“She’s looking for a good man,” she continued, “and you have a lot in common, and both of you are from good, old Nashville families. I don’t see what it’d hurt to at least try.” My mother looked me up and down. “She’s not too young like your cradle-robbing friend. She’s thirty-two. And she’s very pretty you know. Brunette and busty. I know you like them busty.”
My face flamed, and I put my palm to my forehead. The last thing I wanted to do was discuss my physical preferences with my mother.
“Okay, okay,” I said, throwing up my hands. “If you promise me you’ll stop asking about it for at least six months, I’ll go on one date.” I held up a single finger. “And only one. If we don’t click, then I don’t want any complaints.”
My mother clapped her hands together once, her face now alight with joy. “One date is all you need, you’ll see.”
“I’m just agreeing to one date, Mother, not to marry this woman. And you have to promise me, okay?”
She grinned as she stood. “I promise not to bother you again about this for six months.” She gestured to the clock hanging above my door. “But I really better get going. I have an early meeting tomorrow to discuss some statues we might be funding in a local park.”
“Thank you for stopping by.” I gestured toward the paper plate holding the cherry pie crumbs. “And it was delicious.”
My mother hurried out. After she closed the door, I was sure I could hear a distant giggle.
I loved and trusted my mother, but I wasn’t so sure I loved and trusted her to set me up with a woman or if she even really had my best interests at heart. After all, she was concerned with one thing, grandchildren, and I wasn’t so sure I cared that much about having kids anytime soon.
The promise filled me with a little hope. One date shouldn’t be so bad, I figured, and after that, I’d have her off my back for half a year.
Still, I couldn’t stop wondering if I had agreed to something that would ruin my life.
Chapter Three
EMILY
Thursday after dropping Juniper off at pre-school, I waited at a red light on my way to the bank. I glanced at the clock in my car, 8:30 a.m. Three and half hours until what would probably turn out to be the most awkward moment of my life.
I’d caved. All my bravado, all my threats to Mama, but I still end up caving like a good respectable daughter should.
On Tuesday night, she ended up calling me after I went home. The way she carried on about Logan Hawkins, I couldn’t help but think she wanted to marry him. Maybe I should have suggested that instead of agreeing to her little date plan.
I should have been a strong, independent woman like she raised. Instead, I folded to get her off my back.
A car honked, and I
realized the light had changed green. I accelerated with a sigh.
Sally Jolie, the Adamant Mother of Dating Doom. She’d never give up. That’s what I realized. That’s why I’d agreed. At least, that’s what I told myself to make myself feel better.
The date didn’t have to be a big deal, but I didn’t expect it to be two days later. I’d thought I would have more time. Instead, she called me up first thing Thursday morning to suggest a lunch date at a café downtown. It was a bit of a compromise, as it was between both of our jobs and something we could fit in during the workday.
In truth, that was a bit of a relief. It’d been a long time since I’d been out on anything approaching a romantic date, even with Lionel, so it helped that I didn’t have to worry too much about what I was going to wear, other than the nice and professional blue skirt, white shirt, and blue jacket I wore for work. Light make-up, nothing inappropriately sexy.
It’s not that I didn’t look nice, but working risk analysis at the bank wasn’t exactly a job where one would emphasize one’s womanly assets and curves.
And I’m not trying to brag, but the good Lord blessed me with an ample chest. It was too bad it was wasted on Lionel, a man who didn’t appreciate my curves enough to stop chasing after other women. The bastard.
It didn’t matter. The only reason I was going to this little lunchtime semi-date was to get Mama off my back. After all, this Logan Hawkins sounded like a mama’s boy. What sort of man needed his mother to set him up on a date?
I was thinking he was probably not too kind on the eyes with a personality to match. Given the status of the Hawkins family, he probably was lazy and hadn’t done much with his life. Otherwise, he’d already have a woman. That had to be the situation. It’s the only way it’d make sense that he’d need help with dating.
I arrived at the parking lot of the bank and smiled to myself. I might not want this date, but by biting the bullet, I’d at least be safe for a while.
* * *
“Thank you all,” my manager said. “I know this has been a long meeting, but I wanted to make sure we were all on point for dealing with our quarterly and annual goals. We’ll have a follow-up meeting next week. Until then, you’re free to go.”
Several people grumbled as they rose. I blinked a few times, realizing I’d spaced out a few minutes ago, after the fiftieth PowerPoint slide in the presentation.