Riley Fox was late.
She despised tardiness.
Trying not to freak out and get all OCD before she went on her first official matchmaking date, she dragged in a breath for calm, and methodically clicked down her list of items to take. Purse. iPhone. Charger. Water. Check, check, check, check.
The snow was steadily falling so she tugged on her leather gloves, buttoned her coat to the neck, and locked the door. Her sleek silver Infiniti was already warmed, and she sighed when her rear slid into the heated seat. Hmm, she knew the general direction, but never made the trek up the mountain. Better get Google Maps ready. The GPS in the car sucked and usually gave her the wrong directions. She clicked on the app, tapped in the address, and buckled her seat belt. Easing the car onto the snow-covered road, Riley headed for her ice-skating date.
Deciding to forgo music for her thoughts, she ignored the slight twinge of nerves in her stomach and wondered if she’d been crazy to agree to this. Riley expected photos, full name, date of birth, social security number, and a checklist of traits her date copped to. Instead, Kate informed her it was a total blind encounter. Meaning she knew his first name was Ryan, he would meet her at exactly 7 p.m. by the gate of Rinker’s Park, and he was safe, sane, and cute.
Kate refused to give her anything else.
Normally, that would challenge Riley’s competitive instincts to shine and compel Kate to give her more information, but Arilyn backed Kate up by gently reminding her of her inability to take risks in her love life, and how going in without any prior information would open her mind.
Finally, she agreed. But if the man exhibited any violations of her rules she was outta there.
Riley drove through Verily, relaxing slightly as the cheerful lights and festive atmosphere on a cold December night made her feel alive. She’d fallen in love with the upstate river town’s artsy appeal and quiet demeanor. Working in Manhattan was amazing—there wasn’t a city in the world as vibrant and fast paced, and she thrived on a career level. But personally, she gravitated toward a quirky, calmer type of atmosphere, where she could sip a coffee, window-shop, talk to her neighbors, and pretend she wasn’t living for sales reports, auctions, and networking.
Pathetic.
Normally, she wouldn’t have cared. Her drive for achievement was something she now lived with and never questioned. Valedictorian in college, a coveted internship in Manhattan at graduation, and years of learning from the best in the business. Finally, she’d been ready to take the leap to create her own publishing business focused on women.
Everyone called her crazy. Laughed. Refused to take her seriously.
Now that same line of rotten men lined up to kiss her ass.
Score.
Riley held back a giggle and took the next turn slow. Her rear wheels slid, adjusted, and pushed on. Damn, this was gonna be a bitch of a snowstorm. The initial reports had called for a dusting, but already huge flakes hit her windshield in kamikaze form, and the faint sound of tinkling ice warned her of the road conditions.
Crap. She was still fifteen minutes late.
Knowing her car could handle it, she calmly pressed the accelerator to make up for some time, keeping her senses sharp to the surroundings around her. She was an excellent driver and had never gotten into an accident. She drove like she did everything else in her life: with a firm capability and a goal toward one thing.
Success.
Men said she had issues. Who didn’t? She’d plunged ahead, and except for the occasional sexual affair she carefully plotted out to meet her bodily needs, she never felt lonely. Until recently. Stupid female clock screwed everything up. She was going along quite happily when she’d caught sight of a pregnant woman stroking her belly.
She’d stopped in the middle of a crowded street. The hit of emotion drained her breath and an ache in her heart made her want to wail like a toddler. From that moment, everything changed. Riley looked at couples around her, baby strollers, flashing diamond rings, and she wanted. Wanted with her heart, soul, and gut, like she’d never wanted anything before.
She’d called Kate and decided to do something about it.
Work had been the element to drive her forward, but now she was ready to attack her personal life. Finally at the stage she always dreamed to be in her career, she realized lately she was lonely. An empty ache pulsed in her gut. She craved cooking in her gourmet kitchen for someone other than herself. Her three-hundred-count Egyptian cotton sheets were cold with no one to snuggle with. Wasn’t it time she finally focused on finding love? Wasn’t it finally her turn?