Crashing into Love Read online

Wren: He is and I’m not complaining, but if I were you, I’d take someone who cleans.

  Sutton: I get it. My housekeeping skills leave something to be desired, but this guy makes me twitch.

  Wren: He can’t be that bad.

  Sutton: He ordered dinner for me—without asking what I wanted!

  Wren: Ohhhhh.

  Sutton: Going back to my cupcakes now.

  Wren really is a good friend. It doesn’t matter that we’re in different seasons of our lives, I’m extremely thankful to have her. As an only child, friends like her become sisters of our choosing and she’s a wonderful one.

  I decide to take a quick walk to Oak Street Beach before crashing for the night. It’s nice to put on my headphones and walk around the city, taking in the smells, people and changes that happen so often. Plus, a bit of fresh air is good for the soul.

  Strolling along, I notice a new coffee shop has popped up where a bar used to be. I make a mental note to check it out this week.

  By the time I get back home, the summer sun is down and I’m ready to read and chill for the night.

  Nine

  Welcome to another day in paradise. Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice? Some days are harder than others and for me, today is one of those.

  “Sutton!” I hear someone bellow from down the hall. “Sutton!”

  “I’m right here.” I slide my feet into my heels and stand up from behind my desk, walking toward the sound of a bunch of men squealing like little girls.

  “What is going on?” I ask to a group of shocked faces. Baker is holding the door to the men’s room open and there is water—dirty brown water—filling the hallway.

  Looking at each of them, I step back and place my hands on my hips. This can’t be happening to me.

  “Seriously, guys! Seriously!” I lace my voice with disdain at the fact that these guys are standing around like a bunch of helpless little girls. “Why are you standing here? Do something.”

  I watch them as their eyes become as big as flying saucers. “If you do this stuff at home, why don’t you do it here? I promise you can get your suits cleaned.”

  Looking around, I shout directions because if we don’t stop the flow now, the whole place is going to be full of crap-infested water.

  “Hunter, go turn the water off at the main. Then stop and let Chari know.” Saying nothing, he turns and heads to the stairwell and to the basement where the main valve is. It’s not like Chari can warn anyone since the computers are down on top of everything, but she can at least warn my father, so I don’t have to.

  “Austin, go find the list of approved contractors. It’s in the binder marked ‘Contractors’ in the cabinet next to my desk.”

  “Baker, please dig out all the towels from the men’s lockers. I’ll grab the ones from the ladies’ locker room. Lang, can you cancel any meetings that you guys have today? The last thing I need is to explain to clients why our office smells like a urinal.”

  They both shake their heads. Baker walks around to the gym entrance to grab the towels from there and Lang heads to his office.

  I turn toward the ladies’ room and grab the towels from the shower cabinets. It may sound odd that we have lockers and a gym in our office, but it’s something that I use often since we moved into this space. Plus, I don’t have to smell the nastiness that is sweaty men.

  It takes Baker and me an hour to get the bathroom floor and the hall wiped up, so we don’t have a slip and fall accident.

  “The plumber should be here in an hour.” Austin’s deep voice is commanding, now that he’s not staring at toilet water flowing all over the office.

  “Thanks, Austin. I’ll let him in and show him where everything is.” He doesn’t wait around but is gone in a flash.

  I scoot the mop bucket full of dirty towels to the cleaning closet and leave a note asking the janitor to wash the towels tonight. This office should remember how much Martha does for us. She never complains and takes care of anything and everything that requires cleaning and laundry.

  “Please let me apologize for all of us and our antics,” Baker says from the door of the closet.

  “It’s fine.” I don’t know what to say. It’s not fine. I’m dressed as nicely as they are, and I’m standing here cleaning up their shit. Literally.

  He steps back as I try to slip under his arm and out of the tiny space. Gently, he reaches for my arm and spins me around where we’re standing chest to chest.

  “I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He looks down at me and his eyes are alight in a way I’ve never seen.

  “Don’t worry about it, Baker. But I’m leaving after the plumber gets here and you guys can deal with my dad.” I laugh haughtily and wink at him as I walk away.

  Just Say No

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  This blog post is fueled by a pissed off Capricorn who’s inhaling copious amounts of margaritas and tequila lime cupcakes. If you’re interested in reading more about the narcissist I went out with last week, here’s a better look into who he really is.

  Control Freak Mike: I’ll see you tonight at 7.

  Me: I told you I am busy.

  Control Freak Mike: I made reservations. Don’t be late.

  Control Freak Mike: And wear stockings.

  Me: Mike, I will not be there at 7. I have other plans.

  Control Freak Mike: Searching, I made a reservation for us. Do I need to change them?

  Me: Are you opposed to eating alone? No? Then go.

  Me: If you’re opposed to your own company for dinner, then I’d suggest you cancel them.

  Control Freak Mike: I’ll call you tomorrow to reschedule for next week.

