Finding Alana by Meg Farrell Read Free Book Online

“Okay.”
    Looking up into his eyes, I explain, “I have dinner with Kate tonight. Shouldn’t take too long. Dare I suggest we meet somewhere to talk after?”
    He smiles. “Sure. As long as it’s not the bar, I think I’m good with wherever.”
    “You know, I don’t usually take guys home from the bar, right?”
    He chuckles. “No, I didn’t know that. I hardly know you at all. It’s been what?” He checks his watch. “Thirty-six hours since you finally told me your name?” It’s a question and a statement.
    I purse my lips and attempt to pout, but that doesn’t last more than a split-second. “What if I told you I feel like I’ve known you for far longer than thirty-six hours? I can’t remember how or where we met, but there’s something there; right below the surface. Cheesy, huh?”
    His expression is of pure relief. “God! I’m so glad you said it first!”
    The corner of my mouth turns up in a smile. “Totally cheesy. My friend says it means we knew each other in another life. I don’t know if I believe in that kind of stuff, but it’s an interesting thought.”
    The smile on his face broadens. “I like that. Past lives, ooooooh . So, talking tonight after dinner?”
    “Yes. Absolutely. How do I get in touch with you?”
    He laughs and reminds me he has a cell phone. Pulling a cloth from his back pocket, he cleans his hands and then hands me his cell phone from his front pocket.
    I create a new contact with my information for him. When I hand the phone back, I look around us to see if we have audience. We don’t. I stand on tip-toes and plant a quick kiss on his delectable mouth. His smile as I walk away is all I need to get me through the rest of the day.
    
    Dinner with Kate is amazing. When I walked through the door this evening, she already had the tacos well in-hand. We haven’t had Taco Tuesday in a month or so, and the smell is mouth-watering.
    “We really need Taco Tuesday on a weekly basis. This is too good not to do it once a week,” I observe.
    “Agreed. Do you want a Corona?” Kate asks. She decided that Coronas were the only beer we should be drinking with the gloriousness that is Taco Tuesday.
    “Absolutely. Update me on the asshole at work.”
    “Well,” she drags the word out as she pops the caps off our beers and comes back to the table. “Today, I had a talk with HR about him. Son of a bitch laid his hands on me.”
    I nearly choke on my tortilla chip. “What? He had the balls to put his hands on you at work?”
    She nods. “Yeah. You know how we have that little room beside the cubes that has our copier and office supplies in it? Well, I went in there to make some copies. While the machine was running, I was digging through the small accessory supplies looking for tiny binder clips. I was leaning over the drawer, and I heard the door close. At first, I thought a draft or something that had pushed it closed. When I turned around, there he was. He is such a slime ball. He tries to come off all preppy, uber-professional, and ends up looking like an overpaid pimp.”
    I reach across the table to grab her hand.
    Kate takes a deep breath, and continues, “Anyway, I asked him if he needed anything. The look he gave me made all the hairs on my neck stand up. I started running through my mind what I would do if he touched me.”
    Tears fill her eyes, and she takes a moment to gather herself. “When he moved in closer, I froze. Shit, Alana, I just locked the fuck up! I had it in mind that I would use the three-hole punch on the shelf to knock him out or something. When the time to act was upon me, I fucking froze.”
    When she finishes, she tanks half her beer in one swallow.
     
    “Hey, it’s okay. None of us knows how we’ll react in that situation. It’s not supposed to happen.” I try to sound reassuring.
     
    “Yeah. I know,” she wipes a tear from her cheek, takes a breath, and finishes the story. “So anyway, he leaned