****
Jake sat at the bar and stared out over the crowd. The atmosphere intrigued him. Since arriving in New York, he’d been to a different place every weekend, each one with something unique to offer. Happy hour in New York differed from home –– no doubt about it –– where the same people and the same places bored him. This fast-paced city, with its steady hum of nightlife, seduced him more than any other place he lived.
Ryan nudged Jake in the stomach. “Look at that red-head over there in the corner. She’s hot!”
Jake twisted in his seat to look. “Yeah, she’s good-looking, but not my type.”
“Who is your type?” Ryan asked.
Jake shrugged. He didn’t want to get into this conversation again.
“Better for me.” Ryan disappeared through the crowd toward the woman.
He wasn’t in the mood to find a woman tonight. After a long day at the office, he needed peace of mind from a tasty tall lager. Jake ordered another beer.
Ryan drifted back to the stool next to Jake. “She’s waiting for her fiancé.”
“And I thought she was perfect for you.” Jake chuckled.
The next minute, an emaciated woman in a black skirt and white silk blouse sat down on the stool next to Jake, tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder, and crossed her legs.
She smiled and he smiled back.
Ryan wiggled his eyebrows at Jake and leaned over him to speak to the lady. “Hello, beautiful.”
She flinched, then turned her head, looking in the opposite direction.
If that wasn’t a signal, Jake didn’t know what would be.
Ryan jabbed Jake in the shoulder and pushed him into the woman. Then he left Jake to fend for himself. “Sorry about that.”
She accepted her martini from the bartender and faced Jake. “No problem.” She sampled her drink.
Hell, with her firm eye contact and slow smile, he wasn’t about to send her away. He scooted closer. “Enjoying your evening?”
“I am now.” She bit the cherry that she held in her fingers.
When Ryan returned, the woman sashayed away, and Jake waved a little piece of paper in Ryan’s face. “I got her phone number. Are you happy now?”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Take notes, my friend.” The fact was, he really didn’t care if he got the woman’s number or not. He loved the idol-worship look on Ryan’s face.
“Will you call her?”
Jake tore the paper in half and threw it to the side. “I’m not up for it tonight.” He bit into his cheese stick, while Ryan scanned the bar for someone willing.
“Ryan, I have a theory regarding women. If you have the right moves, three dates are all you need. Then you cut them off. Otherwise you fall into the category of a relationship, which means one thing –– complications.”
Ryan smacked his empty shot glass on the table. “You’re messed up.”
“Well, commitment and I don’t mix.”
He faced that fact a long time ago. The truth was, he didn’t have to work hard at getting a woman. He enjoyed playing the field. He’d tried a commitment once, but it bored him. And the one-sided, emotional-rollercoaster-ride aftermath was definitely not worth it. Why mess with a woman’s head when he only wanted to have fun?
The D.J. changed the upbeat music to a calmer number, and a group in the corner sang Happy Birthday. One of the waiters joined the table and a blonde girl danced around him.
Ryan blasted out a wolf-whistle. “There’s a winner at the corner booth. She’s gorgeous.”
Jake glanced in that direction. It was only a waiter.
“Oh man, I’m asking that brunette out.” Ryan straightened his tie.
Brunette? Jake glanced over again, a knot tightening in his shoulder from his morning run, to the far booth in the corner where the dancing blonde now talked with a brunette. Before he turned around, the brunette lifted her head.
Wait –– could it be?
His breath caught. Unbelievable. He grinned, remembering how Amanda Larson – his Mandy – always talked about living in New York. And here she was, sitting in the same restaurant, talking with friends. He’d never mistake those intense green eyes.
“What are you grinning at?” Ryan looked at Jake then to Amanda. “Nuh-uh. You can’t have her. I saw her first.”
Jake moved his stool in. “What are we? In first grade?”
“Give me a chance.”
“See you later.” Jake picked up his beer and headed in Amanda’s direction.
About Melinda Dozier
Reading romance has always been at the top of Melinda's favorite past times. You can always find a book in her hands no matter where she is.
Melinda is Louisiana born, New Mexico raised, Guatemala adopted, and recently a newcomer to Houston, Texas. So, it's only natural that her stories take place all across the world.
Melinda loves reading, reality TV, traveling, blogging, and playing Words with Friends.
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