  I couldn’t believe the messages that were waiting for me after a meeting. I immediately responded because I didn’t want him to think I would meet him. How many times does a woman have to say NO, before a man listens? If this is for a date, I can’t imagine how he would take being told no in the bedroom. I think I dodged a bullet with this one.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Ten

  I used to say I’d never date a lawyer. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that I made that rule for myself. I guess I was trying to play the field and branch out of my comfort zone. The guys I used to date before online dating, I’d meet in coffee shops, bars or at the bookstore. They were more hippyish than scholarly types. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best way to meet men, but it worked for me. I was naïve and failed to even consider they may be psychotic or a serial killer.

  This dating site is a combination of working with a matchmaker where they do the heavy lifting—picture verification, background checks, etc., and I like the simplicity of a reading a profile and swiping left or right. It’s still a boutique site because most people don’t want their backgrounds run, but when signing up, if you don’t agree, then you’re not granted access to the site.

  That’s how I knew Lawyer Mike would be very basic. His picture was probably the headshot he had taken at his firm when he joined, and his profile contained only simple details. There was enough information that I was totally fine with meeting him when he asked.

  Based on his messages, we’re going to meet at Spiaggia. Since this is one of the nicer Italian places in the area, I’m going to assume he must be comfortable to take a first date to a place this extravagant.

  I decide to dress up a bit and slip on my favorite silk cocktail dress. My red hair falls in loose waves and pops against the dark purple perfectly. It feels good on my skin and I feel good about myself. Adding my favorite black patent Mary Jane peep toes and I’m ready for a fun night out.

  The place is quaint yet still somehow swanky. Leading up to the door held open by a doorman who flashes me a friendly smile as I walk in, is a black rolled out carpet. The hostess stand is equally old school ornate.

  “I am meeting Mike Montgomery,” I tell the young woman, who seems to know him based on the way her face
lights up.

  “Oh yes, of course. I’ll show you to his table.” Wait? He has his own table? Who the hell is this guy?

  Said table is half a booth on a more intimate side of the dining floor. I still have a view of other diners in case I need to flash a warning look for help. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to do that.

  “I’ll have the staff bring you some water while you review the menus. Mr. Montgomery has a standard order.” The hostess flips her blond hair and sashays back to her post.

  I sit at the table and force myself not to fidget. I’m only five minutes early, so I’m shocked he’s not already here. When he strolls in a few minutes later, I stand to greet him.

  Lawyer Mike is tall, thank goodness. He has conventional good looks: dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. Broad shoulders and a trim waist round out the package. His suit fits him perfectly. The deep navy accentuates his brown eyes, and the crisp white shirt is unbuttoned at the top, with the tie loosened.

  “Sutton?” He shakes my hand and smiles. I don’t feel the electricity I expected, but his smile is warm and inviting.

  “Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” I smile back and his grip on my hand loosens as he slides into the other side of the booth.

  He sits in front of me with a calculated look on his face. I’m trying to decide if he’s as uncomfortable with this as I am. I try not to stare at him, but it’s difficult considering we’re both quiet.

  He breaks the silence. “Have you been waiting long?”

  “No, not very long. Do you come here often?” I answer him as the waiter pours me a glass of water. I cross my legs as I take a sip of the water.

  “Yes, I do. My office is down the street. We bring clients here frequently,” he explains. His voice is deep and even.

  “Oh, so this is more of a business spot for you than for dating?”

  He raises his eyebrows before responding to my question. “I suppose so. But I don’t think I’d bring different women to the same restaurant.”

  “Good thing Chicago has quite a few restaurants for you to choose from,” I quip.

  Mike chortles at my comment and shakes his head. “I don’t have much time to date. Work keeps me busy.”

  I nod, wanting to ask him more about what he does, but the waiter is back for our order. I’ve barely looked at the menu and decide to get the lasagna special. Mike orders a steak—medium rare, spicy ravioli and salad. I anticipate that this is his usual order based on the waiter’s response.

  “Right away, Mr. Montgomery. Your drink will be right out. Would the lady like a drink?”

  “A glass of the house red, Antonio.” I make sure to use his name since Mike comes here often.

  He gives me a small smile before nodding and walking away.

  “You’re a lawyer, correct?” He nods. “What type of law do you practice?”

  “I’m a partner at a mergers and acquisitions firm. We mainly handle large company mergers, but we also represent holdings as well.”

  That sounds exceptionally boring, but I smile at him.

  “Do you enjoy it?” I pry him.

  He shrugs as he leans back, keeping one arm on the table. “Mostly.”

  “And the other parts?” I lean forward, giving him an encouraging smile.

  “Let’s change the subject. I don’t talk about my work with anyone outside the firm.”

  He shuts down and I wonder how much he really likes the job. I decide to leave it alone because as a society we’re so focused on what the other person does, we don’t get to know them, just their job.

  “What about you?” he asks me his first question of the night.

  I take a sip of the wine Antonio dropped off before I answer, “My father owns Sterling Enterprises and I work for him.”

  “You sound like you don’t like it,” he states.

