3. Patience Is A Virtue

3

Patience Is A Virtue

Alice

"You look great!" Hayley says as I step into the living area. Emma is curled up in the reading nook with her Kindle in hands—reading nook's rule—while Hayley is lounging on the couch, scrolling on her phone.

"Yeah, you look amazing," Emma says, glancing at me. "Hope this guy's worth it."

Letting out a sharp breath, I adjust the bow that's holding my ponytail together. "Me too."

"I'm sure he is." Hayley winks before settling back into her seat.

A smile breaks onto my face. Hayley has never been completely against love, unlike Emma, but she used to be a lot less enthusiastic about finding a real man who's better than our book boyfriends. Then, she met my brother. Of all people, he's the one who changed the way she views love—and herself. I hope I'm that lucky one day.

I clap my hands. "All right, I'm off."

"Pepper spray?" Emma calls, not looking up.

I nod. "In my bag."

"Rape bracelet?"

I tug at the bracelet on my wrist. "On."

Emma nods in satisfaction. "Have a good night."

Hayley and I burst into laughter. You've gotta love Emma. Sure, she's kind of a Debbie Downer, but you can't get more real than her. Unfortunately, she has a point. Dating in a big city requires a few necessary precautions.

"Bye," I say with a smile. To be honest, I envy them—staying home, reading and hanging out while I put myself out there once again. I wish I could have found my match by now, like Hayley, or not have a care in the world when it comes to being alone, like Emma. But that's not me .

"Let me guess," a deep voice rumbles, startling me when I step foot on the sidewalk. Deacon is taking his trash out. The bar is lit, and low music emanates from inside. "You're going on another date."

I adjust my blazer and roll my eyes. Doesn't he have anything better to do than harass me?

"Another bad date," he adds.

Stopping, I cross my arms. "How do you know it's going to be bad?"

One of his eyebrows arches upward.

"Exactly, you can't possibly know that. It'll be terrific." Surely, a kindergarten teacher who loves sailing can't be "bad."

He looks at me for a second, as if trying to find something to say, then clears his throat. "I found your cat inside my bar again this morning. I told you to control that thing. It's unsanitary to have him in there."

I frown, trying to figure out why Mr. Darcy keeps going to his bar. We don't have that problem with the other neighbors. Usually, he stays inside the store and only goes out for quick strolls during the day. Plus, cats know when they're not welcome somewhere. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know why he goes over there."

"Well, you'd better figure it out." His tone turns icy. "If I get a fine, you'll be the one paying. "

Maybe Mr. Darcy is trying to protect us by getting Deacon's business to fail a health inspection. The original Darcy is a man of action, after all. Glancing at Deacon's mailbox, I pinch my lips. "Maybe if you put your name on the mailbox, he'd know that's not his territory."

Shooting me a glare, Deacon marches back inside, slamming the door in my face.

What a jerk! As I walk away, seething, I remember the letter I got for him earlier. It was addressed to Amelia Collier. I know that's not his daughter. I heard them arguing once, and he called her "Lola." I'm guessing Amelia is his ex-wife, or possibly his late wife? Maybe that's why there's an underlying melancholy in his eyes. I only notice it when he's on his own, unaware I'm looking at him, but I see it.

My date with Greg is turning out to be a disaster. If it wasn't for his eyes fixating on my boobs ever since I arrived, I'd say he seems nice. Maybe he's trying to make them grow by staring at them? Lost cause, buddy. I've tried.

We're far from the polished gentlemen in my historical novels or the perfectly flawed guys in my favorite rom-coms. Instead, I'm stuck with Greg, who decided to order for me and claims romance books are a waste of time .

Kill me now.

"Excuse me," I say to the waiter as he passes by. "Can I have some garlic butter on my steak, please?"

The waiter flashes a big smile. "Absolutely."

Greg frowns. "Are you sure it's a good idea to eat garlic?"

"Why not? I love garlic." Plus, you're the one who ordered a steak for me, I'm dying to add. If I can't choose my own meal, I might as well have it prepared how I like it.

He clears his throat before a roguish smile spreads on his lips.

My eyes widen. Does he seriously expect to have his tongue down my throat already? Ew. We've barely even talked yet.

Unfortunately, that quickly changes, and the evening goes from bad to worse. Who knew a kindergarten teacher could be this self-centered and salacious? It's always the people you least expect.

I purposefully ask for an extra creamy garlic sauce for my fries, making sure to finish the entire sauce cup. It's more like eating garlic sauce with a side of fries at this point, but it also tastes a little bit like payback. Hopefully, that'll keep Greg's mouth at a safe distance from mine.

Finally, we call it a night, and Greg must have gotten the hint, because he just waves goodbye before we go our separate ways .

What a waste of a night! Another one. This was my second date this week, and I have another one tomorrow. Though right now, I'm starting to reconsider.

Why can't I find a hot, single billionaire who's desperate to sweep me off my feet? Is that too much to ask? Actually, he doesn't have to be a billionaire. I don't even care about money. I think the real problem is that I wasn't born in the right century. I was made for a time when courtship was elegant. When you met men at classy balls, and etiquette was respected. Not a trip on the subway to meet a guy who barely looks you in the eye and has no interest in you as a person. How is that evolution?

When I arrive on our street, a pang of disappointment hits me. Deacon's bar is already closed. There might be something seriously wrong with me, but for a second, I hoped he'd be there. Sure, he'd probably throw me some irritating remark, but at least my heart would quicken, and I'd feel something other than disappointment and frustration.

With a long sigh, I unlock our front door and drag myself upstairs.

Emma and Hayley are both on the couch in their PJs watching TV. Taking a quick look at my defeated face, they make space for me between them .

I slump onto the couch, not even bothering to remove my shoes. I lay my head on Hayley's shoulder, and she strokes my hair.

"You should take a break from dating, you know?"

"But what if I miss out?"

She takes a deep breath. "Sometimes, you find things when you least expect them."

"Isn't that from Harry Potter?" Emma cuts in.

"Luna Lovegood?" I add, glancing at Hayley.

A grin stretches across her face. "I'm very proud of you two non-fantasy readers, but it's actually not Luna's quote. She says, ‘Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect. '"

"Right." Emma nods. "It's kind of the same sentiment, though. You have to be patient, not necessarily go out looking for it."

I sit up. "But I'm a proactive girl. I can't just sit here doing nothing when I know he's out there."

Emma snorts, which makes my jaw clench.

"If you don't believe in love, why do you read so many romance novels, Emz?"

She sits on her foot, showcasing her " Go Away, I'm Reading " socks as she shifts her position. "Because it's fiction . Romance is entertaining, but I know it's not real. Like Santa or unicorns, it's something society teaches us as kids to be real when it doesn't really exist. That doesn't make those things any less fun. Besides," she says, ruffling her dark fringe. "I've got the best BFFs in the world, not to mention the most awesome job on the planet. Why would I even need a man?"

A smile breaks onto my face. Emma's comment might come with a side of sarcasm, but it touches me nonetheless. She never says stuff like that.

"Aw, you're the sweetest," Hayley says, and I nod.

Emma scowls. "No, I'm not. I was just saying—"

"Yes, you are." I hug her tight, and Hayley joins in.

"You guys are smothering me," she grumbles, her voice barely audible.

"We can't help it, Emz," Hayley says. "That was just so cute. And real."

"Definitely," I add, accidentally eating Emma's hair in the process. When we break the embrace, I add, "But it would still be nice to have a man."

Emma and Hayley burst into laughter, and I soon join in. Hey. I might be single, but I do have the best friends in the world.