Better Off Wed by Portia MacIntosh EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Portia MacIntosh
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Women’s Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
You only get one chance to make a first impression. Absolutely nailing it,
the first time you meet someone, is all that matters. The details, the long
story, the truth – all of that can be figured out later.
‘Olivia Knight?’ a tall, skinny man with longish blonde hair and dark
blue eyes asks me.
‘Yes?’ I reply, with enough (but not too much) enthusiasm. ‘Scott
Mason?’
I instantly feel stupid for saying his last name, but he did say my full
name. Wow, I’m overthinking things already.
‘The one and only,’ he replies unenthusiastically. ‘Take a seat.’
I sit down at the table opposite him. The butterflies in my stomach are
going berserk.
‘So, how are—’
‘Listen, I’m a busy man, I’m sure you’re a busy woman, so I’m thinking
why don’t we skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase?’ Scott suggests.
Scott has seriously pronounced smile lines, which is ironic, given how
immediately unfriendly he seems. His light auburn hair is receding, but only
from the sides, so he has this sort of vampirical peak of hair in the middle of
his forehead, only made worse by the way he quite literally is looking down
his nose at me. Oh, this is going so well.
‘Oh, right, yeah, okay,’ I babble. ‘Sure, let’s skip the formalities.’
‘Why are you still single?’ he asks me.
Oh, boy, that really is cutting to the chase.
‘You’re, what? Thirty-five? Thirty-six?’ he presses.
‘I’m thirty-one,’ I reply.
Yikes. I hope he’s read my profile wrong, as opposed to getting a much
older read from my face in real life. I don’t feel like anyone looks thirty-six.
Either you can still pass for your twenties, you’re wrongfully assumed to be
in your forties, or you simply look ‘in your thirties’. No one can pinpoint
thirty-six. At least, I’m hoping not, anyway. I’ll be fiercely maintaining that
I’m in my ‘early’ thirties until I hit thirty-five. After that, I imagine I’ll style
out ‘mid-thirties’ for as long as I possibly can. It’s not so much that I’m
bothered about my age – it’s just a number, and one you can’t do much
about anyway – but when you’re in the position I’m in, you have to think
about these things.
‘Thirty-one?’ he replies.
God, don’t say it like that, whatever that is.
‘Thirty-one,’ I say again.
‘Okay, why do you think you’re still single at thirty-one?’ he asks. He
awaits an answer with a furrowed brow and a curious stare.
Wow, he makes it sound even worse when he puts it like that.
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