When wealthy restaurateur Nate meets down-to-earth Beth at a gas station, her charm catches him off guard. Intrigued but wary from past heartbreak, Nate invites her on a date with a twist. Will his charade of being a waiter at a restaurant he owns reveal her true intentions?
Neon paint splatters covered my clothes, and I didn’t realize how ridiculous I looked until I pulled up to the gas station.
I stepped inside, feeling sore and a little dazed from an intense paintball match, and that’s when I saw her.
The cashier.
Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, a few wisps escaping around her face.
When she noticed me and smiled, I swear my heart somersaulted.
“If the Terminator walked in right now,” she teased, “he definitely wouldn’t ask for your clothes.”
I blinked. For a second, I didn’t know whether to laugh or melt into the floor.
“I…
I was just playing paintball,” I replied sheepishly.
My cheeks flamed up in what I could only hope wasn’t an obvious blush.
She grinned wider, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Really?
That was my first guess.” She looked me up and down, making a show of inspecting the damage the paint had done to my clothes.
“Did you win, or…?”
“Uh, yeah. My team won.” I shrugged, trying to appear casual, though it was hard to feel composed under her playful gaze.
“Well, congrats, soldier.
Need a victory snack?” She winked at me and nodded at the candy shelf, her tone still dripping with mock seriousness.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
This woman — Beth, her name tag read — was a breath of fresh air.
I don’t know what came over me, but the next thing I knew, I blurted out, “Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?”
She blinked, the smile fading slightly as surprise flickered in her eyes.
For a moment, I feared I’d misread the whole thing. But then she tilted her head and her grin returned to full force.
“Alright. Sure… just no paintball, okay?”
We exchanged numbers, and I walked out of that gas station with a date to look forward to.
I was excited, but it didn’t take long for the anxiety to set in.
I’ve been burned too many times before.
Women were more interested in the idea of Nate, the wealthy restaurateur than in Nate, the man who liked obscure indie bands and reading Manga. So, I devised a little test.
Maybe it was crazy, but I had to know.
I invited Beth to my upscale Italian restaurant downtown.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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