Blind Date with a Billionaire Professor (Blind Date Disasters) Read online

  “So, first things first,” she said. “Always be on time to a date. It’s better to be early than late. When a guy is late, it makes the woman feel like she’s not important enough for him to make the effort.”

  I stiffened. “I’m sorry about that, and for the record, it’s not true.”

  She frowned and leaned back in her chair. “It is true. Women don’t like men who are chronically late.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” Pressing my fingertips to my temples, I closed my eyes for a second. I’d barely been here a minute, and I was already having problems communicating. “I meant it wasn’t true that I saw you as unimportant.” Swallowing, I rested my elbows flat on the table. “I arrived on time, but I lingered in the car because I was nervous.”

  Her expression softened, and she put one of her hands on top of mine. “I didn’t realize you were that anxious.” She pulled her hand back, and I instantly missed the contact.

  “Like I said. It’s been a while since I dated.” I cleared my throat and looked away, not meeting her gaze. This situation was so uncomfortable. Blowing out a breath, I stared at my notepad. “Go ahead. Tell me everything I did wrong and what I need to do to fix it.” I picked up the pen, ready to write something down, but she was quiet for too long. After a few more moments passed and she still hadn’t said anything, I raised my head and found her watching me with a slight smile on her face.

  “There you go. I was waiting for eye contact. That’s number one. When you talk with a woman, you’ve got to look her in the eye sometimes. She needs to know you’re with her and not lost in your own thoughts.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to do that.” I quickly wrote on my notepad: Eye contact, very important. I underlined it three times.

  She giggled. “It’s one thing to write it down, but it’s another to do it.” Leaning forward, she bit down on her bottom lip. “Let’s do an exercise. I want you to stare into my eyes for three whole minutes without looking away.”

  “Wait, what?” I glanced around the room as a couple of teenagers sat down nearby, but they weren’t paying attention to us. My pulse picked up and a panicky sensation shot through me. Three minutes sounded like a long time—entirely too long, actually.

  “It’s just an exercise.” Her brows drew together, and she tilted her head to the side, appearing to reconsider. “Maybe it’s too hard.”

  Her words triggered something in my brain—I didn’t like anyone telling me a task was too hard. In my thirty-eight years, I rarely turned down a challenge. It was just how God made me. “It’s not too hard. Let’s do it.”

  “Good.” She brightened, and picked up her phone, setting a timer. “Go.”

  Our gazes locked and my heart slammed against my chest, my hands instantly turning clammy. An electrical charge, a zap, sparked between us, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I wasn’t sure if I could handle three minutes of this, but I wasn’t about to cave in. A few moments went by, and my shoulders began to relax. There was a humorous glint in Abby’s eyes though the rest of her expression remained blank. I concentrated on the outer rim of her irises. The outer circle was dark blue, and the irises themselves were a lighter blue with flecks of gold. Her eye shadow was a greenish color, and it made the flecks stand out even more.

  “So beautiful,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “Your eyes…they’re amazing.”

  A pretty blush swept over her cheeks, and she shifted ever so slightly but kept her gaze locked on mine. The timer went off, and she glanced away. It took me a second to realize I was still staring at her, not able to take my eyes off her. It was as if nothing else in the room could draw my attention from her.

  She brought her gaze back to me. “If you give a woman that kind of eye contact—even a fraction of that—it’ll make a huge difference.” Her blush deepened, and she waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry, I guess that exercise was a little out of my comfort zone.”

  A warm sensation brushed through me at her acknowledgment. I had affected her—really affected her given the red color spreading across her cheeks. It gave me a sense of power knowing I’d done that and a bit of courage as well. I was ready for the next exercise. “What’s next?”

  “All right. Let’s talk about the conversation on a date.”

  Great. She’d gone straight for the jugular with that one since making conversation outside of a professional setting was my biggest flaw. I tightened my lips and nodded. “What do I need to know?” I held my pen over my notepad, waiting for her next words.

  “When you’re on a date, there needs to be a two-way discussion. You say something, and then she says something.”

  I wrote down: two-way conversation. “Okay, got it.”

  “No, I don’t think you do.”

  I put my pen down and crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you mean?”

  “During our date, you dominated the conversation when you told me about your research. You didn’t wait for me to respond, never asked questions so I could participate.”

  Oh, that. “I didn’t know what to say, really, so I just went with what I knew.”

  “I understand, but if you want a woman to enjoy your company, you need to make sure she’s a part of the conversation. If you’re doing all the talking, she’s just sitting there. Conversely, if you remain quiet the whole time, it makes her feel like she has the burden of pulling the conversation along.”

  “I thought that if I talked about work, I’d at least have something to say.”

  “And that was good,” she said. “But you’ve got to notice nonverbal cues to make sure you aren’t boring the other person, and if you are, it’s time to change the subject.”

  “All right, so how do I know if I’m boring someone?”

