Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,29

grateful to who?”

“To whom,” I amended.

“Get fucked, you grammar snob.”

I snorted and put my phone down. “If my date goes well tomorrow, maybe I will.”

Walker arched an eyebrow. “Confidence. Where did that come from?”

I grimaced. “I don’t know. I don’t like how that sounded. I take it back. I don’t think Briar is the sort of girl to have sex on the first date anyway.”

Walker swirled the last mouthful of his bourbon around in his glass before throwing it back. He set it down hard on the table and leaned back to cross one leg over the other. “So where are you going to take her, Romeo?”

“I’m not sure yet. I hear you when you say a nice place, but I don’t know if that’s Briar’s speed.”

“A nice restaurant is every girl’s speed, man.”

“I don’t think that’s true. But I have time to figure something out.”

“Don’t miss the mark. If you want to impress her—”

I held up a hand. “I’ve got it from here, Walker. Remember which one of us writes romance books for a living.”

Walker gave me a bemused and somewhat devilish smile. “And remember which one of us sleeps with gorgeous models on a weekly basis.”

Chapter 13

Briar

Sonia threw herself down on her stomach on my bed and tucked her hands under her chin. “So who is this guy again?”

I flipped through what little clothes I owned in my new closet. I wanted to find the perfect outfit for tonight. “His name is Wes. I met him my second night here in New York and he was the first person who was kind to me. I don’t know what it is about him but…” I trailed off.

“But what?”

“I want to know him better.”

“Cute,” Sonia gushed. “Is there a romantic something between you two?”

I turned to her as my cheeks burned. “I think so.”

“Oh girl,” Sonia squealed as she popped up to her knees on the bed. “That means there’s a lot riding on tonight.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Do you have a go-to first-date outfit?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” Sonia said thoughtfully, “how do you want to look tonight? Sexy? Confident? Pretty? Feminine? Bad ass?”

I giggled. “I didn’t realize there were so many options.”

“There are always options. That’s the best part about being a girl.”

I considered her question. What vibe did I want to put out there? “I’m not a girly girl,” I said.

“I might have picked up on that.”

“And I like being comfortable.”

“Okay.”

“But I don’t want to dress down too much. I still want to look cute. And maybe a little sexy. But I don’t want to sacrifice comfort for it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sonia said. “Why not keep it simple? A pair of black jeans and ankle boots with a cardigan and a scarf? Layers are important in New York this time of year, let me tell you.”

“Is that too simple? What would you wear?”

“Well,” Sonia said, sliding off the bed and joining me at the closet. “During this time of year, I like to wear a lot of short dresses with nylons underneath. And boots. Always boots. I like to throw a less feminine jacket over top, like a denim coat or a leather jacket. It dresses it down. It’s cute, but it’s still practical and functional, too.”

“I think you know what you’re talking about.”

Sonia gave me a knowing smile. “Is that permission for me to pick out your outfit?”

I nodded. Sonia clapped her hands together excitedly and started pulling clothes out of my closet. I didn’t own any jackets that satisfied her, so once she dressed me in a plum-colored long-sleeved blouse, black jeans, over-the-knee black boots she pulled from her own closet, and a leopard-print scarf, she went to the hallway closet and retrieved her own black leather jacket.

“The finishing touch,” she said as she slid it over my arms and we looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. “You look awesome. Do you feel good? Do you feel like yourself?”

I nodded, surprised. “I do actually.”

She put her hands on my shoulders. “Good. And you’re comfortable?”

I nodded again. “I am.”

“Then that, my friend, is a perfect first-date outfit. I think you’re going to knock his socks off.”

I gazed worriedly at my own reflection. “And if I don’t?”

Sonia draped an arm over my shoulders, looked me right in the eyes in the reflection, and said simply, “Then you drop his ass and move on to the next.”

Wes picked me up at five outside my new apartment building. As I passed the