I’m just not really the kind of girl to love,” I said, trying to speak
objectively.

          
“Oh no. Don’t you even think about agreeing with him on
that. Then you
will
be damaged and I’ll have to fall in love with you
out of spite,” he replied, lightening the mood.

          
The waitress came by to take our orders.

          
“Don’t you want to look at the menu first, Mal?” Greyson
asked politely.

          
“I’ll have the shredded chicken platter, extra sour cream,
no guacamole but a couple of limes on the side,” I said to the waitress. I
looked back at Greyson. “I get the same order at every restaurant I go to. I’m
not exactly spontaneous in that regard. Once I find a good thing, I stick with
it.”

          
“In that case,” Greyson looked up at the waitress, “make
that two.” The waitress took our menus and walked away. Greyson’s blue eyes
sparkled as he stared at me, and I knew I was quickly losing all will power I
had if I really expected to leave here alone.

          
“Look Greyson, what are we doing here? I mean, last night
was fun. My vague memories of it anyway, minus any conversation we had of
course. But I just don’t see how this will go anywhere. I told you, I suck at
relationships. But I’m not a casual friends-with-benefits kind of girl either,
despite what impression you got from me going home with you last night. If
we’re both terrible at making relationships work, maybe we should just eat our
food and then go our separate ways. You know, before anything gets too
involved. I’m actually kind of okay with being unlovable. It works for me in a
weird way. I’m not looking to be saved from that.”

          
“You’re not unlovable, Mallory. That’s impossible. You
said last night while we were talking that your parents are still married,
right? So at least you were raised with a good example of that type of thing.
My mom never even dated after my dad passed. She always said she was a hopeless
romantic and couldn’t go through it all again. So I never witnessed a normal
long-lasting relationship like you have,” he said somewhat nostalgically. “So
you at least have an upper hand there. You’ve seen it work.”

          
“Well yeah, my parents are still married. But they didn’t
exactly have a conventional 'get to know each other and fall in love' story.
They actually met on a blind date and got married three weeks later. Who does
that? So many other people, they date for years first and then they can’t make
a bigger commitment work. How could anyone know they found the right person
after just three weeks? I’ve never understood that,” I said, shaking my head.
“Honestly, after all the dating I’ve done, and yes, I’ve had my fair share… the
facts of their romance baffle me more and more as I get older. I’m telling you,
it’s me. I’m just bad at relationships.”

          
“Well, if we both suck at relationships, then maybe we
should try something different. You know, find a way to make something work for
us as we are.” His eyes looked deep into mine, though I couldn’t read them.

          
“What do you suggest?” I asked with amusement.

          
“Well, we’re both relatively successful when it comes to
our businesses, right? So I have a proposal for you.”

          
“A proposal?" I responded curiously. "I'm pretty
sure that word should be forbidden on a first date. How do you have an answer
for everything?"

          
"Just hear me out, Mallory," he replied. The
corner of his mouth turned up into a smile.

          
"That grin on your face looks like trouble. This
should be good.”

Chapter 7

          
The waitress brought our food and I eyed Greyson
suspiciously.

          
“Why do you think you suck at relationships?” he asked.

          
“I thought you had a proposal,” I responded.

          
“Right, I’m getting to that. Answer the question,” he said
smiling.

          
“Well, it probably
is
me. I guess I’m just not good
at changing who I am for someone. I hate having to worry about what they want
from me, you know? I wish I could just have what
I
wanted, but I know it
doesn’t work that way,” I replied honestly.

          
“Exactly. So what if you could choose the kind of
relationship you ultimately wanted? What if all the wants and needs and
expectations were laid out like bullet points. Like a business contract,” he
said, raising an eyebrow. He paused, waiting for my response.

          
“Oh no, I’ve read those books. A relationship contract,
red rooms, and flogging, whatever that is. That is so not my style,” I said
vehemently shaking my head.

          
“Flogging? What are you talking about?” he asked, looking
quite perplexed.

          
“Never mind. I’m kind of glad you have no idea what I’m
talking about. Just continue, what do you have in mind? What are you getting
at?”

          
“Well, what do you want from someone? Like if you could
make a list of the things you absolutely wanted from someone, what would you
pick?” Greyson stared at me curiously.

          
“Well, I don’t know. I would probably have to think about
it. But that’s not really fair. I mean, what about you? What do you want?” I
asked, intrigued by what he had in mind.

