Page 5 of Her Inconvenient Wedding Date (Unexpected Dates #2)

Lily

“A blind date: An exercise in trust or an unexpected comedy special." ~Unknown

I’m pretty sure Hunter spied on me and Simon tonight.

First of all, he just called him Mr. PowerPoint, which meant he saw the twenty-slide presentation that my date had painstakingly put together.

I’m grateful he witnessed it because I don’t think anyone would believe me if I told them Bill Gates played a part in my love life.

Or my soon-to-be nonexistent love life, to be more exact.

If the dating world is anything like what I just experienced, I’m ready to book a tour at the closest convent.

“Well, long story short, Simon proposed, and I turned him down.” I shake my head as the absurdity of my own words hits me. “What guy proposes on the first date?”

“That’s exactly what I thought! I’m glad you set him straight,” Hunter replies as he offers me some fried rice. “I bet you’re starving. You didn’t even get to take two bites before he broke out the slideshow. Here, eat. ”

“That is not an exaggeration. I lost my appetite as soon as I saw his pie charts. It should be illegal to name something that dull after a type of dessert.” I pick up my chopsticks and wait with anticipation as he piles more food onto my plate.

My stomach gurgles happily as I inhale the savory scents of soy sauce, garlic, and sesame oil.

Now this is the kind of experience I was hoping for when I showed up here.

A night out with a man who’d enjoy sharing a meal and some good conversation.

That’s all I need—some nourishment for my stomach and soul.

I say a prayer of thanks to God for bringing Hunter here. “Thank you for this.”

“The food? I wish I could take credit for it. I can do a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them.”

“Not the food, the company. It’s nice to have a normal conversation where I’m not being grilled about my 401K or cholesterol level.”

His jaw drops. “Simon asked you about those things?”

“That was during the fourth and fifth slides when he was telling me about his numbers,” I reply with a wry smile before I dig into the fried rice.

I’m two bites in when my taste buds start cheering.

“This is so good. At least he picked a nice restaurant. Everything else about this date, though, was a total bust. I felt like he was only interested in getting to know my credentials. I might as well have been interviewing for a job.”

“You were, for the role of Mrs. PowerPoint.”

“Mrs. PowerPoint—right.” I roll my eyes.

“Wait, does Simon proposing mean I passed the interview? That doesn’t make sense.

He didn’t like any of the answers I gave.

I could tell because his right eyebrow kept twitching whenever I opened my mouth.

But he did mutter something about how he needed to find a wife to get an inheritance and how he was running out of time and couldn’t be choosy.

” I cringe as my self-esteem drops a few notches.

Yes, I know Psalm 139 says I’m fearfully and wonderfully made, but I can’t help wondering if I would be even more so if I were four inches shorter and more reserved.

“There was something about me that he didn’t like, but he was willing to settle. ”

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That he and I aren’t meant to be?”

Hunter nods. “That, and he also needs better glasses if he can’t see well enough to appreciate perfection when it’s right in front of him.”

An odd, tingling warmth fills my chest. That’s the sweetest compliment I’ve ever received, even if it’s completely false.

I study him for a moment, wondering if I’ve gotten him wrong all this time.

Maybe what I’ve been mistaking as a competitive spirit is Hunter trying to be friendly?

He really is easy to talk to when given the chance.

“That’s so gracious of you to say. But I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.

If I were, I wouldn’t be in this pickle.

I’d be married already instead of going on blind dates and being questioned about how I squeeze a tube of toothpaste and hang a toilet paper roll. ”

“He didn’t…”

“Oh, yes, he did. Slide number six was about bathroom etiquette. Apparently, the proper and only way to hang TP is under.”

He balks. “Under?!”

“Right? That was my reaction, too.”

“That’s worse than putting pineapple on pizza, which could be acceptable under the right circumstances,” he adds with a sheepish grin when he sees my raised brow. “But everyone knows that TP is supposed to hang over.”

“Not, according to Simon. If you have cats, then hanging TP under is the best way because it makes it harder for cats to unroll.”

One of Hunter’s bushy brows arches. “Wow, he must love his cats. How many does he have?”

I shake my head. “None. He’s allergic to cats.”

“But he still hangs his TP under? What in the world for?”

I throw my hands up. “I. Have. No. Idea.”

Hunter bursts out with a hearty chuckle that causes the laugh lines around his eyes to deepen. “I can see why you turned down his proposal.”

“I may be desperate, but I still have some sense left. I think.” I set my chopsticks down with a loud sigh.

“You know what would solve this problem? If I could just rent a man. Maybe order one online who meets my parents’ requirements and have him show up for some dinners to convince my family that we’re engaged.

Or better yet, that we’re married. Then after Jasmine and Bruce have their wedding, we can go our separate ways. ”

Hunter also stops eating. He turns to me with wide eyes and asks, “Are you talking about getting yourself a fake husband?”

“Why? Do you know where I can find one?”

“You’re serious?”

“Am I ever?—”

“Not serious, I know,” he finishes for me with an amused smile.

“Isn’t what you’re talking about like that story where the CEO asked his assistant to pretend to be his fiancée to make his grandfather happy?

