Blind Date with a Billionaire Professor (Blind Date Disasters) Page 3

  “Good day, Dr. Mitchell. I hear you wanted to speak with me.” I set his meal on the table and pulled up a chair next to his bed.

  He clicked on a remote that lifted the top of his bed so he could sit up. “You came. I’m so glad.” His voice was raspy and weak, but he had a smile on his face.

  “Of course, I came. It’s been a while since we last spoke, and I miss our conversations.”

  “Me too.” He cleared his throat. “How’s research at that university of yours?”

  “It’s going well. Nothing new there—just solid work Monday through Friday.”

  He nodded. “And on the weekends…what do you do on the weekends these days?”

  I frowned, pulling on my thick beard. “Sometimes I take my students on hikes. Other times, I relax at home, and there’s church on Sunday.”

  “I see, I see.” He nodded. “And have you found a girlfriend yet?” There was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

  “No, not yet.” This was the last thing I wanted to talk about, but I would humor him for a while. He was harmless—there was no need to worry that he’d try to set me up on a blind date like Wilhelmina had tried to do earlier.

  “What’s wrong? Can’t get a woman to go out with you?” He chuckled, clearly wanting to banter about this.

  “Haven’t asked anyone lately.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “Why not?”

  I leaned back in the chair and shrugged. “No time, I guess. I’m always busy.”

  “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to take offense.”

  “Okay, let’s hear it.” There wasn’t much he could say that I hadn’t already heard before.

  “Sure you can handle it?” He smiled and put up his fists like he wanted to box. “If I were a youngster, I’d duke it out with you.”

  I stifled a laugh and shifted on my chair. “I didn’t know you had a problem with me.”

  “Oh, I have a problem with you all right. You didn’t heed the advice I gave the last time you were here.”

  “Advice? Don’t remember any advice.” I smiled, remembering exactly what he’d said the last time I’d come to his home. He’d wanted me to take a beautiful woman out to dinner and report back to him how it had gone.

  “Don’t play dumb. You remember. I can see it in your expression.” He pointed a bony finger at my face.

  “I think you need to get your glasses checked out.”

  He snickered. “You’re probably right about that. Can’t see worth beans these days.” His smile faded, and he coughed into his fist. It was loud and had a guttural sound to it.

  “You okay?”

  Annie brought over a glass of water, and he took a few sips. “Thank you.”

  “You must be hungry,” I said. “Why don’t you let Annie and me help you up so you can sit at the table and eat.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject.” He glared at me as if I were an incorrigible child.

  I put my hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  “That’s right. I’m old and I’m sick, so you have to listen to me.”

  “I am listening. Haven’t gone anywhere.”

  His light blue eyes pierced into mine. “Don’t be alone like me.” He didn’t look away or break eye contact.

  “Okay.”

  “No, you’re just agreeing with me so I’ll stop talking and move on to something else.”

  He had me there. That was exactly what I was doing, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Instead, I shrugged and gave him a tight smile.

  “Don’t be alone,” he said again as if I didn’t hear him the first time.

  “No one wants to be alone. I can assure you of that.”

  “That might not be what you want, but you haven’t chosen the path that leads away from loneliness.” Again, his piercing blue eyes bored into me, daring me to contradict him.

  I was starting to feel uncomfortable now, and I’d humored him long enough. “Dr. Mitchell, thank you for your concern, but I’m happy with my life as it is.”

  “No, you’re not.” The words spewed out of his mouth, forceful and hard. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I…” Clearing my throat, I stood and glanced at Annie. “I think I’d better go and let him eat. He’s feisty today, isn’t he?”

  She chuckled. “Always.”

  Just I was about to leave, he grabbed my forearm. “Wait. Please. Will you put up with an old man for five more minutes?” There was a hollowness to his eyes, a sadness that filled the surrounding space.

  I hesitated. “Yes, of course. I can stay a few more minutes.”

  He relaxed, breathing out. “Thank you. I’m not trying to be rude or unkind. As you grow older, it becomes necessary to cut the fluff out of the conversation and get straight to the point.”

  “I understand.”

  “Listen.” He leaned forward a little, hands resting on either side of his legs. “I just don’t want you to end up like me. I was a workaholic. My life revolved around my patients and the hospital. Didn’t have time for socializing much…rarely looked at a woman twice.” He smiled. “Well, there was this one woman I wanted to take to dinner, but she had eyes for someone else.”

  I sat down quietly, not wanting to interrupt his speech. It seemed as if he needed to unload some of his burden—thoughts he’d dwelt on for some time, maybe.

  “Anyway.” He looked at me as though he’d almost forgotten I was there. “You’re getting up there in age, but it’s never too late to find yourself a wife and have a family. Maybe you prefer your solitude. Maybe you think that’s the last thing you need right now. But I’m here to tell you, marriage isn’t something you should put off anymore. You may intend to deal with it next week, but next week never comes, and then you’re ninety-one years old, alone, with no family to speak of.”

  The words felt heavy-handed to me, but I understood he was feeling sad about some of his life choices, and it didn’t have anything to do with me. I personally didn’t mind being alone. I really didn’t.

  For the most part.

