“That’s it!” she declared. “This app is making me crazy.” What was the use if she didn’t plan on checking any of the messages anyway?
Serenity snatched the phone, tapped in her passcode, then held the app down so she could open and then delete it. Pausing again, she was compelled to review the profiles one last time. After that, she’d be done with it. Just then a new message arrived in her inbox. It was from Chris Mullins. The subject simply said Hello. It was the first line that caught her attention, so she clicked on it to bring up the full message. This Chris didn’t call her baby, write a bad poem or offer up a lame pick-up line. His message was simple.
Hi. It seems that you really like music. Do you play any instruments? I play the sax.
Serenity’s thumb hovered over the reply icon for several moments. The debate in her mind was whether or not she should respond, or back out and hit Delete. The pressure was palpable. Why was she making this a big deal? Her reservations mounted. What if he was a stalker? He could be misrepresenting himself. Maybe he was crazy. Why was she even using online dating?
This guy looked decent enough. He was pretty handsome in the one and only picture he posted—and he was fully clothed. There were no pecs, six-packs or weird, phony-looking model poses. His profile was new, like hers—simple.
“I can’t,” Serenity said to herself, sighing, and dropped her hands.
She opened the bottom desk drawer, unzipped her purse and tossed the phone in. It would stay there for the remainder of her workday.
Chris, Ray and Kent navigated the congested streets of New York’s busy Times Square area with confidence in their stride. Tourists strolled aimlessly with their eyes toward the sky, while agitated natives wound through the maze of people speaking a tapestry of dialects. Chris caught snatches of the few languages he understood and wondered about the ones he couldn’t detect.
Broadway—the street—was a show unto itself. Entrance into the theaters wasn’t necessary for theatrics. There was enough of that with the costumed characters walking around and encouraging people to take pictures with them, then wanting money. The area was littered with painted naked women, superheroes, Statues of Liberty on stilts and metallic-toned cowboys who held their breath for dollars.
“Here we are.” Kent stopped walking, looked up at the large silver numbers on the building and shielded his eyes from the glaring sun.
The three headed through stately glass doors into a well-lit lobby of slate-colored granite, with a long security desk featuring a chrome logo of the media conglomerate’s name. A woman sat at the desk, her lips easing into a delightful grin when they approached. Eager to assist, she caught their attention before her coworker could turn around.
Chris stepped up first, gave his name and then the name of the person they were scheduled to meet. The woman asked for their identification and directed them to the elevator that would take them to where they needed to go. Inside the office, a petite young woman greeted them, leading them down a hall lined with large mounted posters of magazine covers. She guided them into a cozy room with soothing sage walls, gray couches and shabby-chic decor. Her gaze lingered on Chris as he moved through the door. After inviting them to get comfortable, she left.
“This is going to be great for business,” Ray mentioned, taking in the view overlooking Times Square from several stories up.
“For sure!” Kent agreed. “When will this issue come out, again?”
“May, around the same time as the gala.” Chris sat and brushed imaginary lint off his pant leg.
Had he been completely honest with his buddies, Chris would have told them how nervous he was. He was no stranger to attention, nor had he ever required it, but this entire experience humbled him tremendously, setting his ego into remission. It felt great to be recognized for work that he loved. He was still processing the fact that the three of them were about to be interviewed for a cover story of one of the country’s largest lifestyle magazines. Their feature story would tell the world about their business venture and their quick rise to popularity, giving them exponential exposure. Chris would also be featured in a separate article as one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, which would also tell of him being honored for his contribution and service as the cochair of the board for the Chandler Foundation alongside his mother. Each of his siblings took turns serving with Elle except Jade, his younger sister, who currently served as the foundation’s executive director.
Ray and Chris sat while Kent paced the small tranquil space. The nervous energy he exuded contrasted with the serenity the room offered. Chris laughed, realizing Kent shared the same mental space.
“You’re not nervous?” Chris directed his question to Ray.
Ray rubbed his palms against his legs. “Yeah, man. This is some major exposure. Brynn came by this morning before work. She kept fussing over what outfit she wanted me to wear. I told her the magazine was supplying our clothes for the shoot anyway. She still insisted that I show up looking as dapper as usual. Heh!” Ray confidently popped his collar. “I’ll try not to make you two look bad.”
“Ha!” Their combined laughter filled the small space.
Moments later, the editor entered the room. With hair the color of fire, her kinks evenly extended about six inches from her head. Smooth, almond-colored skin looked like butter. Her big smile was inviting.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Chandra, business editor. Welcome to Eclipse magazine. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” She firmly shook hands with each.
“A pleasure to meet you.” Ray nodded.
“Thank you for this opportunity.” Kent smiled. “Whoa!” he teased regarding her firm handshake. “You’ve got some arm there.”
“I think it’s safe to say the pleasure is ours.” Chris cupped Chandra’s soft hand between his. “And yes, thanks so much for this opportunity.”
Chandra’s neck shifted like a lever as she swallowed. She cleared her throat and smiled. Her smile held a hint of seduction and turned inviting. Chris could tell she thought he was flirting, but he wasn’t.
“You’re quite charming, Mr. Chandler.” Chandra’s head tilted slightly.
“Thank you.” Aware of his effect, he patted the back of her hand and let it go.
Chandra cleared her throat once again and tugged her knee-length dress down. “Our team is preparing for your shoot. We’ll get started in a moment. In the meantime, please let me know if you need anything. We have refreshments for you and a wonderful lunch coming later.”
“Now you’re talking.” Kent rubbed his hands together.
Chandra laughed, then stole a glance at Chris before promising to send in her assistant with a few bottles of water as she left.
“Seems like she’s sweet on you, Chris.” Ray chuckled and looked to Kent to cosign.
“Yeah, I’d say so. Maybe you won’t need that dating site after all.”
“Right! Very funny!” Chris dismissed Kent’s comment with a wave.
He hadn’t thought about his profile on the dating site since he asked that woman about her musical interests. Suddenly he was curious to see if she had responded but didn’t want to check it in front of his buddies. They were sure to joke about it.
Out of all the women whose profiles he had perused, there was something honest about the one belonging to the woman who spoke about having a passion for teaching music. The fact that he was attracted to her authenticity was ironic, since his profile consisted of a few lies—well, the last name and city he had listed were lies. But he did