Free Mr. Right.com by Rebecca K. Watts Page B

headed back to her room. She wanted to brush her teeth and spray on some perfume before leaving. She passed Richard on her way up. They smiled at each other.
    Back downstairs, she hailed a cab. As soon as her butt hit the leather seat, the driver pulled off. With each turn, she was thrown across the back seat despite her seat belt. He swerved in and out the traffic. Olivia hoped every cab driver in the city didn’t drive like he did.
    “I’m not in a rush.” She braced herself by holding the door handle.
    The driver either didn’t care or didn’t understand her. A bulletproof glass separated them.
    By the time he pulled up in front of the club, she was on the verge of suffering from motion sickness. Her head was spinning. She got out and paid him. He peeled off in search of his next victim.
    The club looked very small from the outside, almost like a hole in the wall. Surprisingly, there were several people outside waiting to get in. She walked over to them. Her fingers flew over her phone keys as she sent a text to her date to let him know she’d arrived.
    Find a table. I’m a few minutes away.
    Inside, a hostess led her to a table in the far right corner of the club. If she had a choice, she’d be more in the center, but the club was packed. A local musician was performing, and he was good.
    The waitress took her order and returned in no time. Olivia took in the décor. The place was cozy with simple but elegant decorations of purple and ivory. Music notes and photos of jazz legends past adorned the walls. She sat there a few minutes, enjoying the music, and sipping on her drink until she saw someone familiar heading in her direction.
    What the heck is he doing here?
    “Is this seat taken?” Richard asked. Being the only white person in the place, he stood out.
    “Not at the moment, but I am waiting on someone.”
    He needed to leave before her date showed. Richard was making her uncomfortable.
    “You sure he’s not here now?”
    “I doubt it.”
    “You mean you aren’t ShyGirl?”
    The liquid from Olivia’s drink caught in her throat, and she coughed. This couldn’t be right. It had to be some sort of joke. She was waiting for a guy named Chris. A black guy.
    “There’s no way I could’ve mistaken those pretty brown eyes. I knew it was you the moment I saw you sitting at the bar. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”
    Finally finding her voice, she said, “I think I need to leave. This was a mistake. I thought I was meeting a black…I mean someone named Chris.” Embarrassment had set in.
    She had a discreet profile—someone had to be her friend in order to see it. All of Olivia’s photos were head shots. Richard had body pictures, not head shots, and what a lovely body it was. She knew he had an eagle tattoo on his back right shoulder and that his member curved to the left. What she didn’t know was what his face looked like. His tan was so dark she assumed he was biracial—black and white. She’d never dated anyone who wasn’t black, anyone she worked with, and definitely not next in line to be CEO!
    Her heart raced and she adjusted herself in her seat. Olivia’s eyes went from him to the door then back to him.
    She stood up to leave. Richard placed his hand on hers. His touch sent chills throughout her body.
    “Olivia, don’t leave. It’s okay. Let’s at least enjoy the evening.”
    She was already there and even if she left he’d still know she was ShyGirl. What could listening to jazz music with him hurt?
    “Okay.” She sat down. “Hold on. I thought your name was Chris. What about those messages you sent me earlier? How the heck did you do that when you were in front of us speaking?”
    He laughed. “Slow down. Chris is my middle name. It’s not like ShyGirl is your real name.”
    She nodded.
    “I sent those messages on the break we had right before I began speaking. I guess with the bad reception in the conference area it was delayed. Believe me, I