The Worst Dates Bring Chocolate Cake : A Romantic Comedy, page 11
“Nonna!” Gia was scandalized.
The elderly woman shrugged and drew on fresh eyeliner. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” She motioned to our spread of food.
I would have dropped my cannoli in shock and horror, except it was freaking good and I wasn’t going to waste it.
“Nonna, Ana’s not trying to get a sugar daddy. She needs a real relationship,” Gia said, rolling her eyes.
“Come,” Nonna said to me. “I’ll help you look nice for your billionaire. Just don’t fall in love with him yet. I need to talk to my fortune teller and have the cards read on him.”
“Nonna, she’s not marrying him,” Gia said, exasperated.
“Good, because I don’t trust him. He’s good for sex, maybe. But not for marriage.”
“I’m not sleeping with him either,” I shrieked.
Nonna raised one of her drawn-on eyebrows. “Hm. We’ll see.”
Elsie was late.
I paced around in the dark with Gia in front of an abandoned building. She had insisted I sneak up onto the roof deck.
“This seems less ‘manic pixie dream girl’ and more ‘eighties slasher film.’”
“They didn’t have fairy lights in fun shapes in those films,” Gia said, holding up the large canvas tote she had brought that held all the décor for the rooftop picnic.
“Maybe we should head up and start setting up decorations,” I said uncertainly.
We gazed at the boarded-up building.
“Are you sure Dana said it was safe to be here?” I asked nervously. Dana Holbrook was Belle’s business partner at Artemis Investment.
“She said it was no problem.” Gia scrolled through Instagram on her phone.
“Yes, but is it safe?”
“A manic pixie dream girl doesn’t care about safety,” Gia scoffed.
I wasn’t really feeling much like Zooey Deschanel.
The dress that Nonna had dictated I wear was a short pinafore with big flower print. Nonna had been mad when I refused to wear heels, but I was glad I had worn my heavy black boots.
My hair framed my face messily, and Nonna had even trimmed my bangs, which had been getting a little long. I scratched my scalp under the polka-dot scarf I was using for a headband. I didn’t think I looked like anyone’s idea of a manic pixie dream girl. I was probably more like the crazy lady on the subway.
And Elsie was still late.
“Maybe I should text Walker and reschedule.”
“Eyes on the prize.”
A horn beeped, and Elsie’s catering van chugged up in front of us.
“Sorry,” she called, opening the door and jumping out. “There was an emergency bridal situation. Apparently, one bride’s fiancé’s newly adoptive nephew was allergic to eggs, and I had to remake the menu. It’s been a disaster.” She opened the back of the truck.
I climbed up to help her unload the food, which was packed in black insulated plastic crates.
“Where’s the elevator?” Elsie asked as she headed to the front door of the building. She paused when she noticed it was boarded up. “Are we at the right place?”
“It’s all organized,” Gia sang, unlocking the padlock. “Walker’s going to be very impressed.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said. Something dripped on my nose when we walked into the dilapidated building. In its heyday during the twenties, the historic lobby must have been a sight to see.
“Artemis Investment just bought the property,” Gia stated, her heels muffled on the dusty floor. “Soon, it’ll be a bunch of luxury condos. The mosaic floor is in pretty good condition, and we’re going to have the chandelier refurbished.” We climbed the grand curving staircase up to the balcony by the elevators.
I yelped as one of the steps felt ready to collapse under my weight.
The stairwell up the eight stories to the roof was equally precarious, and I was sweating and anxious when we finally made it out into the evening sky. “Maybe we need to find a different venue.”
My phone chimed.
Walker: I’m at the address you gave me.
Walker: It looks like a boarded-up building.
“This was a terrible idea,” I fretted.
Gia handed me a hammer.
“Just help me string up these lights,” she said.
We hastily strung them over the rooftop deck while Elsie set out a blanket on an old pallet and a mini wooden table. She added a small crystal bowl and filled it with water, floating votive candles, and roses.
“Wow,” I said as we took in the whole effect. “It actually looks pretty cool.”
“It’s almost as if I plan parties for a living,” Elsie said dryly.
My friends snuck out a back way while I went down to grab Walker. I was feeling slightly better about the date. We had food, alcohol, a nice view—this was a worthy-girlfriend move.
“You don’t actually want to be his girlfriend,” I reminded myself. “We’re here to get intel for Gia. And maybe write an article and save your home, but that’s probably wishful thinking at this point.”
But seeing Walker smile when he saw me standing in the doorway made my heart beat a little faster.
It’s low blood sugar and stress.
It was also how hot he was.
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek when he saw me. He lingered a little long, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of my pinafore.
“This has to be one of the crazier dates I’ve been on.” He rested his hand on my waist. “Or it’s about to turn into the worst. You’re not going to chain me up in here somewhere, are you?” he joked.
“If you take off your shirt again, I might not be able to restrain myself.” I grinned at him.
He laughed, the warm sound echoing around the cold, empty lobby.
“You want to tie me up and have your way with me? I can think of a few more comfortable places,” he added.
