Billionaire Baby Daddy
Page 90
“Nope. By the way, why is your English so good?” Chase asked me with suspicion in his voice.
“Oh, I’m really a suburban housewife from the States and just pretending to live in the tiny country of Liechtenstein.”
Many times people asked me about my English and why it was so good. The truth was I really liked English from the moment we started to learn it in school. Plus, I was a big fan of all the American culture television shows, movies, and music. Most of the things I watched were in English, and I really felt like it was a solid second language for me. I didn’t even have to think very much about what I was saying before I said it.
The silence that followed my little joke made me very uncomfortable, though. I really hoped he didn’t think I was being serious. I liked to joke around a lot and anyone who knew me would say that it was one of my best qualities, but I wondered if Chase thought I was being serious.
“It was a joke,” I said.
“Oh, I know. I was just busy feeding my catfish.”
I laughed way harder than I probably should have laughed. His reference to the MTV show Catfish was something that made so much sense to me. MTV was one of my favorite things to watch from America, and I watched every episode of Catfish.
The show was about people on the internet pretending to be other people and then, when they finally got to meet them, they were surprised. It was the perfect comeback to my comment, and I loved that Chase had a good sense of humor.
“Very funny,” I said through my laughs.
“You might think I’m a total pervert when I say this, but would you mind if we Skyped?”
At first, the idea seemed like a good one. I could see him and see if he really looked like he did in his pictures. But then, I realized he would get to see me, as well, and I had spent the day cleaning and lounging in bed. My hair was hideous and my face all oily; I needed some time to at least take a shower.
“I was just about to hop in the shower. Could we do it in an hour or so?”
“Definitely, but I’m going to actually call in an hour, and you better answer.”
“I’ll answer.”
We both sat on the phone for another couple of seconds before I just decided I should hang up. It was awkward and I probably should have said goodbye or something, but I didn’t. The whole idea of talking to someone as a first date was really weird. I wasn’t sure it was going to work out for me. I liked to see someone, touch them, and feel the chemistry between us. It wasn’t going to work that way with a guy from across the world.
As fast as humanly possible, I finished cleaning up my apartment and got into the shower. I thought about how I should wear my hair and how I should dress to meet him for the first time. I knew he would want to see my apartment, and I would have to show him around via the camera, but I hated that he would see just how horribly I was living.
My nerves were going crazy as I dried my hair and put just a touch of makeup on. I didn’t want to look totally done up and like I was trying to impress him, but I also couldn’t look like a slob, either. My heart raced as I waited for him to call me.
I finished getting ready and logged into my Skype account on my phone. It wasn’t the best connection over the cell service towers, but it was the only internet I had that could Skype. My internet in the apartment complex went out constantly, like every couple of minutes. I had tried to Skype with my mom from my laptop, and it hadn’t worked at all.
I stared at my phone as the call came through. My nerves felt like the same as they did when I had gone on first dates before. I tried to take a few deep breaths and relax before I clicked to answer the call.
My heart pounded in anticipation, and I slowly reached up and clicked to accept the call. I sat there and stared at my phone as I waited for his picture to come across, and then I saw my own reflection and repositioned myself so I didn’t look quite so crazy.
“Oh my God,” Chase said, as our pictures came in and we could see each other.
“What?”
“You are so beautiful. I didn’t think you were, really. And, I really didn’t think you were that beautiful in person.”
Instantly, I became deathly shy. He was so handsome. I couldn’t believe I was talking to an American who looked like a movie star and wanted to talk to me. Chase had brilliant blue eyes that were ten times prettier in person than they were in his pictures. His skin was tan and his face looked like he took care of himself. I couldn’t see much of his body, but I assumed that was just as delicious as his face. My eyes looked at his lips and focused on them as he talked.
“I love your eyes,” I said like a total dork.
Embarrassment had overcome me and I found it hard to look at him. He was dressed in a dress shirt that was unbuttoned a little in the front, as if he just took his tie off to relax. His face had a little bit of a scruffy beard on it, which I loved. It was trimmed up and matched his chestnut brown hair.
I kept peeking up at him and then had to look away when I saw his huge smile and eyes looking back at me. It was insane just how handsome he was. He really did remind me of those movies stars I saw from America. I couldn’t figure out why on earth he was on the OK Love app.
“Thank you, Jordan,” Chase said very sweetly. “I really don’t know what to say. I thought all the women were fake on that site. I’m still in shock at how beautiful and real you are.”
We continued to look at each other and both of us smiled. I felt it, and I know he did as well – an instant connection between the two of us. There was chemistry even thousands of miles away. Guys like Chase just didn’t exist in my realm. I had never met a man who was as handsome as he was anywhere in my country. Oh, I’m sure they exist; I just wasn’t around them in any of my day-to-day life.
Originally, when I became a nurse, I thought I would find a doctor and marry him. I quickly learned that no young doctors come to Liechtenstein. They go to Switzerland or one of the other, larger countries in Europe. The only doctors who stayed in Liechtenstein were ones who had families or were retiring soon.