  “Pay attention to body language. Is the woman looking around the room? Fidgeting? Checking the time? If so, engage her and bring her back.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  “Ask questions.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “Anything that has to do with her life, hobbies, interests. You have to be interested to be interesting.”

  “Can you repeat that?”

  She did, and I wrote it down verbatim. “Okay, what else?”

  “That’s the main thing I want to concentrate on right now. Just be curious. If you hope to get to know someone, you’ve got to ask questions in order to learn more.”

  Clearly, that was where I’d gone wrong with Abby. I couldn’t think of one question I’d asked her during our dinner. No wonder she’d said no to a second date. I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, Abby. I really messed things up, didn’t I?”

  “Forget about it. That’s over and done with. I’m helping you so you don’t make the same mistakes on your next date.”

  Next date. That didn’t appeal to me at all unless it was with Abby, but she was only seeing me again to help me improve. “Right. So, what else do I need to do?”

  She let out a breath and cast a scrutinizing glance my way. “Well, you could use a little enthusiasm. Smile more. It’s important to project positive energy. No woman wants to spend time with a dud.”

  “Smile?” I asked as if I didn’t understand—a nervous reflex of mine—but I completely understood. Problem was, I didn’t feel like smiling most days.

  “Yes, let’s see you smile right now.”

  I forced my lips to curve upward, but it was fake and I knew it.

  “Come on, Colin, you can do better than that.”

  I made the smile spread a little higher on my face, but I wasn’t feeling it and she could tell.

  “What do I have to do to get a real smile from you?”

  Shrugging, my jaw tightened from the pressure of having to perform.

  Abby jumped up from her chair and did a little dance that reminded me of a performance by Ginger Rogers. She was kicking her feet while her arms swayed back and forth. “Do I have to do this to get you to laugh?”

  Wha
t was she doing? She was crazy…totally and completely crazy. “Abby, people are starting to stare.”

  “Good, let them.” She twirled around and danced to the music filtering in through the overhead speakers. Most of it sounded like elevator music, which made the scene even stranger.

  And then the music changed to a song I recognized from the seventies. It was Car Wash, and I nearly lost it. Abby began to lip-sync as if she were doing Karaoke, and she pretended to wash a car, doing motions that went along with the lyrics. She was a ham, and it was clear she enjoyed the attention. I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, not caring that people were staring at us. Abby finished out the song and everyone in the room gave her their applause, some even standing from their seats.

  She bowed and then sat back down like it was nothing. “It’s nice to know you’re capable of smiling, Colin.”

  I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. “You’re something else.”

  “I do my best.”

  “I can see that.”

  “You’re pretty handsome when you smile,” she said. “Did you know that?”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.”

  Her confession pleased me. “How handsome?” I leaned forward and looked her straight in the eye this time. I was a quick learner.

  She blushed as I hoped she would, but she didn’t back down or grow self-conscious. “Handsome enough to throw me off balance.”

  The statement surprised me, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled even bigger. “I think I enjoy seeing you off balance. It makes you do funny things like dance in the middle of Coffee Queen.”

  She laughed. “Oh, honey, that’s just me. You got a rare glimpse into Abbyville.”

  Honey. I got a kick out of hearing her call me that, and it sent a thrill through my system. “How often do you show this side of yourself?”

  She shrugged and scooted her chair closer to the table. “Usually only to people I really like.”

  Warmth spread through me, and it seemed as if I was finally getting somewhere. “You like me?”

  She considered. “Yeah, I think I do.”

  Her phone rang, and she looked at the screen. “It’s Wilhelmina. Let me take this.”

  She answered and walked out to the mall while I sipped the rest of my coffee. She returned a few minutes later. “Wilhelmina was just checking in.”

  “What did you tell her? That I’m a sorry student?”

  “Hardly. I told her we’re making good progress.” She glanced at our empty coffee cups. “Looks as if we’re done. It was short and sweet, but I don’t want to overwhelm you. Even though it was short, we accomplished a lot this evening.”

  I nodded reluctantly, not wanting the time with her to end. “Yes, eye-contact, ask questions, and smile.”

  “You got it.” She hesitated as if fearing she might offend me. “It wouldn’t hurt to get a haircut and trim your beard.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  She picked up her purse and seemed ready to leave. “We’ll schedule another time soon.”

  “Wait.” I couldn’t let her go. “I need more help on the type of questions to ask. Maybe we can walk around the mall and you can give me more pointers.”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have anything else I have to do.”

  Chapter 6

  Abby

  I couldn’t believe I told him he was so handsome he threw me off balance. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t thinking at all. I was reacting, and I needed to be careful not to say stuff like that again or I might give him the wrong idea. Yes, I found him attractive but attraction wasn’t enough. Compatibility was important for the long haul, and we were definitely not compatible.

  Maybe it was crazy, and perhaps I was being unrealistic, but I wanted a man who could wow me. Someone who had that certain something…

  The mall was mostly empty except for several groups of teenagers who walked by with arms linked together. Colin and I were walking side-by-side, and I was struck by how much he towered over me. It was more noticeable now that we weren’t sitting down. He was a pretty big guy for a science dude. I was supposed to give him pointers on the kind of questions he should ask while on a date, but we hadn’t spoken about any of that yet. We strolled at a leisurely pace and took in our surroundings, neither of us in a hurry to get back to the dating talk.

