park with you,” she said with a laugh. “I will never doubt your power of persuasion.”
“I didn’t hound him,” I protested. “We chatted a bit and then I suggested—maybe demanded—he meet me at the park. He left right after we talked. While I was making my rounds around the party, I heard some of the other people talking about him. One of them mentioned he won some big award.”
“You went to the park with a man whose name you didn’t know and you didn’t know shit about him?” she questioned. She was giving me that stern look. It was the same look she gave me when I was a little tipsy and considering going home with a guy.
“It was the park,” I insisted. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“What’s this guy’s name?” she asked, pulling her phone from the back pocket of her skinny jeans.
“Xander Holland,” I told her. I should have Googled him. I didn’t even think to do it. I really needed to get with the times and learn how to internet stalk better.
I waited while she typed in the name. Her brows shot up. “Not bad,” she murmured. “Not bad at all.”
“Let me see!” I grabbed her phone to check out a picture of him. It was one of those awful company pictures with a forced smile and him in a suit. He looked like he was getting a tooth pulled.
“That’s him.” I smiled.
“He’s hot,” she said and took the phone back. “Let’s see if we can find any real dirt on him.” I waited while she slid her finger over her screen, scowled, and pushed another button.
“Well?”
“He has no social media, unless he uses a different name. There is nothing on him. How boring.”
“That sounds very much like the man I spoke with,” I said, oddly happy that he wasn’t one of those guys that bragged all over social media. “He’s very closed up. He doesn’t talk much.”
“I bet you do plenty of talking for the both of you.”
I laughed. “Odd. He said the same thing.”
She put her phone back in her pocket. “Why him?”
“I don’t know. There was just something about him. It’s like seeing a pretty box with intricate wrapping paper. I wanted to know what was in the box. I am dying of curiosity to know him.”
“Because he’s hot,” she said.
“He is handsome.”
“Now what?” she questioned. “Was it a one-park date or is this going to be a thing?”
“I’m going out on his boat with him on Thursday,” I told her.
“Wow.”
“Is that a bad wow or a good wow?” I questioned. Her opinion mattered. I valued her advice and her experience. She was a little more world-wise than I was.
“I think you have to go with your gut,” she answered. “You like him. You were drawn to him. You have had one date with him and it went well. Go for it.”
I grinned. “Thank God. I was really hoping you would say that. I’m excited.”
“What kind of boat is this?”
“Not a yacht but not a little boat. I think he has money. I don’t know how much but he said he lived on the beach. We know how much those houses are.”
“This is what I need you to do,” she said, leaning on the bar like she had to give me the details of a top-secret mission.
“What?” I whispered.
“I need you to find out if he has a brother.”
I burst into laughter. “I will certainly ask.”
“I’m happy for you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you crush on a guy.”
I shrugged. “It is slim pickings out there. A lot of the guys I meet are just so—I don’t know—irritating. They want sex and someone to take care of them. I like a man that can stand on his own two feet. I like sex, but I would like to think I am more valuable than a basic pin cushion.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “I hear ya girl. Boy, do I hear you. All the good ones are taken or gay.”
It was our usual complaint. “I’m not sure if this is a boyfriend thing, but I do want to find out. Like I said, he doesn’t exactly ooze information. He’s not even an onion that I need to peel back layers. He is more of a coconut. I need to hammer at that hard shell he has just to get to the part where I can see who he really is.”
“He’s your new project.”
I smiled. “Maybe.”
“You are a natural-born nurturer. You nurture your dad and