Page 68 of A Bossy Surprise

“Oh. So soon?”

He chuckles. “I don’t like to waste time.”

“Ummm, okay. I get off work at seven.”

“Great! I can pick you up from your office. I know where it is.”

“All right. See you then.”

“Sure. Goodbye, Kayla.”

The line goes dead and I instantly want to barf.

What the hell was I thinking?

I don’t need to go on a date with this man to know that I don’t want to have anything to do with him. He is also Amanda’s friend. So if I handle this poorly, she’s going to come down on me like a ton of bricks.

Oh well, at this point there’s nothing else I can do. I have to meet him for drinks and pray for the evening to be over quick.

I get back to work and try to distract myself from my impending date tonight.

When 6:30 rolls around, I freshen up in the ladies room and wait for Eugene.

At 7 o’clock on the dot my phone beeps with a text message:

I am here.

I groan.

Who texts like that?

I take a deep breath, grab my purse off my table and head outside.

Eugene is leaning up against his silver Volvo when I step into the brisk Cleveland evening.

He is wearing a black suit and his blonde hair, that is almost the same color as mine is artfully quaffed on top of his head.

Eugene really is an attractive man, but for some reason, I am just not attracted to him.

He stands up tall with a smile stretched across his face as I approach him. He kisses me on the cheek and says, “You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.” Doubting his words, I look down at my unimpressive blouse and skirt combo and my soul rolls her eyes.

He opens the passenger door of his car and I jump in. He then rushes around and gets in, then we are on the road.

“I know this amazing place that serves the best cocktails. Unless you have somewhere else in mind?” He says.

“No, I don’t. I’m fine to go wherever.”

“Cool.”

The rest of the drive is silent and awkward as hell. To make matters worse, all of Cleveland has decided to pour out onto the streets tonight. So traffic is torture.

30 minutes after we leave GNN, he is parking on the curb in front of a bar calledSticky Floors.

Once we get out of the car, I look at the flashing neon sign and say, “Sticky Floors?”

He laughs. “Don’t judge it by the name. It’s actually pretty great.”