Page 15 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #2)

Chapter Nine

E rica

“So where are you off to?” Suki asks me as I make my way down the street.

“I'm going on a date with this Scottish guy,” I say, stopping to observe my reflection in a store window.

I’m wearing a red dress with stockings and high heels. My long hair hangs down my back, and my makeup looks flawless—as it should. I spent two hours on it. I look good, but for some reason, I’m not excited.

“You meet men so easily,” Suki says, and I can tell there is a tinge of jealousy in her voice.

“Girl, I'm on like four different dating apps. That’s why.” I laugh. “If you spent more time swiping, you'd be going on as many dates as me. I mean, I’m not gonna lie—it’s not like I’ve hit it off with any of these guys yet.”

“True. But at least you’re getting dates.”

“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself. It only takes one.” I let out a deep sigh. “Anyway, I’m about to round the corner to the bar, so I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one.” I hang up the phone, slip it into my handbag, and walk into the bar.

I look around and am pleasantly surprised to see a tall, skinny guy standing just to the right of the entrance. He looks exactly like his photo and offers me a wide smile as I walk up to him.

“Hi, are you?—?”

“Hi, I'm John,” he says, holding his hand out. His voice is smooth, and his accent turns me on slightly.

“Hi, I'm Erica.”

“Nice to meet you, Erica. I’m glad we could meet up tonight.”

“Thanks for asking,” I said. “So, you’re from the UK?”

“I am. What gave it away?” he says, laughing slightly. He runs a hand through his hair. “I'm a graduate student at NYU. Originally from London, actually.”

“Oh, nice. I like London. I've been there a couple of times.”

“Nice, you’ll have to tell me where. But first, would you like a drink? My treat?”

“I would love a drink, thank you.”

“Of course. As long as you’re not asking for Dom Pérignon.”

“Oh, you mean we can't have Dom Pérignon?” I giggle.

“I’m afraid I’m on a graduate student budget, so I can’t quite swing that. But any glass of wine or a bottle of beer you want—well, as long as it’s not too expensive.” He chuckles. “I hope that’s okay.”

“No worries. Thank you for even offering to pay. Some guys don’t even do that.”

“I believe that if a man asks a woman out on a date—especially a first date—he should pay.”

“Oh my gosh. I feel the same way. I know some people think that’s old-fashioned, but I just feel like if a man’s interested in a woman, he would pay.”

“Well, I’m glad we both think alike. So, what would you like?”

“I’ll have a glass of… let’s see.” I look over the menu. “I normally get a nice glass of red, but I don’t want to get something too expensive. I’ll get an apple cider, please.”

“Okay,” he grins. “And I guess I’ll get a Guinness.”

“Hi,” he says to the bartender.

“What do you want?” the bartender asked, not nearly as friendly as John.

“My date here will have an apple cider, and I’d like a Guinness, please.”

“That it?”

“Yeah, for now.”

“Would you like to open a tab?”

“Sure.” John looks at me and beams. “If we want additional drinks, it’ll be easy to order.”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. I look him over. He isn’t my usual type—tall and skinny—but he has a really friendly face.

“So, how long have you been at NYU?” I asked.

“Six months. I love New York. Growing up in London, obviously I’m used to big cities, but there’s just something different about being here in America.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” I say, enjoying the conversation, but not really feeling a buzz.

“What?” He looks puzzled.

“I love how you Brits call it America, and we just call it the States.”

“Oh yeah, I guess that’s true. Would you like to sit?” He looks around. “Looks like there’s a two-top over there. We’ll have to sit on stools, or we can try to get a booth in the back.”

“Yeah, let’s get a booth if we can find one,” I smile.

He grabs the drinks, and we head toward the back.

“I like your dress. It’s stunning.”

“Thank you. And you look quite handsome yourself,” I say, which isn’t technically a lie. He is cute. Just not handsome like a movie star or a sports personality.

Don’t think about Tyler Kane.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. I was just… nothing.

“So, how has your dating life been going since you’ve been here?”

“Honestly, I’ve had a couple of first dates, a couple of second, and nothing much more than that. I’m studying something that’s quite unique, and it takes up a lot of time.”

“Oh? What are you studying?”

“Art history,” he says. “I know, I know. Don’t get too excited.”

