Happily Ever Never

Disclaimer: You will need tissues while reading this book. I apologize in advance for the swollen eyes and twirling stomach that may result.

Life is short. Embrace each day like it’s your last.

Chapter 1

Luck; something I’d never been blessed with.

As I sat there skimming through the slew of creepy men on this particular dating site my best friend signed me up on, I pondered if just once I’d come out winning. I didn’t have the charisma like Shawna Mills. She could speak to anyone and grab their interest. Someone once said she never met a stranger she didn’t know.

I’d always struggled with opening up to strangers. Ever since my mom passed away when I was fourteen, I yearned to find my own path. It didn’t help that my father, a police chief, told me every horror story known to man to make me assume you couldn’t even trust the people closest to you. I understood he felt that way from years on the force, and had some of his opinions not rubbed off on me, perhaps I’d be open minded about meeting someone on the internet and sharing a meal.

I lifted my middle finger from the arrow key and brought both hands up to massage my temples. I can’t do this anymore tonight. The choices seem to be getting slimmer as we scroll through. These men are disgusting. Half of them are probably on the sex offender list.

You can’t be that picky, Bails. Your vagina has cobwebs.  Ever since I started grade school my friends had called me Bails. Sometimes I questioned if  people even knew my full name. Maybe it just bothered me that I was named after a brave man, but was too embarrassed to mention it. My grandfather had fought in World War Two and lost his life. In memory of him I was given his name, Bailey Lee Ellis. I half wondered if having a man’s name had prevented the normal men from giving me a chance. Maybe they were too embarrassed to talk about having dinner with someone who could be mistaken for a male, or possibly they thought I might have been born one.

Shawna began tapping her long manicured fingernails on the table top beside me. I sighed and tried hard to think about how I wanted to reply. Did I say something witty, or admit I was doomed to fail when it came to finding my Prince Charming?

Just because I haven’t had sex in a while doesn’t mean I’m out of commission. There’s nothing wrong with being selective. Or smart. Was she not seeing these creepy profiles?

She spat out something under her breath. Says the chick who hasn’t seen a penis in years. You’re almost thirty.

In my defense I was busy. Not everyone turned eighteen and got handed a vehicle and apartment. My parents weren’t business savvy. They weren’t born into money, and neither was I. My father worked his ass off, risking his life every day just to put food on the table and pay the bills. Shawna couldn’t begin to imagine what something like that is like.

Back then I had to waitress at two different jobs to pay for my tiny room I once rented in the city. I never saw myself living in a shared space with strangers, but it was all I could afford at the time.

My father, being the man he was, was determined to convince me that living in the city of Baltimore was a terrible idea. He wanted me to attend school at the University of Maryland, Eastern Shore. It was situated in the country and the crime rate was next to none, plus the cost of living was affordable. Me being the defiant daughter, who intended to prove herself independent, went against his wishes and left the only home I’d ever known in the suburbs to experience whatever it was I thought I was missing. Had it not been for Shawna, I’d still be living in that crappy room, locking my door and putting a chair in front of it because I hadn’t taken the time to get to know any of my roommates.

I turned to face my friend; someone who was attempting to help me, even when I was too afraid to admit I needed it. If I pick one of these guys, will you leave me alone?

She crossed her arms over the front of her fancy cashmere sweater. Perhaps. Even with her blonde hair up in a messy bun, I took her seriously. Dressed down or to the max, Shawna had the same effect on people. She got what she wanted, always had and always would.

Fine. I closed my eyes and touched my finger to the screen. Slowly I cracked open my lids and paid absolute attention to the picture of the man I was about to reply to.

Shawna leaned forward to get a closer look. He’s not bad.

From the small photo I couldn’t tell much. He appeared to have all his hair, but there could have been a spot on the top or back of his head lacking follicles. I knew for a fact that all the stuff these guys added to their profiles were probably a bunch of lies. Not every guy likes long walks on the beach and candle lit dinners. This dude had even added that he enjoyed watching drama-filled television. He was either too good to be true, or far from what he was claiming to be. I didn’t care if he was sensitive, so long as he wasn’t a weirdo.

I tried to think of a comical response for my nosey – can’t mind her own business –best friend. He’s not great either.

It says he works at a school for the blind. That’s got to mean he has patience. Plus, he does have hair. I know how much you hate baldness. That’s a bonus.

