Statistic
Authors: Dawn Robertson
Statistic
Copyright 2014 Dawn Robertson
First Edition
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of these publications may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover and Formatting by
ShoutLines Design
T
ABLE OF
C
ONTENTS
D
EDICATION
Statistic
is dedicated to #TeamPonyPanties, the Dawn’s Dolls and all of my fans who have supported me through my insane journey.
Stefanie, and Carrie my amazing PA’s who tolerate my busy schedule, and flaky moments. Everyone I have met during 2014 at book signings. YOU guys keep me going!
My family, and friends who continue to be my support system. Especially M.
Each Day is a Blessing.
XOXO
What makes a person tick? Is it the way they are raised? Perhaps it’s a genetic predisposition. Our DNA coded from the moment of conception to dictate the entire way our life will play out? Of course some things will be left to chance; fate better yet. I can tell you from personal experience, some people are just born bad.
I always did my best, despite having the genetic odds stacked against me. Saying I didn't win the parental lottery would have been one of the understatements of the century. Yet, I was always able to skate by in life, trying not to become a statistic. Little did I know other people would take my choices away from me.
I guess most of my problems started when I got married. I was such a naïve twenty year old. I thought the world was all sunshine and roses. He was my world, my reason for living. That was until he lost interest in me. A high-risk pregnancy, bed rest, sex restrictions, and a colicky baby will kill intimacy for anyone. Breastfeeding isn't sexy. Neither are the stretch marks Liam left behind. I didn't care and I still don't, but
he
did and that is why I caught him in bed with my eighteen year old babysitter when my son was barely three.
I know, my life is starting to sound like a soap opera. I wish those were the darkest days. Back then, I thought they were. I thought going through a divorce with a four year old son was the end of the world. Ha. I wish I would have known what my future would hold. What damage could be done at the hands of a stranger I
thought
I knew.
Does anyone truly ever
know
another person? My answer to that question would be no. Even the most open and honest people have dark secrets, shit they would never reveal to anyone. You know you have those types of secrets, we all do. Hell, I do. I typically would never tell anyone. Except since the world knows most of them now, it is my turn to tell my own story.
The true story of Aurora Alexander. The real dangers of picking up strange men on the internet under the guise of dating and new beginnings. It all began as a game; a way to spread my wings and learn the dating game after being out of it for a decade. It ended in a violent attempt on my life.
I am a fighter. I have lived to tell my story. No one can silence me. Not even
him.
Even though I’m pretty sure this is a horrible idea, I have gone through with it. My dating profile on Fish in the Sea is finalized. The photographs are approved and the messages are already starting to roll in. I’m unsure if it’s good or bad, but it’s certainly the first step to putting myself out there again. As much as I wanted to hit it off with some of the men my girlfriends have set me up with, they are all the kind of guys that
they
think I should be with. Not the kind of men I genuinely would want to hit it off with. Dating disaster really should just become my middle name. Or even my user name for this stupid site.
I pull my strawberry blonde hair up into a messy knot on the top of my head, grab my glasses, and pour myself a glass of white wine. I should be out cutting up the town at a bar, but instead, I am home on a Saturday night in yoga pants and a paint spattered t-shirt watching True Blood re-runs and finally opening the sixteen messages my dating profile has pulled in this week. Pretty impressive for a single mom. I figured once guys read about my
baggage
in the form of a four year old they would run.
If anything, it has increased the number of messages I’ve received. Since when do guys love kids? I always thought it was just the opposite. I let out a yawn and instantly I realized the whole reason I am not out at a bar while my little guy is spending the weekend with his father is because I can't hang past ten o'clock no matter how hard I try. Parenthood has officially ruined my nightlife.
I open the first message and chuckle to myself.
Dear StrawberryMom,
When I saw your beautiful face I had to message you.
You strike me as a caring woman, especially being a mother.
I would love to see if it’s true what they say about moms in bed.
-Ken
Fail number one. And what the hell do they say about moms in bed? Apparently there is some pervy new rumor. And now I’m already second guessing this site. Delete.
Next message.
Hi, my name is Brandon. Hit me up, I might surprise you.
Surprise me with what? Living in your mother's basement or with a new species growing in that disgusting beard you have going on? What is with these guys? When did the grunge look make such a comeback? They should have let it die when Kurt Cobain did.
Next!
Hi StrawberryMom.
I hate using these user names on here, so would you be willing to talk more and tell me your real name? I'm Brent, 32 years old and I live in West Monroe, a couple towns over from Sharonville. I'm a recently divorced Dad of a little boy who is almost 5. I own a small construction company and would love to take you out sometime if you are interested. I look forward to hearing from you.
-Brent
Holy moley, a decent message and he isn't bad looking to boot. I typically don't go for blonds, but I just might be able to make an exception for him. His picture is downright adorable. He is holding a little boy whom I can only assume is his son, like a prized possession. He is smiling from ear-to-ear. His sunkissed skin glistens in the bright sunlight and totally brings out his bright blue eyes. Hot damn.
I click through a couple more of his pictures, they clearly show a lot about his personality and who he really is. He is definitely in shape because you can see every muscle in his upper body in the picture of him without his shirt. Is it getting hot in here?
I read his ‘about me’ section, hobbies and every last detail before replying to his message. I kind of feel like I’m about to hire him for a job or join the FBI, but you can't be too careful. I don't want to send the wrong kind of message to a weirdo. That’s for sure. I sit here and stare at my screen for ten minutes just thinking of my reply.
Hi Brent
I am new to this site, and this is my first reply to anyone, so bare with me. My name is Aurora and I am 28, recently divorced and a mother which you obviously already knew from my profile and user name. Ha! I live and work in Sharonville, but I am out and about all over the county. I love taking
pictures out by the animal preserve, as well as the lake. I own my own small marketing business. God, I am so bad at this and I can only hope you are laughing like I am right now. Anyway, I would totally be up for chatting some more on here, so inbox me back anytime.
-Aurora
Yup, I probably sound like a giant asshole. I’m so used to passing notes back and forth in math class saying “do you like me” and crap. I wonder if he will notice I haven't dated since high school? Shit!
I continue through the rest of the messages, some are downright creepy, and some are absolutely hysterical.
StrawberryMom do the curtains match the drapes?
