Excerpt from Finding My Night: Nick and Bree

I cannot even believe this man. Who is this perfect? He’s built like a god, he’s kind, he loves art, he listens to great music, he loves good food and he helps the homeless? Seriously, all he needs is a kitten rescued from a gutter and women’s clothes will just start to fall off randomly when he walks in a room.

While I’m marvelling at how perfect he is and how much I wish I had Veronica’s trust fund so that I could charm my way into his gallery, then his heart, and then his bed, he clears his throat.

“So, this morning Veronica told me she can’t make the opening,” he says gruffly, glancing at me. I meet his eyes, not sure how to respond, because, my inner voice is screaming, I know, and I’m glad, she’s a snotty bitch and I have no idea why you waste time with her outside of selling her paintings she doesn’t actually appreciate and I sincerely hope those ruby red lips of hers have never been anywhere near your skin because it doesn’t matter how much money she has she is wrong for you, and I wish I was right because you are amazing and gaaaahhhh, which doesn’t seem appropriate.

Luckily he continues. “I had actually lined up Williams’ daughter, Laurel, as a replacement, this is just the kind of event where people are more at ease if I’m not a single guy alone. Apparently I’m not very ‘approachable’.” He shrugs and continues, “So here’s the thing, Laurel has a flight tomorrow very early and she’d rather not go...so I was wondering if you would like to come instead.”

Hoping to hell that my face is doing a good job of hiding the fireworks that just went off in my brain and lit the butterflies in my stomach on fire, I stare at him for a moment.

“Yes, I could do that.”

His face clears and he smiles, “Great. Of course I will pay for your time, shut up, and if you’d like, this afternoon go ahead and use the credit card, shut up, get something to wear, whatever you need ohmygod shut up. It’s kind of formal, evening wear, unless you have something...?” He trails off uncomfortably, so I keep my smile plastered on my face because, no, I don’t actually have evening wear. Also his offer, while awkward as all hell and making me feel like a hooker, is generous and being made because he is kind.

“That’s really nice of you Mr. Mason, I’m going to take you up on that, when would you like me ready to go?”

He gives a relieved sigh that I’m not supposed to hear.

“I’ll see you at seven, and Breanna, could you please call me Nick?”

“Only if you call me Bree...all my friends do.” He looks surprised for a moment and then nods.

“Fair enough, Bree.”

I smile, astonished at my own boldness and this crazy turn of events, and get up from the table. As I gather lunch dishes and head to the sink, I hear his chair shift back as well, and glance over my shoulder. His eyes catch mine with a tiny flicker of guilt, as he rips them away from staring at my butt.

So glad I can turn to the dishes and the sink because, once again, stupid blushing, my smile widens and I allow myself a teeny tiny dream about how tonight might end.