Sneek Peak~~Chapter 4


It works.  Lying works.  Lying works because I have a date.

I stand outside Yummy’s Greek Restaurant awaiting his arrival.  We’d chatted for a couple weeks online before he, Wesley House, asked me out to dinner.  Sure, he came off as a little arrogant, but successful businessmen often do and he is owner of his own landscaping company which boasts a fleet of trucks and a dozen employees.

I wear a new frock, its black (black is slimming) gauzy fabric not clingy and thus does not emphasize my rolls and folds.  The short shirred sleeves and empire waist with small bow accent create a Grecian effect.  Coupled with gold metallic sandals, I think I look very well and feel more confident than I have in a long time.

“ShyNSweet?” a voice asks.  I look up to find Wesley standing there.

“RockStarMan83?” I reply, flashing him a smile.

“That’s me” he grins in return and looks me over head to toe.  I hold my breath.  He now knows I lied about my weight but doesn’t show any sign of anger.  “Are you hungry?  Let’s get this party started,” he adds before I can reply.

We enter the restaurant (he holds the door for me—a good sign, he’s a gentleman) and wait for a minute while the hostess gets our table ready.  I’m nervous and perspiring and try to stand still, holding my purse by its strap in front of me.  Wesley stands with one hand in his pocket jingling change.

“So how’s your day been?” he asks in an attempt at small talk.

“Great, just great.  Been busy with work.”

“You got that right,” he smoothes back his close-cropped black hair.  He has a small bald spot on the back top of his head, stands about an inch taller than me and has a slight paunch.  He opens his mouth to speak again when his cell phone beeps.  He pulls it out of his jacket pocket and reads a text, then drops the phone back in the pocket.  “Yeah, work has been crazy busy, clients calling all day long and wanting their lawns done that day.  I keep telling them they have to give us at least a day’s notice if they won’t keep a regular schedule.  They think I’m Superman and can do the impossible and then they expect me to show up with my crews.  I mean, come on, I’m the boss.  That’s why I get the office.  I don’t work in the field any more.  I did my time.  It’s like I used to always tell Michelle—that’s my ex-girlfriend—that I’m not available 24/7.  I’m my own man.  I have a life.  I have plans.  Don’t place demands on me.”

“Sure, you’re right, you deserve a break,” I agree, though I am surprised by his vehemence.

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