I shoved her away. You can’t even tell from that picture. Your standards are ridiculous. He could be a serial killer. All these men could. What are you forcing me to do?

I could be a serial killer, Bails. How will you know if you never get your ass out of the house? Live a little. Write the guy back and ask him out for coffee. What if he’s the real deal?

Coffee? Why would people want to meet for coffee? It’s stupid.

It’s safe, she added. It’s a public place.

It’s ridiculous and leaves you with bad breath. How will I know if the guy I’m hanging out with has coffee breath or gingivitis? It was a logical question, one she didn’t find amusing.

Her arms flailed in the air. I give up.

I giggled and opened up the box to send a quick message. Chill out. I’m writing him now and asking if he’d like to go out for a drink. I refuse to ask about meeting in a coffee shop. If I’m doing this, it will be on my terms.

She leaned on the back of my chair. I could already hear the excitement in her voice, even though I didn’t exactly share the feeling. This could be the start of the rest of your life.

You read too many self-help books, Shawna. It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal.

Just promise you’ll be on your best behavior. No talking about science or history. You don’t want to scare him away, at least not on the first date.

I’m not an idiot.

And don’t you dare wear a cardigan. I turned to see her pointing at me. I mean it, Bails. Don’t screw this up. We’re not getting any younger, you know.

Just because you snatched your man already doesn’t mean it’s meant to happen for me. I can wait. If it doesn’t happen I’ll still be content with my life. Women don’t need a man to have fulfillment.

She began to crack up. You’re kidding me, right? You’re doing that thing you do to make yourself feel better?

She was correct. I’d become so used to being alone that I’d convinced myself it was okay. It wasn’t until I sat by myself in my room, listening to my best friend discussing marriage plans with her fiancé that it hit me. Sometimes I hated the fact that moving in with Shawna had only showed me the things I was missing in my own life, as well as what I never thought I’d be able to have. I knew I was awkward at times, but there had to be someone out there for me; someone who loved me for my flaws and could see past my fears.

As much as I’d hoped the guy hadn’t written me back, I had a date scheduled for the following Friday. In the days leading up, I didn’t put too much thought in it. I found that if I kept my optimism low, I didn’t get too disappointed when things wouldn’t work out.

For the whole week I’d known what I was wearing on my drink date with Tad Parnell. I’d picked out a pencil skirt with a button down blouse. It was a simple outfit that went well with my bobbed straight brown hair. After flattening out the fabric and giving myself a twirl to check out my rear in the mirror, I opened the door to find Shawna standing in the way. She had both hands on her hips and began shaking her head while addressing Nathan, her fiancé. Hey, babe. If you went on a date and the chick was wearing something like this what would you think of her?

I sighed and prepared for his answer, knowing I wasn’t going to like anything that came from his mouth. Nathan worked as a construction foreman. I pictured him wearing a hard-hat while checking out women as they strutted by the job site. Even though he treated Shawna well, I always felt like he had a wandering eye.

That outfit screams chastity belt.

Shawna lifted a brow and snickered. I knew you were going to need help. She pulled me into her master bedroom, which was triple the size of mine, and opened the double doors to her walk-in closet. Girl, I’m going to hook you up so good that no man will be able to turn you down, not even the gay ones.

I’m not trying to spread my legs for anyone, Shawna. It’s just drinks.

Drinks lead to more drinks, which leads to sex appeal, which leads to not giving a fuck.

This time I ignored her completely. I wasn’t a virgin, but I certainly was not the type of girl to hook up at a bar after just meeting someone. For the most part I’d already decided I was going to give it my all, even though I kind of knew in the back of my mind that it was unlikely to become anything serious.

Twenty minutes later I was standing in front of the mirror in a red chiffon dress with spaghetti straps. It was form fitting around my chest, but bumped out with an extra layer at the bottom. When she handed me stilettos, I felt as if I was being called in to try-out for an exotic dancer position. Are you serious?

As a heart attack. She shoved the shoes toward me. Just put them on. You’re going to be late.

I’ll be really late if I break my neck walking there.

One foot in front of the other, sister. That’s all you need to do. She gave me a once over and ran to her vanity full of makeup, bringing back a lip-gloss almost as bright as my dress. Put this on and get out of here. Mr. Right might be waiting for you.

Or Mr. Wrong, I thought to myself.

