Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,29
grins. “I’m in corporate, so it’s always the busy season. When I’m with someone, I like to get in and get out.”
I want to laugh at how horrible that sounds for his bedroom antics, but I hold back my bad joke.
“What do you do for a living? Melody wouldn’t say. She thought it would make great first-date chatter.”
“I write romance.”
He laughs loudly. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why do you think that’s funny?”
“Romance? You mean, like those books that have Fabio on the cover?” With his chest puffed out, he pushes his arms back and poses like you’d see a male model doing on the cover of a tawdry historical romance.
“Um, no. Not that there’s anything wrong with those. I’ve actually read quite a few and enjoyed them. But I write contemporary romance.”
“There’s a difference?”
I pause and think. “Well, it’s romantic literature that primarily focuses on the developing romance and relationship between two people. Being contemporary means the book takes place in the here and now, so my characters are experiencing difficulties that you and I would on a daily basis.”
“Like what?” he asks, leaning on the table with his arms crossed.
“Navigating the online dating world, wanting to have a baby when you’re single and in your mid-thirties, falling for your boss—”
“Going to sex dungeons.” His eyes widen with excitement, which creeps me out.
“Going on horrible first dates.” I raise my eyebrows at him, silently telling him to get his mind out of the gutter.
Tommy leans back and apologizes, “Sorry. I thought that was part of your genre.”
I explain, “It is. And I’ve read countless dirty books that I love. But those are erotic. My books are sweet yet steamy when you get to the love scenes. I like to explore the relationship deeper, watch my characters grow, and—” My eyes meet his, and I stop suddenly. “Sorry. This is totally inside baseball. It’s like if you started talking to me about amortization.”
“I really could.” He grins, and I shake my head with a fake laugh, knowing the word amortization is about as far as my interest in the subject goes.
“So, what else do you do?” he asks with an unsure inhale.
“In terms of …”
“For work.”
I give him the side-eye. “That is my job.”
“You’re a self-employed writer?” He seems disturbed by this info.
I nod with my eyebrows raised. “Yes. I make a good living actually.”
“Interesting,” he says in a dismissive way as he turns his attention back to his menu.
I place my hands on the table before I announce, “I have to use the ladies’ room. If you’ll excuse me.”
He stands when I do, which is very courteous, so I try to bring down the irritation brewing inside of me. “Sure. Should I order you anything?”
“Yes. Please order me a Manhattan.”
“Isn’t that a manly drink?” He scrunches his face like women should only drink lemon drops or white wine.
“I don’t know. Are you going to order one too?” I tilt my head, daring him.
“Nah, I’m ordering a beer.”
“Well then, in this case, the beer would be the manly drink.” I tap the table with my hand twice, my point made clearly.
He quickly raises his eyebrows in response as he lets out a breath. I turn and head toward the restroom, taking a long time because I need a break.
Something about this date is not going as planned.
“Nope. Lacey, you will not sabotage this date before it’s even begun. He was just asking questions. You’re navigating the first-date crash course. You’ll find your stride. Give it to the end of dinner.”
Thankfully, there’s no one in the restroom to hear me give myself a pep talk.
I freshen up my lip-gloss and check my dress again. Feeling renewed, I walk out of the restroom to see my table is empty.
First, I assume he went to the men’s room until I notice him at the bar, talking to a woman in a rather intimate way. When I see them exchange numbers, I shake my head, knowing my instincts were right. Instead of giving him another second of my time, I walk straight for the door, opting to take a bus home rather than stay for dinner.
Chapter Nine
“Would you like more wine?” I ask Charisse as I hold up the bottle.
She picks up her glass. “How dare you even ask. Of course I would. Melody’s driving tonight. And she’s putting Aubrey to bed when we get home.” She turns to give Melody a huge smile, and I know that wasn’t originally part of the plan.
Melody laughs as she