To See You by Rachel Blaufeld Read Free Book Online Page B

ogling before, all fit and tan with a man bun and a beard.
    Thankful for the distraction, I quickly made my way past the paps and into the theater. A woman in a long black evening gown asked for my name.
    “Charli Richards.”
    She ran a finger down the list on her sparkly clipboard, and when she scrunched her face, I added, “From BubblePOP .”
    “Charleston?”
    “Yes, that’s me.”
    “Welcome to Seven Sins of Serial Dating . Both lounges are open inside, and you may bring your drinks into the theater.”
    “Thank you.”
    As I took a moment to take in my surroundings, I decided a glass of wine was in order. I politely pushed my way close to the bar and waited for a server.
    “Can I help you?”
    “White wine spritzer, please.”
    The bartender turned around and grabbed a bottle of white wine and a chilled glass. When he turned back around with my drink, a hand came out of nowhere and took the glass from him.
    “Hey there, gorgeous girl.” Layton handed me my beverage, massaging my body with his voice. He shoved a five-dollar bill into a glass for tips and turned back to me. “You made it.”
    His eyes seared through me, as warm and genuine as they had been on the plane. I took a sip of my drink and swallowed any weird thoughts I’d been having.
    “Here I am. God, this is something. Makes covering the New York Half Marathon feel like nothing.”
    “Welcome to the land of make-believe.”
    “So, were you waiting for me?” I took a look around; he seemed to come out of nowhere.
    Double crap, why did I have to go and get bitchy again?
    “I guess,” he said. “I asked for them to give me a buzz when you arrived. Hope that’s okay?”
    I nodded and smiled for fear that the words a bit stalkerish, but I like it , or even worse, I’m so glad you did , would come out of my mouth.
    “Uh-oh.” He stuck his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a rosebud, tight and not quite ready to bloom. “For you.” His long fingers extended the deep purple flower toward me. “Want to hold it? Or you can pin it? They gave me a pin . . .”
    “It’s beautiful,” I said, twisting it in my manicured fingers. I popped it into the snap on my clutch. “I think it looks stunning here. Does that work?”
    “If it’s good for you, it’s good for me.” He winked and I took notice of his hair, styled and handsome in a way only a few men could pull off.
    “You look great,” he added. “Definitely, the most gorgeous woman here.” His eyes ran the length of my red dress, not stopping when it ended above my knees.
    “Thanks. You clean up well yourself.” Taking in his tux and Italian loafers, I decided he didn’t look half-bad. The penguin suit was way better than the Beastie Boys tee . . . or maybe not?
    What is it about this guy? On paper, he’s one hundred percent wrong for me. His e-mails are equal parts annoying and funny.
    Okay, more funny than annoying. More like refreshing. Different. Exciting.
    But as I stand next to him now, he’s giving me head-to-toe tingles, and I find myself dwelling on his e-mails.
    “Thanks. To answer your question, I asked them to grab me when you got here because I was afraid we wouldn’t connect. I have to go backstage, but do you want to grab something to eat after this? I mean, you flew all the way here, and I thought I could show you around.”
    He was obviously rambling, and ran a now visibly shaky hand through his styled hair before smoothing it back into place. To me, he looked better with it mussed.
    I commanded my eyes to move from his hair and meet his gaze, and then almost wished I hadn’t. There was something about his eyes. They were compelling. Alluring.
    “Sounds good,” I said, flattered he gave them my name and nervous about him asking me to dinner.
    “Let’s meet here when it’s over? This way you don’t have to hold a seat for me during the movie and you can actually enjoy the film, and I’m not interrupting with all my fun facts, if that’s cool