Trials and Tribulations of a Blind Date

by Molly Whalen and Joanne Rawson

The Art of Embellishing Molly Whalen
Shay Mohan always thought honesty was the best policy and you treat people the way you want to be treated. And yet every relationship she had left her feeling burned until Zoe, her friend, took matters into her own hands and signed her up on an online dating site. Things begin to heat up when the 'White Knight' appears but is he really who he says he is or just blowing smoke?

Unexpected Blind Date by Joanne Rawson
If any of Grace Worthing's friends dared to suggest she should go on a blind date, her answer would have been, "Blind dates are so tacky; they are definitely for the desperate." She was so over men! After her fifth Sex on the Beach cocktail she told friends she would never have sex again, let alone have sex on a beach. Then, somewhere between her second and third tequila slammer, Grace found herself, agreeing to meet Adrian. Little did she know how interesting and unexpected her blind date would be.

How A Night Unfolds by Molly Whalen
Quinn Hancock had it all, a life that everyone dreams of, but few are able to attain. She was what you called a "triple threat," brains, beauty, and financially successful, but none of those things kept her warm at night. She thought a change of scenery to the windy city may be just the thing to breathe life back into her love life. When her friend tries to fix her up on a blind date with a business associate, Quinn quickly figures out the difference between a blind date and being blindsided.


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Genres

Chic Lit
Contemporary
Anthology

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"Trials and Tribulations of a Blind Date"

Excerpts

The Art of Embellishing

Molly Whalen

 

The alarm clock sounded and Shay rolled over to hit the snooze button.

“Oh shit,” she said as she heard the glass of soda hit the floor. As she peered over the edge of the bed to assess the damage, Luna popped her head out from underneath the bed and began licking the spot. “Looks like I’m not the only one who likes flat soda in the morning,” she said as she threw the covers off to the side of the bed. “If this is any indication of how my day is going to be, I’m in trouble.”

Shay fumbled through a pile of dirty laundry that lay at the bottom of her bed. She picked up a hand towel, but when she got back to the spot, it was virtually gone thanks to Luna. She had to laugh as she shooed her cat Luna away, saying, “I don’t know why I waste my money on Oxy Clean when I have you. Now if you’d only figure out how to load the dishwasher we’d be in business.”

She dabbed up the excess moisture then made her way into the kitchen to get spot remover. She sprayed a few squirts on the spot and went to the bathroom to start her shower. As the water warmed up, she stared into the mirror trying to wipe off the mascara from the night before and thought to herself, “I don’t know why I do this to myself, I’m not drinking anymore.” Then she chuckled to herself stating, “And I don’t know why I lie to myself either because I said the same thing last weekend.”

 

Unexpected Blind Date

Joanne Rawson

 

Frankly, if you asked me six months ago if I would give up my Tuesday quiz night with the girls, or go on a blind date, then my answer would undoubtedly have been, “Blind dates are so tacky. They are definitely for the desperate.” From the age of sixteen I have had fourteen years of dating, ten boyfriends, six of them lovers and, up until a year ago, had been in a four-year relationship that hit more icebergs than the Titanic. No, my blind date love boat days have well and truly sailed. I am so over men.

However, two weeks ago, Glenda, Nell, Christine and I, hit Cupids Cave—Nottingham’s notorious Saturday night hot spot for eighteen to twenty year old blushing brides to be, celebrating their last weekend of freedom. It was reluctant moral support for Glenda, who had been press ganged into her younger sister’s hen night. Like every member of our group, Glenda was proud not to be married.

Tucked away in a corner, I was not sure if I was more depressed that we were the oldest women in the club, or that I recognised so many of my ex pupils I had taught biology to in the past few years. At least three acknowledged me, flashing their diamond solitaires under my nose. They may not have found any ecological break-through, but one thing was certain, they had discovered a biological phenomenon that was oblivion to me, how to get a man and keep him.

Snivelling into my fifth Sex on the Beach cocktail, I began wallowing in a state of drunken remorse. Leaping from my bar stool I declared the fate of my future. “I will never have sex again, let alone have sex on a beach.”

“Of course you won’t, sweetie,” slurred Christine, pulling me back down. “You’re in a friggin nightclub full of friggin loved up women.” As Christine had told us a thousand times already tonight, a club with no men was sad as someone going into a wine bar and ordering coffee. “No offense, Glenda, but I need to find a club with some hot blooded men, and show those bad boys a good time.”

Nell, thirty-nine, a suffragette for women’s lib, now on her third pitcher of margaritas, for herself, slammed down her glass. “Sod it. It’s against all my princ—princ—oh bugger it.” She took a breath to stifle a hiccup. “Princ—iples, but the time is right for you, Grace, to meet Adrian. He has been with us only a few months at the nut house.” The nut house being our name for Fur Tree Mental health clinic, where Nell worked as a drama therapist. “He is single, thirty eight, very fit, plays a lot of sports, and owns his own house, and the catch is this; all he wants is a good time. Hell, if he was a woman I’d make a play for him myself.”

I shook my head vigorously. “No, no, no. No blind dates,”

Somewhere between my second and third tequila slammer, the girls had quashed all my issues of concern, emphasising all he wanted was a good time. And, as Glenda, quite rightly pointed out, “Jeez, Grace, you don’t have to marry the man.’ I found myself agreeing to meet Adrian.

 

 

How a Night Unfolds

Molly Whalen

 

As I stepped out of the cab, I was greeted by a familiar voice and the kindest eyes I’ve seen since my father’s passing.

“Well if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. Here, let me help you with your bag, Ms. Hancock.”

“Charles, it is always so good to see you, but how many times do I have to tell you to call me Quinn?” I said as he took my overnight bag from my hand. The driver went around the back, opened the truck and set my suitcase on the curb.

“Are we mixing business with pleasure I hope?” Charles questioned as I reached into my purse to tip the driver.

Hooking my arm in his and making our way through the main entrance I quietly whispered in his ear, “You know the only pleasure I have coming to town is seeing your handsome face.”

Once I reached the reception desk and was given my room key, Charles made it a point to let the young girl know that if there was anything I needed she was to call him immediately. He motioned to one of the bellhops, gave him my room number and then gave me a little wink as he went back outside. I looked around the lobby counting how many times I’d made this trip and the countless meetings I had conducted in their conference rooms, but this trip was going to be different. Instead of going directly up to my room, I decided to go into the bar and have a drink and relax before calling my friend Doris.

As I walked through the lobby I stopped to admire the flowerarrangement that sat just outside the bar area. I felt a smile creep across my lips as I leaned down to smell them. As I stood up, I noticed a gentleman watching me from inside the bar. I went inside, sat down and pulled my cell phone from my purse. Michael was working and began mixing my drink as I scrolled through my contacts looking for Doris’s phone number.

“This one is on the house,” Michael said as he set the martini down in front of me. “I didn’t think you were coming back up until later this month.”

“Normally I wouldn’t have, but I’m doing a favor for a friend and she’s meeting me here.”

“What’s the favor if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My friend, Doris, is pimping me out.” Michael’s eyes widened as he looked around the bar seeing if anyone else heard what I said. “I know … sad, but true. She says that I have everything in life but a man.”

Michael leaned closer on the bar and said, “Well if you need a man, my shift ends at midnight and I’d be more than happy to take one for the team.”

“I’m very flattered handsome, but I have nieces your age. And besides I enjoy the zoo, but I have no real desire to be a cougar.”