Mid Life Love (Mid Life Love #1)(47)
“Morning. What time is it?”
“Seven. Would you like to get breakfast together or have some delivered before you leave?”
“No thank you.” I slid out of his arms and sat up. “I have a bunch of errands to run so I’ll get a head start on those.”
“Of course. Are you going to Mr. Barnes’ Zen session tonight?”
“On a Saturday? Never. My mom claims that she has a surprise for me so we’re probably going to the opera together. That’s what all her surprises are, and I’m sure she’ll want to get there two hours early.”
“Why would she want to do that? They don’t open the theatre until an hour before the show.”
“Don’t ask. She’s the eccentric type.”
He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Should I give up on getting you to willingly go out with me?”
“Probably.” I tried not to smile and headed for the bathroom.
I managed to get out of the salon early, finish grocery shopping, balance my checkbook, sift through a few campaign documents, and stop by my daughters’ cheerleading car wash—all before six in the afternoon.
As soon as I was home, I searched through my closet for an outfit to wear tonight. My mom always suggested that I dress “for the Oscars” when we went to the opera, just in case the city newspaper decided to run our photo the next day.
I decided to wear my favorite black and silver evening dress. It was long, strapless and perfectly hugged my hips. There was also a fairly deep slit on the left side, a perfect complement to the open-toed shoes I planned to wear.
I carefully brushed on my makeup and ran my fingers through my curls. I secured the glittery diamond bracelet Jonathan had given to me for my birthday onto my wrist, and rushed out of my house.
“Mom! Mom! I’m here!” I stepped inside her house and shouted up the steps. “We have to leave in the next twenty minutes if you want to—” I noticed a blond-haired man standing in the middle of the room. “Who are you?”
“Wow...” He looked me over. “I’m Michael Clarkson. I’m—”
“He’s your date for tonight!” My mom turned the corner. “Remember? Michael, you can wait in the living room. I need to talk to Claire for a second.”
I didn’t bother waiting for him to step away. I grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the kitchen. “Mom, what’s going on? I thought we were going to the opera. I never agreed to—”
“Surprise! See? I am capable of being spontaneous,” she said. “The girls told me how you’ve been working so many late hours over the past couple months, so I thought this would be a good way to get you out.”
Jesus...
“Mother, last time I checked, I was an adult. I don’t need you intervening in my life and I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do. You deserve to find someone else, someone who will treat you right. I liked Ryan a lot, but you can do much better. It’s never too late to find love again, and I don’t want you to end up alone...like me...”
I rolled my eyes at her not-so-subtle sympathy plea. “Who is he?”
“He’s my doctor—my gynecologist actually.”
“What!”
“Don’t worry. It’s not what you think. He’s not my direct doctor. He actually owns the practice, so for the most part he just analyzes the bacterial slides and—”
“Thank you. I’ve heard enough. You were at your doctor’s office and you told him you had a sad and depressed daughter who needed a new man in her life?”
“No, I didn’t tell him any of that. I just said you should get to know my daughter. She’s beautiful and charming. That’s all it took...He’s forty five, doesn’t have any kids, has a few investment properties on the East Coast, and he’s a doctor. Enough said. You should get to know him.”
“I can’t believe this...”
“Believe it!” She pulled me back into the living room. “Michael, Claire, you two go and have a great night together,” she said, smiling at the two of us. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about so...” She darted her eyes towards the front door.
“Have a good evening, Miss Gracen.” Michael gave her a hug and reached for my hand. “Are you ready?”
I buckled myself into Michael’s Mercedes and noticed that his name was engraved on the dashboard’s wood paneling.
He revved up the car and smiled. “I think your mom calling you ‘beautiful’ may be the biggest understatement I’ve ever heard.”
I smiled and leaned back in the seat, stealing a glance of him whenever I had the chance. He was strikingly handsome—sexy actually. His honey colored hair was gleaming in the sunlight and his big brown eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he turned to look at me.
From the way his black suit fit his body, I could tell that he worked out, that he kept himself in excellent shape.
Yet, despite his good looks and radiating charm, I didn’t feel any sparks between us. Then again, I’d just met him.
We didn’t talk much on the ride over, except for commenting on whatever song was playing on the radio. The long stretches of silence were quite awkward—even more awkward whenever our eyes met and we both clumsily smiled and turned away.