The Lease Up

1. Flip You For It

VANESSA

Glancing at my watch for the third time since being seated in an intimate corner of the restaurant, I mentally curse my best friend, Jenny, who somehow roped me into this blind date.

Okay, fine, that's not entirely true. But in my defense, I was not thinking clearly and I'm certain she took advantage of that particular fact. Reeling from the excitement of sharing the news of my recent promotion, she pounced on my euphoric state, and sweet-talked me into meeting up with Jason's—her husband—cousin.

And he's late.

My idea of celebrating my new position this weekend involved opening a bottle of my favorite Rosé wine, after giving myself a pedicure and slipping my feet into my favorite fuzzy socks, watching mind-numbing trashy TV. But no, instead I'm sitting alone in a fancy restaurant, tugging on the hem of the leather wrapped skirt I bought on a whim, knowing full well I would never wear it. And yet, I am, in an attempt to let my hair down and live it up as Jenny urged while I was getting ready.

Ten minutes. He gets ten more minutes and then I'm calling it. I'll still have time to open a bottle of wine at home and catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor.

Scanning the room, I decide to kill time by fabricating stories about the strangers around me. People watching—I could do it for hours if it didn't make me look like a creeper, but I like to think I've mastered covertness after years of practice.

Let's see...Ah, yes, the classic scenario. Zeroing in on the young couple sitting across the room, they lean in toward each other. Their eye contact is intimate and unbreakable, they're in their own world, their own little love bubble.

Lover's reunited, after her controlling parents kept them apart and now they vow to never be away from one another.

To my surprise the guy stands and my mouth drops when he kneels down, extracting a small black velvet box from his breast pocket. The young woman's hands cover her mouth, but her surprised gasp still reaches me.

Bouncing in her seat, she shakes her head vigorously, with tears brimming she exclaims "Yes!" and her betrothed slips a ring over her finger. The light catches the gleam of the massive rock adorning her hand. A passionate kiss follows as they embrace and the ripples of applause erupt around them and I find myself joining in.

Well, that was better than the scenario I was conjuring. Observing the happy couple wistfully, I can't help but wonder if that will be my future someday. Not that I'm not content with my life, on the contrary. Things are good. Great, even.

My career has been my focus from the moment I was hired as a leasing agent straight out of high school and worked my way through college, earning a Bachelor's degree in business administration with a minor in real estate. And now I'm reaping the fruits of my labor with my recent advancement.

Workaholic. I've been described as such more than a couple of times in past relationships, the most recent being—holy crap, it's been two years since I've been with a man. Perhaps that will change tonight, if my date ever shows up; not that I would sleep with someone on the first date though. To each their own, but that's not my thing.

Calling over a waiter, I request a drink. Down to six minutes. My eyes survey the room again, including the patrons within it. My mind plays out the scenarios in rapid succession: spies meeting incognito, shopaholic intervention, secret lovers, girls night out, getting over a breakup, about to break up.

My eyes skim over a dark pair of eyes staring back at me.

Wait. Back up.

Assuming I'm mistaken, I glance away but can't resist looking again. A couple of men are on either side of the attractive man, but they're laughing at whatever their conversation entails, only he's not joining in.