  Well, I didn’t mind it sometimes.

  “I hear you, Dr. Mitchell, and I promise I will consider everything you’ve said.”

  “Good.” He breathed out, his breath sounding weak and chalky.

  I took his hand and squeezed it. “Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? Name it. Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”

  He smiled. “Will you come back to visit me tomorrow?”

  I didn’t want to hear the same speech again, but I sensed he needed company. “Sure. I’ll bring your meal.”

  “Thank you.”

  I texted Janie that I would be the one to deliver Dr. Mitchell’s meal the following day, and then I headed home, thinking about our conversation the entire way. A sad emptiness floated through me like a looming specter. From our earlier discussions, I knew Dr. Mitchell had lived a full life, and it hadn’t been all bad. He’d mentioned many happy memories and times of achievement. Sometimes people grew sentimental as they reflected on the past. Perhaps that was all it was.

  When my car pulled into my driveway, I was thankful to be home. My house was on a mountaintop, overlooking the Northern California pine trees on the right, and the ocean on the left. There was a porch with a swing in my backyard, and I often sat outside and stared at the view, watching the rhythmic waves of the ocean tug in and out. It had always been comforting, but today…today felt different. My house had an emptiness to it that seemed almost…too silent. Even the breeze on my face as I sat out back seemed to whisper…all alone…all alone.

  This feeling—it would pass. It always did. I just had to hold on to what I knew was best. I didn’t date for a reason—a reason that was valid—and I needed to remember that.

  Something felt off, so I went inside and changed into more comfortable clothing, determining to put all negative thoughts aside. My eyes grazed my Bible sitting on the desk in the corner of the room. There was a Bible study
I was supposed to be doing—wanted to do, actually, but I hadn’t made the time. Later. I would do it later.

  I settled into a lounge chair and watched television for a few hours, still feeling unsettled but not sure why the conversation with Dr. Mitchell had affected me so much. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t heard it many times before from different people over the years. My phone rang, and the caller I.D. showed it was Janie.

  “Janie, is everything okay? You’ve never called me this late before.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Colin. I almost waited until tomorrow, but I thought you’d want to know.” She paused. “Annie just phoned and informed me that Dr. Mitchell passed away about twenty minutes ago.”

  “What?” I stood, feeling agitated as my heart rate increased. “That can’t be. I was at his house earlier. He seemed fine.”

  “Annie said he ate dinner and then told her he was tired. He got in bed and fell asleep. She checked on him later and realized he wasn’t breathing. I’m so sorry. You were fond of him. We both were.”

  I drew in a ragged breath, my knees feeling weak. “Thank you for informing me. He lived a long life, but it’s still sad. I wish that… Guess I just wish I’d known him sooner.”

  “You did what you could for him.”

  “I should have done more.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. You did a lot for that man. I’m sure he was very grateful.”

  After she hung up, I moved outdoors, needing the fresh air. I stood on my back porch and leaned against the railing, feeling the wind whip through me in a comforting way, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache that settled in my chest. Something Dr. Mitchell had said earlier was bothering me. Next week never comes, and then you’re ninety-one years old, alone, with no family to speak of.

  I was thirty-eight years old with no family to speak of. That wasn’t the part that bothered me. It was the part about next week never coming that was getting to me right now. How many times had I made a New Year’s resolution to improve my social skills and then never dealt with it? How many times had I said I would try to get out more?

  Too many to count.

  Dr. Mitchell was right. I was choosing a path of loneliness because I felt shy and awkward most days. If I didn’t at least try to overcome my flaws, I’d end up with regrets, and I didn’t want that.

  I thought about Wilhelmina’s offer to arrange a blind date. Nothing would come of it. I was sure about that. Even if I found a woman I enjoyed being with, I would never say I love you again. I’d learned my lesson after the last time. Still, agreeing to that date would be a step in the right direction towards growing socially. No one was forcing me to be in a relationship, but going to dinner with a friend was more than I was doing now. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent Wilhelmina a text. Go ahead and set up the blind date. I’ll give it a try, but I can’t promise it will lead to anything.

  Her response came a few seconds later, and it was only one word. Finally.

  Chapter 3

  Colin

  My breath felt entirely too shallow as I took quick steps toward the small café for my blind date with Abby. Dread pooled in my stomach, and my heart pounded against my ribs in a way that made me want to turn back. What had I done? Why had I agreed to this?

  There was no fooling myself. In a moment of weakness, I’d allowed emotion over Dr. Mitchell’s passing to sway me into agreeing to this ridiculous set-up. Now, I regretted that decision because no matter how many times I envisioned this thing, everything I did ended in disaster…every single time I thought about it. I was not cut out for this, and I never would be.

  Yes, I had assets—I was well aware of that. To my knowledge, I was reasonably attractive, had a brain, and I was wealthy, all things that would entice a woman to give me a chance. Those attributes looked good on paper, but there was just one problem: I couldn’t carry on a conversation with a beautiful woman to save my life.

  I didn’t have charm or charisma.

  No one had ever said I was humorous.

  And worst of all, I’d been told more than once that I was just plain boring.