The one where he gets loopy after a dentist appointment and does a Kermit the Frog impression. ”

I do a double take. How is it that I’ve known Hunter for a year, but I feel like I’m meeting him for the first time today? “When did you start reading rom-com?”

“I don’t. I saw the book on your desk one day and thought the cover looked interesting, so I flipped through it. Isn’t there a name for that kind of marriage? Something inconvenient?”

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s a marriage of convenience. Although inconvenient would be a better description. There’s nothing convenient about being in a contractual relationship.”

“Why do you say that? If both sides are in agreement and they both stand to gain something from it, wouldn’t that be a win-win?”

“Not if one person develops feelings for the other person and then the contract ends. That would be greatly inconvenient.”

“Why wouldn’t they just stay married?”

“Because the person who catches feelings doesn’t know for sure how the other person feels, so they never speak up about it.

At least that’s how I imagine it working out in real life.

Reality doesn’t always end with a happy ever after.

Anyhow, this is all speculation. It’s not like I’m going to find a man who’ll want to marry me temporarily. I can’t even find one to date!”

I start picking at the food on my plate again. Even my favorite dish, beef chow fun, doesn’t taste so good. How can I enjoy anything, knowing that I’ve made zero progress on my goal of finding myself a husband? So much for my grand plan of not failing my sister.

“There’s only one thing left to do,” I announce to Hunter. “Something my mother suggested that I said I’d never do, but apparently never is now.”

He eyes me cautiously. “What’s that?”

“An arranged marriage.”

He shoots me an incredulous look. “Uh, Lil, with all due respect, if you didn’t want to accept a proposal from Mr. PowerPoint, what makes you think you’d be okay marrying a guy who doesn’t even have a chance to give you a presentation?”

I let loose a groan from the depths of my despairing heart.

It’s so loud, one of the servers comes running across the restaurant to see what’s wrong.

She asks in Mandarin if we need more tea or the bill.

I can tell from the older woman’s worried expression that she’s hoping I say the latter, so I don’t scare any customers away with my mini meltdown.

I reassure her that I’m fine, the food is fine, and everything is fine.

She doesn’t seem convinced, but she does leave us alone after offering Hunter a sympathetic smile.

I feel bad for him, too. Of all the other things he could be doing after a long day of work, I’m sure consoling me was not on his list. I turn to him with a remorseful frown.

“I’m going to go. You deserve to eat your dinner in peace.

Thanks for listening and trying to help.

I’ll get the check; it’s the least I can do,” I offer as I gather up my purse and jacket.

Before I can stand, Hunter places his hand on my arm. “Please stay, I enjoy your company. And the bill’s been paid for, including the one for you and Simon, so don’t worry about it.”

“When did you—” I stare at him in disbelief. “Why would you pay for our bill? That wasn’t your mess to clean up.”

He shrugs like it was no big deal. “Haven’t you heard of the multiple table discount at Chinese restaurants? I wanted to get my money’s worth.”

Hunter’s joking tone has me smiling despite my sour mood.

I wish I could take back all the petty things I’ve ever thought about him.

He’s so good-natured, much more than I am, especially when my kindness half the time is about being ke qi .

That’s the Chinese art of being nice—extreme politeness for the sake of saving face.

Hunter, on the other hand, genuinely cares about people.

And for some reason, he’s decided to grace me with his kindness.

“Thanks, Hunter. You’re a really good coworker—and friend,” I add, deciding to move our relationship to the next level. “Next time, it’s my treat.”

“I’d like that.”

We sit in amiable silence for a few minutes as we enjoy more of the delicious food.

In between bites, I find myself sneaking peeks at Hunter out of the corner of my eye.

He looks more dressed up than usual with a black leather jacket over a button-down shirt.

The outfit is trendier than office attire, especially with his hair combed back.

His baby blues are on full display, making my inner teen squeal with delight.

Hunter’s the kind of guy I would have asked out back in high school when I was going through what my parents called my “rebellious phase.” The only difference is that he’s not the bad boy type that I secretly liked.

He actually has a heart of gold that makes his outward appearance even more attractive.

If Hunter Payne was Chinese, he’d be the first man I’d consider having a marriage of convenience with.

Whoa. I shiver inadvertently as the thought bounces around in my mind.

How did I go in a single day from being annoyed with my coworker to thinking about marrying him?

! I’m pretty sure my last ounce of sense has just done an Elvis and left the building.

But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that he’s my best choice.

He has the Cs that I’d want in a husband—Christian, caring, and compassionate.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s cute, too. And he has the things that are important to my parents, like a career, condo, and cash.

The only thing missing is him being Chinese, which is the least of my worries.

Honestly, Hunter is the whole package and maybe the solution to my dilemma.

The question now is how do I bring up this idea without getting Hunter all shook up or leaving me in the heartbreak hotel?

I swallow hard, then square my shoulders. With a hopeful smile, I present my proposal to him. “Is there a chance you enjoy my company so much, you wouldn’t mind getting married?”

His ears turn bright red, leaving me wondering if I just made the worst decision of my life.