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“You can do this,” Mia whispered to her reflection. She let out a shaky sigh and checked her appearance in the visor’s mirror again. She’d been sitting in the parking lot for ten minutes, gathering her courage to walk into the bar. It was ladies’ night and they were hosting a speed dating event called Sip & Spark. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone, but her friend Olivia was a bartender there and had somehow convinced her anti-social homebody friend to leave the security of her walled fortress for a little frivolous fun.
Well, it wasn’t really a fortress, but sometimes the house in Pacific Heights felt like it. It was far too big and too rich for her blood, but her father was never there and it would be a shame to just let it sit there, empty and cold. Besides, it was the perfectplace to hole up while Mia was trying to figure out what to do with her life.
At twenty-four, she could admit that she didn’t have all the answers. Not even close. In fact, she was more confused than ever about life, love and her future. Having an absentee father who was an eccentric billionaire didn’t help matters, and she barely remembered her mother who’d died when Mia was only four.
Snapping up the visor, she grabbed her purse, opened the car door and stepped out. Smoothing her clammy hands down the front of her fitted red dress, she waited for a Suburban to pass by then began walking across the parking lot.Time to be brave, step out of my comfort zone and meet some men. Real men who are alive and breathing.Not the hotties she was becoming obsessed with during her binge watch ofGames of Thrones.
Mia stepped into the crowded bar and scanned the room for Olivia. She spotted her pouring drinks on the other side of the room and headed over. Liv was her complete opposite—outgoing, confident and loud. Not one to hold back an opinion, she encouraged Mia to take chances and stand up for herself.
Because Olivia knew Mia could be a pushover.
By nature, Mia was a people-pleaser, and it wasn’t always easy for her to speak her mind. But, she was working on it.
“Mia! I’m so glad you came!” Liv exclaimed. She tossed a garnish into a drink, slid it to the customer and turned her attention to her friend. “What do you want to drink? The usual?”
“Sounds good, thanks.” Mia sidled up to the side of the bar and watched Liv make a vodka sour, topping it off with a maraschino cherry.
“Liquid courage,” she said and slid it over.
“I need it.” Mia took a big gulp of the sweet drink.
“Okay, c’mon, I want to get you situated before you chicken out. They’re going to start soon.”
Liv began walking toward the roped off section of the bar where ten tables were set up with two chairs across from each other. On each tabletop was a notepad and pen to take notes in between rounds and a clock that would buzz every four minutes.
The other women were already sitting, ready to get started, and Mia sat down in the only empty chair against the wall. The men would be the ones to get up and move every four minutes.
“Good luck,” Liv said. “I have a feeling you’re going to meet the man of your dreams tonight.”
“Ha! I seriously doubt that.”
“Just have fun. And if you need another drink, text me. I’ll get one sent over.” Liv tossed her a wink then hurried off to tend bar.
Mia let her eyes wander the room while she sucked down more of her vodka sour. The alcohol helped calm her nerves, and before she knew it, the hostess of the event was introducing herself and pointing to a group of men waiting to chat up the women.
Here we go,Mia thought, hope filling her. She had rotten luck when it came to men, but maybe Liv was right. Maybe tonight she would finally meet someone special.
Exactly sixteen minutes and four men later, Mia looked down at her notes and sighed. She hadn’t felt a connection with any of them. Not the model/social influencer who claimed he had two million followers and was only there to promote his brand. Definitely not the mortician who only talked about death and dying. Certainly not the guy who was “between jobs” and liked to shoot the rats in the alley behind his apartment with a BB gun. That left the long-haul trucker. He’d told her he wasn’t around that much, so maybe that was a good thing. At least he wouldn’t be too clingy or demanding.
As Mia was placing a question mark next to the trucker’s name, the chair across from her scraped backwards. She hit the timer and looked up at Mr. Tall, Dark and Oh-So-Sinful. As the bear of a man sat down, his black eyes locked in on her like a missile.
All the air seemed to rush out of her lungs and it took her a moment to find her voice. Holy crap, he was intimidating. And hot as fuck.
“Hi,” she said, her voice breathless, her attention moving to the black tattoos on his neck that disappeared down past the neckline of his black T-shirt. The material pulled against his muscled pecs and he wore a leather jacket better than any bad boy she’d ever seen. His hands, which he laid flat on the table, were covered with ink. Something inside her fluttered and she couldn’t help but wonder if his whole body was tattooed. When she looked back up, meeting his stony face, she gave him a tentative smile. “I’m Mia.”
“Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m Nik.”
Something about that deep, graveled voice of his piqued her interest. She detected a very faint accent but couldn’t place it. Actually, everything about him intrigued her. She’d always had a secret thing for dangerous-looking men, but she’d never had the nerve to do anything about it. And Nik definitely had an edge that appealed to her.
She was surprised to see him participating in Sip & Spark, figuring a man like him would have his pick of women. A flash image of women literally swooning at his feet when he snapped his fingers crossed through her mind.
She cleared the visual from her mind with a quick sip of her drink and looked down at her notepad. “So, ah, I have a list of questions here.”
Her voice wavered a bit, caught in the energy emanating from the man on the other side of the table. God, just when she’d begun to relax, Khal Drogo appeared and sat down across from her. Even though her heart thumped madly, she didn’t think she’d mind being his Khaleesi. Nope, not one little bit. “What do you do for work?”
“What do you do for work?” he asked right back.
“I’m in school. I mean, I was in school.” He arched a scarred brow. “I decided to change careers, so I, ah, dropped out recently.”
