Baby Be Mine(Spinsters & Casanovas Series Book 1)(29)

“Enough about me. I can’t wait to see who’s first on your dating list,” Elise said, jumping to the laptop. Whitney followed, sitting on the other side.

“There’s a list of potential suitors already?’ Elise eyed the screen.

Clarice, interested now and eager to see that list, squeezed herself between her two friends. She looked at the different profiles of the many males on display.

“They sure matched it fast,” Clarice exclaimed at the staggering number that appeared on screen.

“Life is all about living in the fast lane now,” Whitney said. “Here, let’s see. Mmm, looks impressive.”

“That one looks nice. Pleasant, with glasses,” Elise suggested, pointing to a man with mousy brown hair. “What’s his name, Darcy or something?”

“No, too dorky. He needs to be professional-looking. I don’t want Clarice’s man to be dorky,” Whitney said.

“Well, how about this one? He seems nice.” Elise pointed to another profile on the screen.

“Elise, you can’t judge if someone is nice or not by their looks,” Whitney said.

“But you just judged that man by his looks. You said he was dorky,” Elise countered.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Whitney apologized.

“Enough, you two. It’s my man we’re looking for. He needs to be attractive to me. Not you two,” Clarice shouted at both of them. She was getting a headache again. Dear heaven, all this talk about babies and partners was really draining her energy.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, Clarice,” they both said. They both knew when Clarice got mad not to go near her. It was like a gentle pig transforming into a wild bore right in front of their eyes.

“Now we just have to wait until tomorrow to see which one they pair you with first,” Elise said simply, sitting back to watch the laptop screen as more profiles popped up.

“Yes,” Clarice said, looking forward to her very first date with the man that could potentially be the father of her baby… and maybe more. She was looking forward to tomorrow indeed.





CHAPTER 7





Hunter stared at the rigid woman in front of him, sitting straight like a jukebox with palms folded on top of each other, her eyes looking intently at the tablecloth, as if finding the embroidered fabric so fascinating. He took his time to eye her. She was of reasonable height, thinly built with glossy blond hair parted to the left of her face, displaying dangling silver earrings. If he could describe her, she would be classified as pretty but definitely not his type. Hunter’s style would be petite, with voluptuous breasts that would fit right into his hands. This woman couldn’t be more than an A-cup.

“So,” he said, trying to think of any topic at all to converse about, but none came to his mind. They’d been in the restaurant for well over fifteen minutes, but all she said in that amount of time was her name, Caroline, and her order to the waitress.

Where did his dad find these women? What kind of deal were they thinking of doing? And why must he play a part in their stupid arrangement anyway?

Hunter tapped his finger on the tablecloth. If he didn’t say anything soon, he was sure his brain would combust from boredom. He needed a distraction. His eyes glanced around the restaurant.

It was a beautiful construction, a classic red, gold, and white theme. Anton had booked the reservation, boasting that the food was fantastic. He had never been to a Cambodian restaurant before, but Anton had an excellent palate, so Hunter trusted his judgment.

The area they sat in was a very secluded spot, nestled up on the second level overlooking Auckland Harbor. Must be the VIP section, Hunter thought. At this time of evening, the sun kissed the sea, showing off a brilliant yellow-orange hue on the calm water below. The quiet melodic music and the dimly lit lampshades created a romantic atmosphere. But he didn’t feel romantic in the least. Well, not with the jukebox lady anyway. Now if it were a beautiful petite woman sitting in front of him, then it would be a different story. Heck, even the woman that spat on him last week would be better than the jukebox now.