  I smile softly. “Some days I do. Some days it sucks being the boss’s daughter. But I spend a lot of time volunteering at a bookstore.”

  “Oh, I understand that. My father was a lawyer as well, and this is what he expected me to do. So, you like books?”

  I’m sure my eyes light up at that question. “I love them and have since I learned to read. I even have a book club with some of my friends. We use the time to chat about what we’ve been reading.”

  “That sounds nice. I don’t have many hobbies, I envy you.” He smiles at me.

  I cross and uncross my legs again as I giggle. “Really? No hobbies at all?”

  I drink more of the wine as he answers, “Not really. Work keeps me busy. I stay active by going to the gym, but that’s pretty much it.” He shrugs his shoulders and I smile at him. Under his monotone personality, he seems sweet.

  “Hmm. Well, I’ll help you find a hobby, if you’d like.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We continue chatting during dinner, and I really have enjoyed getting to know him. I don’t think this is a love connection, but I do think we could be great friends.

  We decide to go for a walk because we have enjoyed talking. About halfway down the block, he grabs my hand, but there are no sparks at all. That’s okay, friends are as important as boyfriends. I glance over and realize that he must be at least six foot four because even with heels, he’s a few inches taller than me. A couple blocks later, he hails a cab for me, and we make plans to get together again soon.

  “I really enjoyed tonight,” he says as the cab pulls up in front of us. Opening the door for me, I slide in and he leans into give me a kiss on the cheek before closing the door and the taxi drives away.

  Running Around

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  Time to laugh. Today has been epic in the worst of ways. I decided to run around town and get some stuff done. Notice I said run? I’ve always wondered why people say they are “running errands” when clearly, they aren’t running anywhere. They are driving, taking public transportation, or even walking, but they don’t generally run. But I digress.

  It’s errand day. Food shopping. Flowers. Dry cleaning. That sort of thing. I treat myself to breakfast or brunch depending on what time I leave, because I may be gone a while and there is no reason to head to the food store hungry. That just means I buy shit I don’t need. If I make an effort, I can start the day at Wild Berry and have some amazing Berry Bliss pancakes. They’re always worth getting up early for. Which means that’s exactly how I started my day.

  Then I headed off to Trader Joe’s for some cheap but gorgeous flowers and pantry staples. Next stop, the dry cleaners, then home. But alas the universe had other plans for me. While walking down the street with my hands full of food and flowers, the bottom fell out of the sky. You know what I’m talking about. The type of rain that soaks you to the bone in two point two seconds. Not the pretty misting rain that we dance in. This was torrential rain with thunder and lightning that shook the buildings. I ducked under an awning to ride out the storm, but it didn’t really help. It soaked my clothes to the bone, my food was falling all over my feet after the paper grocery bags fell apart, and the blooms were beat off my flowers.

  This storm totally shocked me because rain wasn’t in the weather forecast when I checked this morning. But sideways rain isn’t my idea of fun—especially on shopping day. Is it wrong that I built a pile in the corner and left it? I figured if someone took it before I could get back with a better water resistant bag, then they needed it more than I do.

  Since my pile of groceries was gone by the time the storm ended and I got back to the alcove—including the box of my favorite Trader Joe’s cupcakes—I decided to make some funfetti cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and sprinkles on top. Not sure what I’m drinking, it will all depend on how the cupcakes turn out.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Eleven

  I really enjoy keeping my blog readers up to date because they actually comment with their own experiences. That’s the best thing—coming together as a community and supporting each othe
r. Based on my analytics, we’re a group of mostly women, but there are a couple of guys that read as well.

  I rarely have too much drama, outside of the comments on the dating multiple men post, when commentators really weighed in on their opinions about how I should be able to date like men do. I’d say I’m hesitant to share too much more about my dating life, considering that’s where most of the rude and nasty comments have come from. Besides, it’s not like I’ve slept with anyone yet, and even if I do, that’s not something I’ll discuss for the world to see. What if my parents discover this? The last thing I need to do is answer my father’s questions about my sex life. Not no, but hell no.

  Still, I don’t want to lose all my viewers.

  It’s Saturday night, and I just finished This Man by Jodi Ellen Malpas. I’m so excited I already have book two, because all of us are loving this book and can’t wait to see what happens next. We’ve already planned to discuss the series at the next book club meeting because we’re all so excited.

  Checking the dating site after work, I realize I have a new message from Pilot Mike.

  He is asking if I want to get together for dinner on Friday. Why not? He’s good looking and kind. Despite the fact that he wants to send me a dick pic, I can’t help but say yes to another date because we really had a great time together. A few minutes later, I log off and make some dinner.

  Over my spinach and chicken alfredo, I FaceTime with Wren to check on her and see how she’s doing.

  “Hey” she says when FaceTime picks up. “It’s spaghetti night.” She rolls her eyes and holds out her arms, showing me all the red sauce she’s wearing.

  I laugh knowing she probably doesn’t think it’s funny. “Does that mean you’re busy?” I ask, tipping my head up at her.