Ugh, stop joking about sex with him; you’re not sleeping with him. Isn’t your life already enough of a mess without getting sexually attached to a self-absorbed billionaire?
But he clearly had sex on the brain.
You brought it up.
“Whose haunted mansion is this, anyway?” Walker asked as we headed up to the roof.
“Artemis,” I said automatically then kicked myself. The Svenssons were Gia and Belle’s sworn enemies. They would kill me if I ruined their development.
“Really?” Walker said. “Do you work there?”
“What?” I said, starting to panic. “Of course not. I’m a model, remember? I just have a passing acquaintance there. From high school. I wanted to surprise you with a fun, spontaneous experience.”
“Usually, women want the man to plan a date.”
“I like to plan things,” I said. “I have a color-coded agenda book.”
To be fair, though, I hadn’t used it since my blog nosedived. It was more depressing than inspirational to open the agenda every day and see no new posts planned, no new sponsors, and no new restaurants to eat at.
“We’re here,” I said when we were at the top of the stairs. I tried not to sound too winded. Maybe I needed to start going to Jazzercise with Gia and Nonna.
“To get the full impact of the surprise, you have to wear this.” I unwound the polka-dot scarf from my hair.
Walker raised an eyebrow. “So you are going to tie me up.”
“Just a little blindfold,” I said, reaching up on my toes and tying the scarf around his eyes. “No peeking.”
I took his hand and led him out onto the rooftop. You had to make two tight turns around a water tank to get to where the dinner was set up. Walker tripped on a pipe and half stumbled into me.
The feeling of his hard, muscular body against mine was almost too much for my raw nerves to handle.
I half pushed, half herded him, trying to ignore how much we were touching as I maneuvered Walker to the money-shot view worthy of any influencer’s Instagram.
I reached up and slid off the blindfold.
“Ta-da!” I said. I waited a beat, internally panicking.
Maybe this wasn’t what he wanted. Walker was used to eating at fancy restaurants, staying in nice hotels, and flying private jets out to places like Monaco for a weekend. Now I had brought him to a rooftop covered in garbage and an old water tank that probably had a dead body in it.
“This is,” Walker said, brow furrowed, “really nice of you to do.”
Ugh, he didn’t like it. He wasn’t even pretending to be enthusiastic.
Shit.
I bet he breaks up with you or worse, ghosts you tomorrow.
Better just get this over with.
“Are you hungry?” I asked weakly, heading over to open the insulated hamper Elsie and I had lugged up to the rooftop.
I had expected it to be filled with dips and cute finger foods. That was not what was in the hamper.
“Did you make chili?” Walker asked as I opened a container.
He sprawled on the blanket like a model—a real model, not the fake model I was pretending to be.
Chili? Seriously, Elsie? I hated to be ungrateful, but chili was so not romantic rooftop-date food.
“Guess so,” I muttered.
“You didn’t cook this?” Walker asked with a wry grin.
“I mean, to be fair,” I snapped back, “you haven’t cooked any of the food I’ve eaten on dates with you.”
Way to nuke this date from orbit.
But instead of being angry, Walker laughed.
“I like chili. I grew up in Wyoming, and it was a staple. Though ours was more beans than meat. Man, and you even brought toppings.” He opened several little containers that held cheese, green onions, chives, sour cream, and homemade Fritos chips.
I spooned some chili into two bowls and used the little mini tongs to sprinkle toppings onto it while Walker poured out drinks from the pitcher of cocktails.
The date can’t be too bad if there’s alcohol, right? I thought, taking a bite of the chili as Walker picked up his own bowl.
As soon as I took a bite, I realized that actually, yes, the date could get a lot worse.
My nose and eyes immediately started running as the spicy shock of peppers surged up my nostrils and into my brain.
“Spicy,” I rasped, waving my hand in front of my mouth. “So spicy. Don’t eat it.” I tried to grab Walker’s bowl away from him while blindly feeling around for my cocktail.
Walker watched me in shock as I drained half my glass then immediately felt like passing out.
“Is that lighter fluid?” I gasped. Everything felt like it was on fire. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. This date is a disaster. I need water.”
I wiped my eyes, my makeup smearing, and stared at him.
He took a bite of the chili.
“How can you eat that?” I shrieked in a raspy voice.
“I think it’s pretty good,” he said, scooping up another spoonful.
At least it’s just you dying out here on this rooftop.
He took a sip of the drink.
I tried to force myself to get it together.
Stop embarrassing yourself.
“Maybe you just ate a bite of pepper,” Walker said.
“Yeah,” I said weakly, “maybe that’s it.” I forced myself to choke down another bite of the spicy chili.
My nose ran. I fantasized about ice cream.
“You don’t like spicy food?” he said, polishing off his bowl.
“I do. This is like ghost-pepper level.”
Walker grabbed my bowl and took a bite. “Tastes the same as mine.”
“Guess I need to toughen up.”
His phone went off. He ignored it.
I took another sip of the burning alcoholic cocktail.
