The Feline Gaze
Page 7
“Hey, don’t let yourself get so down,” she says. “There are lots of people here tonight. What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything,” I say, sipping the rum and soda. “Anyone.”
“Wow,” she lets out a long, low whistle. “That bad, huh?”
“You aren’t single and available to attend a wedding with me in two weeks, are you?” I ask, suddenly looking up hopefully. The woman laughs and holds up her hand. A bright gold ring sits on her finger.
“Sorry, love,” she says. “You’re two years too late.”
“Congratulations on the nuptials,” I murmur, staring into my drink.
Maybe I should just cut my losses and accept the next person who approaches me. After all, let’s be honest: Alastair’s wedding is just a one-day event. The person I bring doesn’t have to be marriage material. It doesn’t need to be someone I completely get along with. I’m not making any promises here. All I really need is someone who can be interesting for one night.
One single, solitary night.
Is that too much to ask?
Someone needs a beverage, so the bartender moves away and starts to make their drink. While she’s gone, I turn and take another look around the room. It’s busy tonight, as it should be. It’s a special event, after all. Shifters f
rom all over Lyon County are here trying to find someone to connect with. Perhaps I shouldn’t have wasted my time coming here, but hey, I’m feeling desperate.
Besides, my friend Kaleb said that this is the exact bar he met his current boyfriend in, so there’s hope for me.
There’s always hope.
Only as I sip my drink, downing it perhaps a little too quickly, I can’t help but wonder if every person I meet in here is going to be like Greg. Does every guy think that a woman should stay at home and pop out kids? Does every person think that a woman’s place is in the kitchen?
There’s nothing wrong with that lifestyle. Not at all. I know that a lot of women are totally happy being stay-at-home mothers and having lots of kids, but that’s just not me. I want the excitement of going to work each day and making a difference. I want the craziness that comes from launching a new house for sale. I want the joy of showing people a home they could use to start their own families in.
I love the meetings, the chaos, and the money that comes from having a high-powered career.
I love feeling like I’m on top of the world.
Is there any chance I’ll be able to find someone who feels the same way?
Will I ever be able to find someone who likes that I’m addicted to my job?
A man across the room waves, catching my attention, and I turn to him. My eyes narrow as I see who it is. I swallow hard and my anxiety levels rise. I try to look away and act uninterested, but of course, Lester has never been one to shy away from confrontation. Maybe he doesn’t read social cues or maybe he just doesn’t care that I’ve made it obvious I’m not interested. No matter what the reason he keeps coming close to me might be, though, I’m totally over it.
I probably should have anticipated that Melanie’s own cousin would be at this mixer. After all, Tigress is a small town. Still, I hadn’t really considered that the person I was trying to avoid being set up with would be at this event. I should have considered that he, too, would need a date for the wedding, but I didn’t.
Fuck.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he says, standing beside me. He leans comfortably against the counter and I look down at my drink. There’s not really anything wrong with Lester except that he gives me the creeps. Is that a valid reason for not dating someone? Is it acceptable to say something like, I’m sorry, but you make me uncomfortable?
“Nice opener,” I say instead, choosing to be at least a little bit polite.
The bartender laughs and turns away. Obviously, she can tell how much I hate this interaction. She also knows how totally desperate I am tonight, so the fact that I’m trying to turn down Lester should tell the world something about the kind of person he is.
Lester, however, either doesn’t notice my lack of interest or, once again, he just doesn’t care. It’s his carelessness and lack of awareness that bothers me more than anything else. Well, that and the fact that he’s a generally rude person. I’ve met him a few times before and I’ve never really understood why so many people seem to like him. He’s bold, and he’s a bit driven, but he’s also overbearing and impolite.
“So, what are you looking for tonight?” He asks me.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re here for the Meet and Mingle, right?”
The person or people who arranged the blind date mixer didn’t go all out when it came to the name. If I had arranged this little get-together, I would have chosen something a little punchier, like Meet and Mate. I mean, it sounds totally sexual, but isn’t that the fun?