From the book
Julie Nelson's first blind date had gone so badly, she'd sworn off them for the next ten years.
The guy in question had flirted with every female but her at the all-you-can-eat buffet, double-dipped in their shared bowl of salad dressing and then skipped out on the bill, leaving her to pay and get herself home. She'd been sixteen and if she hadn't ended up in the emergency room with a horrible case of food poisoning, she might have been able to put the night behind her.
But throwing up all over the only cute intern had been the last straw. She'd vowed never again, for any reason imaginable in this lifetime or any to follow, to ever go on another blind date.
Until tonight. "This is going to be a disaster," she muttered to herself as she handed her car keys to the valet and made her way to the front of a trendy west side restaurant. "I'm smarter than this. What on earth am I doing here?"
Dumb question, when she already knew the answer. She and her two sisters had been faced with a choice of who got the first shot at dating the infamous Todd Aston III. Their time-honored tradition of making all of life's truly important decisions with a rousing round of Rock, Paper, Scissors had left Julie the loser, and therefore the date. She was a sucker for the scissors and her sisters knew it.
She pulled open the sleek glass door and stepped into the crowded foyer. Apparently tables at this place were as hard to come by as free parking. She wove through the well-dressed crowd until she faced a very young, very thin, very pale hostess.
"I'm meeting Todd Aston," Julie said as she fought against the need to tell the girl that a sandwich wouldn't kill her.
The young woman glanced down at her reservation book. "Mr. Aston is already here. I'll show you to his table."
Julie followed the waif to the rear of the restaurant, trying not to compare her own size-normal hips to the nonexistent ones in front of her. Although feeling inadequate was actually more fun than sweating a meeting with Todd Aston III. How did anyone live with a number after his name? It made her think of Mr. Howell on Gilligan's Island, a late-night favorite when she'd been growing up.
She instantly pictured a younger version of Mr.
Howell, complete with striped slacks and a white blazer and was fighting the need to laugh when the hostess stopped in front of a table tucked in the corner and pointed to someone who very definitely did not look like an aging, pretentious millionaire.
Todd Aston stood and smiled. "Hello. You must be Julie."
Losing Rock, Paper, Scissors had never looked so good, she thought as she took in the fact that he towered over her despite the dangerously high heels she wore. Todd was handsome with dark eyes and a smile that reminded her just a little of the one Big Bad Wolf must have given Red Riding Hood.
He didn't look nerdy, desperate or inbred--and she had a feeling he wouldn't be sticking her with the bill.
"Hi, Todd," she said. "Good to meet you."
He held out her chair, which was a nice and unexpected touch, then moved back to his seat. The hostess left them alone.
She studied him, taking in the dark hair, the hint of a dimple on his left cheek and the subtle power tie that had probably cost as much as her last student-loan payment.
"So, this is awkward," she said cheerfully, deciding there was no point in ignoring the obvious.
His left eyebrow rose. "No social niceties where we ask about the weather and how the traffic was on the drive over?"
"Sure, if you'd prefer. The weather is beautiful, but hey, it's...
