The problem with working an office job is all the darn meetings. I swear if we spent more time doing our work and less time going to meetings, we’d probably double the amount of work we got done each day.
I managed not to yawn as I glanced at my watch. 11:00 a.m. The meeting had gone over by forty-five minutes. That meant I’d not be able to go through some documents I’d planned to get to before lunch.
The thought of skipping the date bubbled up in my mind, but I squashed it. If I skipped a date that both Mama and Amelia Hawkins had set up, I was sure I’d never hear the end of it. Mama would be scandalized. I’d have to stay late to make up the work.
I fought back a curse. I couldn’t stay late. I had to pick up Juniper.
I’d have to cut lunch short, which meant I was probably dooming this whole thing before it started.
It didn’t matter. Juniper was the single most important thing in my life, and if Logan couldn’t understand that, then even a minute of time with him would be a waste.
I allowed myself a good stretch as I rose from the hard plastic seat and headed toward the conference room door. The café I was supposed to meet Logan at wasn’t far away. At work, we ordered from them a lot. That meant I still had some time to freshen up before I had my little date or awkward torture session, whatever you wanted to call it.
A cleansing breath followed. I wanted to try and keep a positive attitude. Now, just because I didn’t know anyone who had been set up with their man by their mothers didn’t mean it couldn’t work out. Right?
To be honest, I could barely remember what they were even talking about during the meeting. My mind had kept drifting to Logan Hawkins and what a disaster the date might turn out to be.
I rubbed my palms together and tugged at my shirt collar, my whole ensemble suddenly feeling confining and hot despite the fact the building maintenance kept the air conditioning so low, I felt like I worked in a refrigerator half the time.
I hurried to the ladies’ room.
Why was I so nervous? It was simple really. It’s one thing if a woman sets up her own date with some random man and it flames out. There are no expectations, no lasting connections to cause her trouble normally. But Mama had set this up through one of her society friends.
That meant if everything exploded, it wouldn’t be a matter of me never calling the man again and vice versa but of Mama yelling at me or him. Maybe yelling at Amelia Hawkins. Or the opposite. Heck, maybe she’d keep out the middle-woman to call me up directly and give me a tongue lashing for not appreciating the charms of her great son.
I groaned loudly, earning more than a few curious stares from fellow employees in the hallway before I stepped into the ladies’ room.
No one was inside. Good. I didn’t want anyone to ask me what was wrong because then I might actually have to explain.
I took a deep breath and peered into the mirror. My makeup still looked fine. I looked cute and professional, so I was presentable enough at least if the whole date actually, by some miracle, ended up going well.
For some reason, I found myself wondering if Logan Hawkins liked hazel eyes. Maybe he wanted thinner, leaner women. It wasn’t that I was fat or anything, just that I wasn’t exactly some hardbody who hit the gym all the time. I was proud of my hourglass figure and curves, but maybe he wouldn’t like them and wanted someone he could go on marathons with. Not that I’d heard he ran marathons.
Men liked big boobs though. That was fairly universal, right? At least that was what I told myself.
I shook my head, suddenly irritated. Why should I care what Logan Hawkins liked? I didn’t even want to go on the date in the first place. I had a little girl to worry about, not impressing some second-rate man Mama’s friend was throwing me at out of desperation.
After washing my hands, I splashed some water on my face, my heart pounding.
“You can do this, Emily. You can do this.”
* * *
“You can do this, Emily,” I repeated to myself as I stood outside the door of the café not that long later. I wanted to send up a prayer, but I figured the Lord had better things to do than help me out on a date.
When I stepped into the café, it wasn’t that busy. I guess more people ordered out than ate in, despite the lovely granite tables and white chairs. A waitress walked over to me.
“Please take a seat anywhere you want, ma’am,” the chipper woman said.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m waiting for someone.”
She smiled and headed off.
A quick glance around didn’t help me spot anyone who might be Logan Hawkins, especially since all the customers were either women or old men. I regretted not having Mama send me a picture. I didn’t know why I hadn’t. Maybe I was too afraid to prejudge the guy if he turned out to be ugly. Bless his heart.
Lord knows looks aren’t everything. My ex-husband was a sight to behold when I first married him, but his heart was ugly as sin. Still, I figured it might be nice if Logan Hawkins wasn’t bad on the eyes.
I saw one man sitting alone and wondered if he might be Logan, but he didn’t look to be much past his early thirties, if that. Logan was pushing forty from what Mama had told me. No way that pretty boy was Logan.