Seriously. Elsie catered weddings. That meant her food was usually pretty tame and feminine—not that women couldn’t eat spicy food, but geez, I was pretty sure I had a hole burned in my mouth.
I rooted around the hamper for water. Surely Elsie had packed water, right?
Walker’s phone rang. He looked at it and shook his head slightly. “Will you excuse me a moment?”
I nodded. He walked over to the roof parapet.
“...doubt there are actually talking elves in the wall...”
My sister, he mouthed to me.
Take your time, I mouthed back.
I’ll just be over here drowning in a puddle of my own sweat.
I unbuttoned the top few buttons on the pinafore, trying to get some airflow.
My own phone chimed.
Elsie: Don’t eat that food!
Elsie: It was supposed to be for a bachelor party.
Elsie: I mixed up the hampers.
Anastasia: Too late.
Anastasia: Already did.
Anastasia: Need water.
Anastasia: Dying.
Elsie: I promise I’ll make it up to you!
Anastasia: Don’t worry. The date was a bust anyway.
I took another sip of the toxic drink—the alcohol was starting to numb me—and waited for Walker to finish his call.
He’s adorable with his sisters, I thought, pouring myself another glass. Probably would be a good father.
He was going to make some woman very happy.
Just not me.
And part of me felt really bereft about that.
24
WALKER
“Of course the guinea pigs aren’t in cahoots with the elves,” I said to Luna over the phone, unable to believe I was having this conversation. Maybe Greg was right and I needed to table dating for a few years until Luna was a little more grounded in reality or at least stopped wearing a tinfoil hat in public.
“What if they’re working with Dad?” she cried.
“I didn’t spend a lot of time with Dad,” I told her, “but from what I recall, he wasn’t exactly a fan of animals, and they never really liked him. I’d say the guinea pigs working with the elves is probably more likely than working with Dad.”
“But you believe me, right?” My little sister sounded distraught.
“Of course. Look, I’ll bring you some chili when I come back, and we’ll sit down and talk thoroughly about the issue,” I assured her.
I never wanted my little sisters to think I didn’t take them seriously. I knew how it had felt as a child to be dismissed and belittled.
“Do you have to go?” Ana asked me. She seemed a little tipsy.
“Probably can’t stay long.”
“You can take all of this chili,” she slurred.
She had kicked off her boots and was half lying back on the blanket, the glow from the fairy lights lighting her cheek. She looked pretty and kissable and fuckable lying there, lightly rubbing her bare feet together.
Don’t get attached to her. She’s probably just another out-of-touch rich girl, just like all the rest. I poured myself more of the cocktail that Ana had said was too strong.
But what if she wasn’t? What if my test with the cake had given me a false negative and she was actually the girl for me? None of the other women I had dated had so much as tried to plan a date and surprise me like Ana had.
Not that I had really expected them to. I had always had an unspoken agreement with the women I dated that we were just there for mutual enjoyment. I was going to pay for everything, and in exchange, the girl would be entertaining company.
None of them had ever challenged me like Ana had. None of them had put together a date for me. Hell, none of them had met my little siblings.
Ana gave me a soft smile.
“I’d tell you that you look really hot right now,” she said, slowly tipping her glass to her mouth, “but it would make your already obnoxiously large ego even worse.”
“Says the person with her shirt half undone, flashing everyone in New York.”
“Wha—?” She looked down. “Crap. Can’t believe I ruined your date like that,” she said, trying to fumble with her buttons.
I suddenly couldn’t help it. Before I knew what I was doing, I had slipped my arm around her waist and pushed her back against the blanket. The empty glass rolled out of her hand onto the roof deck.
I hovered over her, the heat of her body soaking into mine.
She stared up at me with big brown eyes. Her mouth was slightly parted. I could feel her breath, little pants against my chin.
She leaned up just a few centimeters, and our lips barely touched.
She’s drunk. So are you. Have some self-control.
She leaned up again, her tits against my chest, and pressed her mouth against mine.
All my self-control swan dove off the roof.
I grabbed the back of her head, crushing our mouths together, taking her mouth. My tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling with hers. My hand ran over her body, making her moan. The noise went straight to my dick.
All I wanted to do was push her dress up and feel the hot wet slit ready for my aching cock. It had been such a long time...
My phone went off.
That seemed to break the spell for Ana, and she gasped and pushed me off.
“I think I spilled my drink,” she said, turning away.
Luna was calling me again.
“Guess she wants her dinner,” Ana said, busily packing up the food into the hamper, doing her best not to look at me.
Was she mad about the kiss?
I knew I wasn’t. She had felt amazing against me.
And all I wanted was to feel her against me again.
25
ANA
“Oh my gosh,” Elsie said the next morning when she saw me in the kitchen. “I am so sorry. That chili was supposed to be for a bachelor party. The groom is a big chili fan and wanted extra-spicy food. Did it ruin your date?” She made an apologetic face. “I brought the leftovers that I was supposed to give you last night, if that’s any consolation.”
“Ooh! Salmon spread,” Gia exclaimed happily, opening one of the containers. “And yum, potato salad.”