  Two teen boys walked by wearing nearly identical clothing, and Colin wrinkled his forehead. “Funny, but they all look similar. Same haircut, same stride.”

  “It’s a stage. They’ll grow out of it.”

  “Were you like that as a teen?” he asked.

  I smirked. “I was as typical as they get. My step-mom didn’t know how to handle me. I was a bit much back then.”

  He eyed me with interest. “How so?”

  “I was rebellious—did things on my own terms. My dad wasn’t sure how to deal with me either. Even put me in therapy for a while.”

  “Seems like you turned out okay.”

  I smirked again, hoping it covered the sadness that inevitably showed up when I thought of those days. “That’s debatable.”

  He studied me for a few seconds, and his eyes were tender and caring, and they seemed to search the innermost parts of my heart. “We’re all broken in some way, Abby.”

  “Yes, I suppose we are.” An overwhelming sensation came over me—a gut feeling that this man was kind, and I could trust him. I didn’t know why I thought that. Maybe it was the tenderness in his eyes or the gentle manner in which he spoke at that moment. “What were you like as a teenager, Colin?”

  “I was a loner. Studied diligently—school was everything to me. Plus, my dad wouldn’t have allowed any funny business. He was stern, distant, didn’t tolerate much.”

  “Was that hard on you?”

  He shrugged. “Made me into what I am today.” He continued walking with a faraway expression on his face. “Maybe that’s why I have a difficult time relating to people. I didn’t socialize much back then. Or now.” He said the last part like it was an afterthought.

  “I’m sorry, Colin. It sounds like you just needed a friend.”

  He smiled as if it pained him to do so, and his shoulders turned forward as if they held the weight of the world. “That’s probably true.”

  I had a feeling I’d touched on something that made him uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. “Let’s talk questions. Wilhelmina scores you another date…what do you ask this new woman?”

  A startled expression crossed his features, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, I suppose I can inquire about her job.”

  “That’s a good starting place. What else?”

  “I can ask if she has any hobbies.”

  “She tells you she likes to sew. Now what?”

  “I guess I would say that’s nice.”

  I laughed. “Great, but you’ve got to probe for more. Find out what kind of projects she’s working on…that kind of thing.”

  “All right.” He appeared to think. “I’d ask how she learned to sew.”

  “Great question. Keep going.”

  “And then I’d ask why sewing is so enjoyable to her. That way I’d understand her better.”

  I put a hand on his arm. “See? You’re not so bad at this. I don’t think you really need my help. You just needed time to think it through.”

  He flashed a disarming smile, clearly pleased with my encouragement. “I do need your help.”

  “Maybe just a little, but you’ll be fine.”

  “What if I can’t think of a question? What if I’m so nervous nothing comes to mind?”

  “If that’s the issue, then prepare ahead of time. Have a list of things you might want to ask.” I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket. “I did some online research before our meeting, and I found some funny questions. They made me laugh, and I wasn’t going to share them because they’re a little out there, but now that I think about it, asking a few of these might lighten t
hings up, especially if you’re nervous. Just don’t make it seem like an interview and don’t have the paper in front of you. You might have to memorize a few.”

  “Got it.” He glanced at me again, and I felt a flutter in my stomach as his gaze settled on my face. Walking side-by-side seemed to relax him. It beat the awkwardness of sitting at a table.

  I winked. “You’re sure you’re ready for these? I have some deep questions here.”

  He nodded, appearing more serious. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I mean, you might have to bare your soul. Think you can handle it?”

  He stiffened a little, and I instantly regretted teasing him. “Yes, I can handle it.” He said it decisively, and I couldn’t help but respond to the confidence in his voice even though it was most likely forced.

  We went up the escalator and once we reached the top floor, we turned a corner and headed east. “Just remember I gave you an out.”

  His forehead creased, and he offered a wary smile. “Warning noted.”

  “All right. Here goes.” I opened the piece of paper and glanced at the first question as we passed by a family of four. “How many days in a row do you wear the same pants before it becomes a problem?”

  He looked at me for a long moment as if I’d lost my mind, and then his eyes flickered with humor. “Am I on one of my week-long hikes or am I working?”

  I snapped my fingers. “That’s right, Wilhelmina mentioned you like to hike.”

  “Yeah, I love being out in nature. It’s one of my favorite things.”

  “That’s really cool. I’ll say you’re on a week-long hike then.”

  He looked straight ahead and chuckled. “In that case, I might wear the same pants all week. I tend to rough it.”

  “Nooo,” I said as if I didn’t believe it, but I totally did for some reason.

  “I usually carry a backpack and taking extra clothes would only weigh me down. Of course, I take underwear and such.”

  “Glad to know you have some standards.”