          
“What if we each wrote down some things. We can do it on
the back of our napkins,” he said, pushing a paper La Luna napkin towards me. “We
can each write down a few things that would make a person our ideal
relationship partner.”

          
“I’m listening,” I replied, giving him my full attention.

 
         
“Then,
as long as there are no deal breakers, we could give it like a month or two. Or
hell, how about three weeks. Somehow your parents knew in three weeks, so it’s
possible, right? That way it’s not so much time that were deeply invested, but it's
enough time to at least roll the dice on this idea to see if it works. So we
just spend three weeks giving the other person their ideal relationship. And
then at the end of the three weeks if one of us wants to go our separate way,
fine, no hard feelings. But at least for a few weeks we’ll each get a perfect
relationship. Then we can’t claim we suck at relationships anymore,” he said
shrugging.

          
“So really, you’ll be Mr. Right for me for three weeks?
And then if you still make me crazy, I can just walk away? No questions asked?
No dramatic break-up?” I asked skeptically. I had to admit, something about his
idea intrigued me. A guy who finally cared what I wanted? Who was willing to
just lay it all out there right from the beginning? I wondered if this could
actually work.

          
“What do you think?” Greyson asked, amused at my interest
in the idea.

          
“So, like a business contract, but for a relationship? It
sounds mechanical and completely
not
romantic. But yet, in a weird way,
it kind of makes sense to me,” I responded, mulling it all over in my head.
Did
I even know what I really wanted from someone?

          
“Think about it.
Relationships really are like a business transaction. I mean sure, all that
‘love’ stuff, but there has to be some mutual agreements going on for it to
actually work, right? Some boundaries, expectations, that kind of thing. So
many people get married just to find out they wanted kids and the other person
didn’t or they wanted to move out of state and the other person wanted to stay
put. So those relationships just fall apart, or someone ends up unhappy at the
very least,” he explained matter-of-factly. He was quite convincing as he
spoke. “And not that this relationship has to be
that
serious, but we’re
both busy, right? And relationships don’t work out for us. But maybe if we just
put what we want on the table now, then there’s less room for error. We wouldn’t
have to waste time trying to figure out what the other person wanted or
expected.”

          
I stared back at him for a moment, taking in his boyish
smile, his perfectly combed hair, and his defined jaw line. I suppose if
something like this could really work, he wouldn’t be a terrible person to
experiment with. I reached into my purse and grabbed a pen.

          
“What’s your lucky number?” he asked casually.

          
“Easy, thirteen,” I replied.

          
“Thirteen? That’s your number? Who has thirteen as their
lucky number? That seems dreadful,” he retorted. “Especially in a gambling town
like this. There’s really a reason these casinos don’t have thirteenth floors
you know.”

          
“Hey, you asked. I like to defy superstition, just out of
principle that it’s stupid. It’s just a number. It has to be lucky for
somebody,” I answered.

          
Greyson shook his head. “So we’ve determined you’re an
optimist, great. So we’ll have thirteen rules then, the final rule being that
in exactly three weeks from today if either of us isn’t getting everything they
want and you aren’t insanely happy, then we can just walk away from all of
this. We can meet up here in exactly three weeks from today. You just show up
if you want this to be a real thing, or you don’t show up if you want out.
Simple as that.”

          
“Well, I’ve stood you up before so at least I know you can
take it,” I teased.

          
“I’m pretty sure you just got lost that night and you
couldn’t find the place. Women are terrible with directions,” he rebuffed.
“Okay, so that gives us each six rules.” He changed the subject quickly. “These
are things you want that would make this your ultimate, perfect relationship.”

          
As we ate our food, my mind swirled with ideas. Surely I
should be able to think of a mere six things I wanted in a boyfriend, right? As
I was deep in thought, I noticed Greyson had grabbed my pen. He wrote for about
ninety seconds, set the pen down, then folded his napkin in half.

          
“You’re done?” I asked, almost spitting out some of my
food. My napkin was still blank.

          
“Hey, I’m a guy who knows what I want,” he responded with
a smirk.

          
Great, cocky Greyson returns. If I knew anything about
men, I assumed more than half of his rules would be sexual in some way. We
didn’t exactly talk about what was fair game here. But this contract, my
side
of it at least, was about
me.
This was my chance to actually choose what
I wanted. I could create the perfect man. I was going to have to make him work
hard for this idea. Maybe that would finally wipe away his arrogant, handsome
stare.