Free Mr. Right.com by Rebecca K. Watts

letting him know she made it.
    After ordering room service, she grew anxious sitting in the room. She headed downstairs to the bar, figuring a glass of wine would help her sleep better. The morning meeting had her on edge. The outcome could result in big changes within the company. She had a feeling her job would be secure, but with the way the economy was going, who knew what tomorrow would bring. She had more than enough saved to get her by for at least six months, without dipping into her 401K or savings bonds, but she didn’t want to be next in the unemployment line.
    “What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
    “Ice wine, please.”
    “A woman with taste I see.” He smiled at her and poured a glass.
    She winked at him and gave it a taste. The sweet taste was heaven to her throat.
    “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing drinking alone?” a voice said from behind her.
    Olivia turned to see a handsome, mid-thirties white man with a deep tan, standing behind her.
    “What makes you think I’m alone?” she said taking a sip of her drink.
    “Because you only ordered for yourself.” He flashed a Colgate smile. His teeth were perfect.
    “Point taken.” She smiled.
    “You mind if I join you?”
    “Sure, why not.”
    “I’m Richard, by the way.” He offered his hand.
    “I’m Olivia.”
    “What brings you to D.C., Olivia?”
    You sure are freaking nosey.
    “Meetings.”
    “You too, huh? I’m here for the same thing,” he said. “Can I get a Heineken?”
    The bartender placed Richard’s beer on the counter.
    “Well, I hope it’s not as boring as the last few I’ve been too.”
    “I hope not either. The bigwigs are always long winded and go on about nothing of importance.” He leaned in a little too close for her comfort.
    “Is that right? I’ll know soon enough.” She knew enough about office politics not to get caught up in these types of conversations. Doing so often ended up being detrimental. Changing the conversation, she said, “Where’re you from?”
    “New York, and you?”
    “Chicago .” She smiled.
    “Chicago ?” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m surprised. You have a bit of a southern accent. Not strong, but it’s definitely there.”
    Olivia swallowed before speaking. “I moved up to Chicago from Mississippi in high school.”
    She finished her drink and waved the bartender off from refilling her glass. Olivia wanted to get away from that man. He was too nosey and arrogant for her liking. Richard reminded her of most of the upper management males she ran into. She pulled out her card to pay, but he insisted on covering the tab.
    “Thank you.”
    Olivia headed back to her room and fell asleep watching TV.
     
     
    Chapter Twelve
     
    An internal battle waged during the meeting: Olivia versus sleep. Had she not been the only black female, she probably would have lost the fight. Being easy to spot gave her extra will power. There’d already been three speakers—each saying that they wouldn’t be long. Forty-five minutes later, they finally finished. She wasn’t a fan of coffee, but she was going to get a cup on the next break. Olivia had to do something. Otherwise, her forehead was going to smack the table in front of her.
    Her body relaxed, and her head tilted forward. She couldn’t stop it. Olivia was almost a goner until they announced the managing director of the New York office. She watched the man from the bar walk up to the front of the room.
    “Good morning. Most of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Richard Lawson.”
    Olivia’s mouth flew open. She’d being drinking with a director, not just any, but the head one. From the first word out his mouth, she couldn’t take couldn’t take her gaze away from him.
    Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. Richard seemed as if he were looking directly at her as he spoke. He was an excellent speaker, very animated, and held her undivided attention.
    Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz. Her cell phone vibrated