  I stopped at a window outside the café and peered in. The room was mostly deserted except for a woman sitting at a small table directly across from the window near the other wall. She had a faraway look on her face—one I would almost call sad, but I didn’t know her well enough to jump to that conclusion. She had brown hair that fell past her shoulders, and when she reached up to tuck a lock behind her ear, she did it in a graceful manner that made her appear elegant and feminine.

  It was Abby. I recognized her from the picture Wilhelmina texted me a few days ago. She must have sensed someone looking at her because she turned toward the window in a quick jerky motion, and in the process, knocked over a glass of water on the table. She picked it up in a hurry and jumped to her feet, doing a little dance as she tried not to get wet. Instead of appearing frazzled, she threw her head back and laughed, holding a hand over her heart. I found myself grinning with her, taken in by the huge smile lighting her face like the sun peeking through dense clouds. She motioned to a waiter for help, her features animated. He brought napkins and wiped up the spill with a cloth, lingering after he finished his task. They chatted for a few minutes, laughing and talking as if they already knew each other. For one tiny second, I felt jealous of this man. Jealous that he was able to speak so freely and with an easy manner.

  I thought about canceling on her—it would only take one text. I checked my watch and placed a hand on my forehead, debating. It was as if I’d been in a fog ever since Dr. Mitchell passed away, and that fog was now clearing, leaving me with the realization that I did not want to do this. Lord, I want to get out of here and forget about the entire thing.

  Yes, that was what I would do—put an end to this charade before I embarrassed myself. I pulled out my phone and typed out a quick text. Dear Abby, it appears I’m indisposed and won’t be able to make our date. It wasn’t a lie. I felt sick to my stomach and knew the moment I headed home I would feel better.

  Please accept my apology for standing you up. You seem like a lovely woman, and I’m sure you’ll find someone else to take my place in no time. My thumb lingered over the send button.

  I couldn’t do it, and I wasn’t sure why. Glancing through the window again, I saw her sitting alone, sipping a new glass of water, the waiter nowhere in sight. She looked sad again as she picked up her phone and lazily typed something. She was probably wondering where I was since it was already ten minutes past the time we agreed to meet. I’d been standing here, trying to muster up the courage to go inside.

  Leaving would be wrong—ungentlemanly. I shouldn’t do it. I wanted to…but that was beside the point. Pull it together Fitzgerald. Just get this over with. I put my phone in my pocket and squared my shoulders, striding towards the door before I changed my mind.

  Pushing the double doors open, I stepped inside. “I’m meeting a friend,” I told the hostess, “and she’s already here.”

  She nodded. “Do you need help finding her?”

  “No, I know where she’s sitting.”

  I put one foot in front of the other and headed her way. Everything would be fine. It would be okay. Telling myself that worked because I felt the tightness in my back easing up.

  And now I was standing next to her table, and she was looking up at me with a slight smile on her face.

  She jumped up eagerly like she was an energetic teenager, holding her hand out. “You must be Colin. I’m Abby. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  Finally? I ignored that and took her hand in mine. It was incredibly soft but a bit cold. Before I realized what I was doing, I encased her hand in between both of mine, warming it. “Your hand feels like ice.”

  Pink spread across her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with humor. “I’m a little nervous. Thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

  Her eyes were so blue I had to catch my breath. Wilhelmina’s comment about blue hydrangeas came to mind, a
nd even though I couldn’t picture hydrangeas at the moment, I knew in an instant the comparison wasn’t worthy of her. I’d never seen eyes this beautiful before.

  Her brown hair had strands of color framing her face: two different shades of purple. Now that she was standing in front of me, I had a chance to take in her full appearance. She had on bright pink leggings that were practically florescent underneath a gray, ruffled skirt that fell a few inches above her knees. She had on a black turtleneck sweater and a light blue scarf around her neck. My eyes widened a little at her choice of colors. One could often figure out someone’s personality just by the clothes they wore, and Abby’s clothes said: lively, spirited, artistic.

  The opposite of me in every way.

  She looked like the actress, Alexandra Daddario, and I had to wonder why she’d resorted to a blind date. She didn’t need help. At all. I was staring, and it probably made her uncomfortable, so I released her hand and cleared my throat. “Shall we sit?”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea.” She giggled, and I took that as a good sign.

  My brown pants brushed against the table as I sat down, and a sound, some kind of tone or a beep came from inside my pocket. It was a tone I recognized—the sound my phone made after I sent a text. My eyes bulged with understanding. NO.

  Abby’s phone was still sitting on the table, and it lit up after another second passed. There was a ding, and she picked up the cell to see who it was from. She smiled. “How funny. It’s from you. You must have told me you were running late. Sometimes texts are delayed.”

  “Don’t read it.” My tone was emphatic. Demanding.

  “What?” Her eyes widened, and she gave me a look like she thought I was strange for saying that, but my words didn’t stop her because she opened the text anyway. She scanned it quickly and then looked at me with a confused expression. To my horror, she glanced back at her phone and this time read it out loud. “Dear Abby, it appears I’m indisposed and won’t be able to make our date. Please accept my apology for standing you up. You seem like a lovely woman, and I’m sure you’ll find someone else to take my place in no time.”