38 – work in progress
A novel I’m working on 
Meet Elizabeth Reed
Elizabeth was late. As usual. This time to her own birthday dinner, although she’d much rather stay home and hide under the covers. Turning thirty-eight was only okay if you felt accomplished—in every aspect of your life—and Elizabeth hadn’t crossed off all the things on her list of milestones.
Weren’t men supposed to love women without baggage?
There was no ex-husband lurking around the corner, and there were no children to scare away any future man. There was, however, a master’s in journalism, a fairly impressive resume, and a backbone. That combo seemed to repel men just fine. No need to add a divorce to that pile of “I’m independent, so I don’t need a man.”
Rounding a corner, she finally caught sight of the restaurant where she was meeting her friends. She’d taken the Metro from where she lived in Old Town to Penn Quarter, and she had every intention of sleeping in Tessa’s guest room tonight. She lived in this neighborhood, and Elizabeth wanted to get drunk enough to forget today ever existed in her calendar.
“Elizabeth!”
About to open the door to the restaurant, she turned to see who had called her name. She grinned when she saw Ryan walking briskly toward her.
Ryan Maxwell had everything Elizabeth wanted in a man—except for an interest in her.
Too bad he didn’t find size fourteen attractive in a woman. Elizabeth sighed internally. Not that she knew what kind of woman Ryan went for; he kept his dating life separate from their circle of friends. But she could imagine tall blondes—skinny, of course—on his arm, not a fun-sized food critic who declared war with her scale every Monday morning.
oOo
“In public we tell her how happy we are for her. In private, we hope she has an ugly baby.”
*
“I don’t want to go to whatever.com and find my perfect match!”
*
“I cry, you know.”
*
“No, during the ’90s, I listened to Spin Doctors and thought I was alternative.”
oOo
And let’s meet Ryan Maxwell:
Ryan watched, amused, as Elizabeth peeked into the gift bag. Inside the restaurant, he could see the rest of their group waiting, but he wasn’t about to rush this. Being friends with Elizabeth gave him the real person, and it was worth watching.
When they’d met through a mutual friend a few years ago, Ryan had been introduced to a shy and reserved woman. She was informal, too polite, and kind of stiff. He’d been drawn to her beauty—her heart-shaped face framed by dark, shoulder-length hair, light green eyes, soft curves…and let’s face it, stellar tits and a spectacular ass…but her personality: no. No way in hell.
Now, though? Now she’d changed. Or rather, Ryan wasn’t a stranger anymore, so Elizabeth allowed him to see the real her. The woman who probably invented sarcasm, who crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue behind the backs of rude waiters, who sometimes laughed until she cried, who could spend a fortune on shoes but complained about the cost of Nutella, who could only watch sports if there was a crowd to rile her up, and who hated coffee but loved tiramisu.
Unfortunately, she was happy to be single. She was one of those who preferred to be an aunt instead of a mom.
It was only recently Ryan had started thinking about settling down. He’d spent the past twenty years building his company, and it was first now he wanted more. The traditional family life. It appealed to him. He even had plans to cut back on his travels.
Once upon a time, he’d been the personal trainer who couchsurfed in order to save up for more education. Then he’d become the massage therapist who could barely afford a rat nest of a studio. Then he studied business. Then law. And he started building his fitness empire. Now, approaching the age of forty-two, he could soon sit back and enjoy it all. There were people to do his bidding.
oOo
“The one who demands perfection ends up disappointed. I’m not perfect. I’m human.”
*
“Is this where I agree with you and say all men are pricks?”
*
“Hold up. He knew your favorite soda was Diet Coke, so he ordered it for you, but it was offensive of him to presume it was what you wanted because it might’ve implied that he thinks you’re fat? Did I get that right? Oh, Christ.”
*
“If something doesn’t taste quite right, I add more ketchup. The answer is always ketchup.”
*
“We want to feel needed. Think about that next time you open a jar. Perhaps you can pretend you’re not strong enough to do it.”
oOo
Stay tuned for more info
