Best Dating Rules, Tamie Dearen [literature books to read txt] 📗

and go on the hike.” She kept her gaze fastened to her hands.

“The long hike this weekend? The one with the overnight camping trip?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the camping thing. Maybe next time.” She glanced up with a shaky smile.

“Sure. Next time. See ya later.”

He pondered Emily as he returned to his desk. She was definitely acting awkward. Was it because of what Grace had told her about Becca’s phone calls? He tried to think of some casual way to let her know the truth. Well, the truth about Becca. He didn’t want her to know he’d never actually dated any girls before—she’d think he was a geek.

His phone vibrated with another message from Becca. She’d already sent three texts that day. What this time?

Found a new drink to try tonight. Slippery Nipple. LOL!

Why would she send him a text like that? The girl was certifiable. He turned his phone off and tried to concentrate on work and ignore his headache. And his heartache.*****

Emily couldn’t decide what to wear to her date—no, her meeting—with Asher Denning. It wasn’t a date according to strict interpretation of the Best Dating Rules. She’d planned to dress casually until Becca suggested wearing a dress.

She’d avoided talking to Charlie about it, suspecting her sister might disapprove. But after pulling almost everything she owned out of the closet, she gave up and called her.

“Hey, Sister,” Charlie answered. “It’s about time you called. I’ve called twice this week, and you didn’t call back.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been... busy. But, I need clothes advice for tonight. Can you Skype with me?”

“Sure. Give me a few seconds.”

They connected on Skype, and Charlie appeared on the screen, her curly hair tucked up in its usual baseball cap. “You must be desperate to be asking me for advice on what to wear.” Charlie chuckled. “You usually scoff at my wardrobe.”

“That’s not true. You have great taste in clothes, but you usually choose not to wear your cute things and dress like a guy instead.”

“Yes. That’s because I like to shock people when I actually dress up. So what’s the deal tonight?”

“I’m going to get coffee with my new art teacher. We’re gonna talk about my options. He thinks this class may be too elementary for me.”

“And you couldn’t have talked about this after class? And you’re worried about what to wear. Let me guess. This isn’t a fifty-year-old, fat, bald guy. Is it?”

“No. He’s thirty two and really good-looking. Blond. Weight lifter. English accent. But it’s not a date. We’re meeting at the coffee place, and I’m planning to buy my own drink.”

“So, you’ve decided to start dating, and you’re not giving Spencer the first shot?”

She’d known Charlie would react like this. “It’s not a date. I told you—”

“I know what you said. But, you’re wearing your hair down, and that look on your face tells me you might let him kiss you if he tried.”

She felt heat rising in her face. “I would not!”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Whatever you say. Tell me about the place you’re going. And what are my clothing options?”

Emily picked up the computer and pointed it toward the bed littered with clothes.

“Ohmygosh! That’s everything you own.” She sighed. “Pants, shorts, dress?”

“Well, Becca said I should wear a dress to this place.”

“Becca?”

“Yes. That’s one of the girls from the hiking trip. You know—Betty Boobs?”

“And you’re taking advice from her?”

“No, I’m asking for your advice.”

“Okay. I wouldn’t go really dressy. Why don’t you wear a skirt and a blouse?”

“This one?” Emily held up one of her black linen work skirts.

“No. Wear something short. You might as well show off your legs. Yeah, that one.”

“I have to be careful how I sit in this one. It’s really short.”

“But it’s tight. If they’re short and loose, you have to worry about the wind catching them.”

“Okay. And the blouse?”

“Wear that black one with the ruffles.”

“You don’t think it’s too low cut?”

“No, it’s not even as low cut as what most people wear to work. It’s seems low cut to you because you’re not used to it. And wear a necklace, you know, the black one with the dangly chains. It’s not too flashy.”

“Heels or flats?”

“Is he tall?”

“Probably six feet tall.”

“Are you walking from the subway?”

“I’m taking a taxi.”

“Definitely heels,” she said. “But Emily—one more thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t let this guy hurt you. Okay?”

“I told you—”

“I know what you said, but I can tell you’re hot for him.”

“Even if I did decide to date him, I don’t think he’d hurt me. He’s older, more mature. I don’t think he’d be into playing games like that.”

“Sister, trust me. I know from experience older guys can play games right along with the rest of them. They have more years of practice at doing it.”

“What do you mean? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

Instantly she masked the emotion on her face. “Nope. I’m simply giving you some sisterly advice.”

“Okay, thanks for the help.” Emily smiled. “Love you, Sister.”

“You, too.”

Emily arrived ten minutes early to the Green Scene. She was surprised to find it looked much more like a club than a coffee bar. She found a small table on the far side and sat in a chair where she could watch the door. There was a jazz band setting up to play, so she tried not to sit too close to the stage. She wanted to be able to talk to Asher without yelling. She ordered a café mocha from the waitress, feeling relieved she’d be able to pay for her own drink as she planned. She drummed her fingers nervously on the table while she waited for Asher Denning to make his appearance.

“Hey, Emily. What are you doing here?” Emily looked up in surprise to see Grace standing beside her table, looking anxiously over her shoulder.

“Hi Grace. I, uhmm... What are you doing here?”

“Spencer told me you were having dinner with your mom and stepdad tonight. What happened? Why are you here?”

“Spencer? Uhmm... I had a change of plans. But don’t tell—”

“Hullo,