Page 4 of Riding Mr. Right
“Why? It’s for charity. That’s a good thing.”
“I’ll donate the charity without doing the fake date thing. It’s not my scene.”
She looks down as we walk, and from the corner of my eye, I see a slight grin. “What’s the big deal with a fake date? I figured all you bachelors would be excited to get hooked up with someone.”
I laugh. “It’s not like that. There’s no excitement in spending the evening with a woman you don’t know.”
“What? It’s one night. Not even. It’s like dinner together, right?”
I open the door to the dining hall. “I tried it last year. It was a mess. But enough about me. We’re here for you tonight.” I nod toward a man in the back with a backward baseball cap. He’s behind the open kitchen, tending to a few pans on the stove. “That’s him.”
Jewel looks up, sucks in a deep breath, and her face goes so pale that I wonder if she’s losing blood.
“What’s wrong?”
A long moment passes, then another. “I can’t do this. I was… this was a mistake.” She turns and pushes back outside, walking away quickly as though there’s a wild animal chasing her.
I follow behind. “Hold on! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shouts back. “Nothing is wrong. It was all just a mistake. That’s all. We’re good.”
I don’t know her well enough to understand all the thoughts running through her head, but I do know she’s been out here for weeks trying to make this happen and running away from it now is probably a gut reaction she’ll regret. I jog up behind her and join her side, taking her arm in mine to slow her movements. “Let’s talk about it for a second. What happened when you saw him?”
She glances toward me. Soft and anxious, her hands are shaking. “I…” She sighs. “I can’t… I just can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t bother him.”
“You’re not. You don’t even have to tell him who you are.”
“But what good does that do? It only tortures me. I saw him. He exists. I’m fine. I should go. I can call a cab or something.”
“Cab?We’re on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. There are no cabs. There are bears. Bears and wolves. Spoiler alert… if they tell you they’re taking you home, they’re lying.”
She tilts her head to the side and bites back what looks to be anxiety. “I’m fine, really. Thank you for bringing me up here. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
My hand scruffs down over my beard. “You didn’t waste my time. You—”
“Jewel?” a voice echoes in from behind us and I recognize it immediately, though I can’t understand how Arnie knows Jewel’s name.
Her eyes widen and lock with mine as her curved frame freezes, paleness washing over her again. Honestly, I can’t blame her. Arnie isn’t supposed to know who she is, and if he does, it’s all my fault for steering her wrong.
I pull her frame against my chest and hold her close, trying to stop the shaking.
What the hell did I walk her into?
Chapter Three
Jewel
I always pictured my father as a short man. Short and bald, with a crooked bird nose that held up a thick pair of black glasses. I’m not sure why I gave him this persona, but it comforted me over the years imagining him this way.
When I had a bad day at school and my mom was working, I’d throw myself on the couch and picture that version of my father plunking down next to me with the best possible advice and a snack. Of course, the advice he gave was whatever television show dad I was channeling in the moment, but the sentiment remained the same and the fantasy of him made me feel less alone.
So when the real-life version of him is the complete opposite, shock is an understatement. In real life, the man is tall, inked, and has a beard that I’m guessing touches his chest when that hairnet is gone. He’s muscular, broad shouldered, and there aren’t a pair of glasses in sight.
“How do you know my name?” I stutter.