Page 5 of The Enemy Plot
3
Patience Is A Virtue
Alice
“You look great!” Hayley says as I step into the living area. Emma is curled up in the reading nook with her Kindle in hands—reading nook’s rule—while Hayley is lounging on the couch, scrolling on her phone.
“Yeah, you look amazing,” Emma says, glancing at me. “Hope this guy’s worth it.”
Letting out a sharp breath, I adjust the bow that’s holding my ponytailtogether. “Me too.”
“I’m sure he is.” Hayley winks before settling back into her seat.
A smile breaks onto my face. Hayley has never been completely against love, unlike Emma, but she used to be a lot less enthusiastic about finding a real man who’s better than our book boyfriends. Then, she met my brother. Of all people, he’s the one who changed the way she views love—and herself. I hope I’m that lucky one day.
I clap my hands. “All right, I’m off.”
“Pepper spray?” Emma calls, not looking up.
I nod. “In my bag.”
“Rape bracelet?”
I tug at the bracelet on my wrist. “On.”
Emma nods in satisfaction. “Have a good night.”
Hayley and I burst into laughter. You’ve gotta love Emma. Sure, she’s kind of a Debbie Downer, but you can’t get more real than her. Unfortunately, she has a point. Dating in a big city requires a few necessary precautions.
“Bye,” I say with a smile. To be honest, I envy them—staying home, reading and hanging out while I put myself out there once again. I wish I could have found my match by now, like Hayley, or not have a care in the world when it comes to being alone, like Emma. But that’s not me.
“Let me guess,” a deep voice rumbles, startling me when I step foot on the sidewalk. Deacon is taking his trash out. The bar is lit, and low music emanates from inside. “You’re going on another date.”
I adjust my blazer and roll my eyes. Doesn’t he have anything better to do than harass me?
“Another bad date,” he adds.
Stopping, I cross my arms. “How do you know it’s going to be bad?”
One of his eyebrows arches upward.
“Exactly, you can’t possibly know that. It’ll be terrific.” Surely, a kindergarten teacher who loves sailing can’t be “bad.”
He looks at me for a second, as if trying to find something to say, then clears his throat. “I found your cat inside my bar again this morning. I told you to control that thing. It’s unsanitary to have him in there.”
I frown, trying to figure out why Mr. Darcy keeps going to his bar. We don’t have that problem with the other neighbors. Usually, he stays inside the store and only goes out for quick strolls during the day. Plus, cats know when they’re not welcome somewhere. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why he goes over there.”
“Well, you’d better figure it out.” His tone turns icy. “If I get a fine, you’ll be the one paying.”
Maybe Mr. Darcy is trying to protect us by getting Deacon’s business to fail a health inspection. The original Darcy is a man of action, after all. Glancing at Deacon’s mailbox, I pinch my lips. “Maybe if you put your name on the mailbox, he’d know that’s not his territory.”
Shooting me a glare, Deacon marches back inside, slamming the door in my face.
What a jerk! As I walk away, seething, I remember the letter I got for him earlier. It was addressed to Amelia Collier. I know that’s not his daughter. I heard them arguing once, and he called her “Lola.” I’m guessing Amelia is his ex-wife, or possibly his late wife? Maybe that’s why there’s an underlying melancholy in his eyes. I only notice it when he’s on his own, unaware I’m looking at him, but I see it.
My date with Greg is turning out to be a disaster. If it wasn’t for his eyes fixating on my boobs ever since I arrived, I’d say he seems nice. Maybe he’s trying to make them grow by staring at them? Lost cause, buddy. I’ve tried.
We’re far from the polished gentlemen in my historical novels or the perfectly flawed guys in my favorite rom-coms. Instead, I’m stuck with Greg, who decided to order for me and claims romance books are a waste of time.