The fact that I was putting myself out there for a stranger wasn’t normal for me. I felt uncomfortable, like I should turn around and lie instead of going through with it.

After traveling the two blocks in the ungodly high heels, I stood inside of the little tavern with one goal.

I needed to get the shoes off.

Before I could duck into a private booth and pretend I wasn’t there for a date, I spotted a familiar face approaching me. At least he hadn’t used someone else’s picture on his profile. With a hand extended to me, and a smile displaying very large white teeth and bigger gums, he spoke. You must be Bailey. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

I pulled my hand away to motion for him to take a seat across from me. It’s nice to meet you, Tad. Did you have trouble finding the place? I’d left him the address assuming he had GPS on his phone.

He looked around while answering, as if he was being watched. Next time we do this I’ll be sure to get directions ahead of time. He said it with sarcasm, and since I didn’t know the first thing about the guy, it rubbed me the wrong way.

A waiter came over and we ordered our drinks. It was awkwardly quiet for a few seconds, but then Tad began to talk. Since I didn’t want to look him in the eyes, I focused on his clothes that were wrinkled. His blazer looked old, and the dark blue color made me think it was his one suit that he wore for funerals, or maybe when he abducted innocent women he met for coffee, or in my case, drinks. He kept running his hands through his hair, making it greasy with each stroke. Do you come here often? Since I could see discontent in his eyes, I thought back to what he’d ordered to drink. A tonic water.

Do you not drink alcohol?

Not at all. It’s bad for your liver. That one glass of wine you ordered is probably okay, but let’s face it: you’ll probably have way more. This isn’t my type of scenery. He peered around the room with a displeased grimace. I prefer coffee shops for dates. I should have known the place would be like this.

I raised a brow and tried to remain calm. It wasn’t like me to be so forward, yet this man was pushing my buttons. I gazed in the direction his eyes were coasting the room. In the far corner were some men playing billiards. An old rock song played from the jukebox, and there were quite a few people watching a ball game on the television at the bar. It wasn’t an awful place. It was obvious a lot of classy people came to this location to unwind. The fact that this man was so opinionated only made me want to raise my leg and kick him where the sun didn’t shine.

The more I stewed on his comment, the increasingly frustrated I became. So, you assume I’m a heavy drinker because I ordered a glass of red wine? I’ll have you know I barely go out at all. I spend most of my time in a lab, and when I’m home I’m usually studying my notes from the previous day. A glass of wine isn’t going to kill me. It helps me relax, and if you knew anything at all, you’d find that red wine is good for all sorts of ailments. I bit down on my bottom lip until I could taste the blood rising to it. I needed to be calmer. This was about first impressions. So far I was assumed to be a nasty slut who had a drinking problem. Then he took out a cloth handkerchief and blew his nose loudly in front of me. When he opened the fabric to look inside I wanted to hurl. No wonder he was on a dating site. This guy was hideous. Since I knew I never wanted to see this guy again, I decided to add some humor to the date. Instead of words I downed the first full glass, flagging the waiter down for another.

The glass of wine was sat down in front of me. I played with the rim while I contemplated what I wanted to say to this tool. So, you like coffee?

He perked up, as if it was some magical word. Well, of course. Everyone runs on Dunkin. He laughed at his attempt at a joke with a snort added in.

I literally almost spit my drink in his face when it happened.

Maybe next time we could meet at the shop closer to my side of town?

The fact that he could even assume I’d be interested boggled my mind. Next time?

Now that I know you’re not an alcoholic, there’s no reason why we can’t get to know one another more. His smile was now bothering me. I pictured him taking the laptop in the bathroom and beating off to profile photos, or worse, emoji’s. He probably got off on anime.

Let’s focus on this date. I cleared my throat. It says you work at a school for the blind.

I do. He downed his whole sparkling water and rattled the ice around in the empty glass.

So you’re a teacher?

No, he cackled. I’m just the custodian.

I was taken back by his answer. Oh, I got the impression you worked with the children.

God no. Those kids are brats. They’re worse than regular children, all needy and dependent. If I had it my way I’d move everything around at night so they’d constantly be confused. I hate kids. If my mother didn’t work there I’d have done it years ago. After his rude comment he folded his hands together. What about you? Do you want kids? I might be interested in making some, as long as it’s with someone that looks like you do.

It was so appalling that I stood up and immediately doused him with my full glass