“That sounds cool. I appreciate art for sure. I just don’t really know that much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I feel like people have heard of the famous painters—Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Monet, Manet, Picasso—but I’m really interested in people like Piero and—” He pauses. “Sorry, I’m not boring you, am I?”

“No, not at all. Do you have a favorite type of art?” I ask.

“Oh, definitely the Renaissance period. I think it’s because when I was growing up, I was really into history and, in particular, the Renaissance. So when I got into art, it just made sense to be interested in that era. In fact—there I go again.” He laughs. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you.”

“You’re not boring me at all. I think it’s really cool to meet a guy who’s interested in something other than sports or movies or Superman versus Batman.”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Marvel and DC. But ask me to go with you to a museum, and that’s when I’m in my element.”

“I guess that’s the thing about you Scottish men.”

“Oh, don’t get it twisted,” he says, laughing. “I know plenty of guys back home who’d rather just go to the pub and have a pint than go to a museum.”

“True. I guess it really just depends on who you are.”

“So instead of me boring you, please tell me more about yourself, Erica. We didn’t chat for long, and I don’t feel like I know you. You just graduated, right?”

“Yeah, I did. From Columbia.”

“You must have a lot of student debt, huh? I know the tuition there is quite high.”

“Actually, I don’t. I’m kind of lucky,” I smiled. “My parents paid.”

“Oh, you’re a trust fund kid.”

“I wouldn’t say trust fund kid,” I lie. “My parents were just financially able to pay.” I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry. I just don’t want you to think I’m some sort of snob or super privileged.”

As I say the words, I realize I’m not telling the truth, because the more I think about it, the more privileged I realize I am. I bite down on my lip.

“But life is life. So, have you made a lot of friends here?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.

“I have. In fact, for some reason, I’ve got mainly female friends. I guess the accent. And I’m a bit of a nerd.” He shrugs. “I generally like to hang out with women for the aforementioned reasons.”

“Oh, sure. That makes sense.”

“What about you? Do you have a lot of friends?”

“Yeah. My best friend, Sabrina, and I went to college together. She’s actually dating my older brother now. And then my good friend Suki’s still in town. I was speaking to her on the phone as I was coming here. And I have some other friends around.”

“Cool,” he says, leaning back. “I do have to tell you something, though.” He takes a long gulp of his Guinness.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Well, one of my friends, Louise… well, she’s just amazing.”

I try not to blink as I freeze. This is not where I expected the conversation to go. Why is he telling me that his friend is amazing?

“She’s got that pretty girl-next-door look,” he says, “and she’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I think she got straight A’s without ever having to study. She never wears makeup. She’s just great with animals and volunteers at an animal shelter. She goes to feed the homeless every week.”

“Wow, she sounds like a saint,” I say, trying not to sound jealous. I don’t really care that he is talking about this woman, but it feels a little odd that he is talking about her while on a date with me.

“Sorry, I talk about her far too much. I’ve been told that before,” he says, shaking his head. “You do not want to hear about my best friend while we’re getting to know each other.”

“No, I’m more than happy to hear about anyone you want to talk about. And she sounds great. Where is she right now?” I ask, because I don’t really know what else to say.

“She's at a restaurant, waitressing.” He makes a face. "She has a son, and the dad's not in their life, and she struggles to pay rent. It's hard out here, right?"

"Yeah, it's hard out here," I say, stumbling over my words because it hasn't been hard for me.

And the more I interact with other people, the more I realize how sheltered I've been and the more uncomfortable it makes me feel.

Sabrina, my best friend, never had the same amount of money as I did growing up, but it hasn't been something that I think about too much. But now that I’ve graduated and out of my bubble, I am starting to realize that the real world looks very different for people.

And if my greatest worry and concern is meeting the love of my life, am I a spoiled princess?

"Sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have kept going on about her. I just worry, you know?"

"It's okay." I'm not really sure what to say. "Is she your best friend, or do you have feelings for her?"

"Can I be 100 percent honest with you, Erica?"

I nod slowly. "Of course, please."

"You're stunning. Most probably one of the most beautiful women I've ever met.

But... oh, Louise." He sighs. "She just makes my heart.

.. She's an angel on earth, and I just feel really bad for her.

I want to be able to help her. I've even thought about dropping out of grad school to get a job, but I wouldn't be able to stay in the States because I'm on a student visa, and then that would defeat the purpose," he says.

"But I love her. I think she's the one for me, and I just don't know what to do about it or what to tell her. "