The sane thing for me to do would have been to run in the opposite direction and flee for my life the second that I saw his bright blue eyes and bad boy smile. But I'd never been considered completely sane. So I stayed. I fell. I loved. And I broke.
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Chapter Fourteen:
I looked down at the red dress I'd put on, much tighter than anything I'd usually wear, and took a deep breath. I was filled with nerves as well as anxious butterflies, and I didn't know if I was doing the right thing, but Gemma seemed to think that I was.
She'd gotten sick of me crying, sick of the pity-party that I'd been throwing myself for months, and she'd finally lit a fire under my ass and told me that she'd set me up on a blind date with someone that she knew. As she'd put it, I wasn't going to get over her son if I wasn't going to put myself out there, and at least try to get 'under someone else', so she had done it for me.
I walked into the nice restaurant and looked around, then locked eyes with a handsome brunette who was sitting at a table by the corner in a button down shirt and a pair of black slack pants. He was the opposite to Jax, well put together and clean cut like he was a business man, something that I never would have expected for Gemma to pair me with for an evening out.
When I got to the table he stood up and smiled. "Are you Ellie?"
I nodded my head and shook his outstretched hand. "Michael, I'm presuming?"
"That would be me." He pulled my chair out for me, a kind gesture that told me that his parents had raised him to treat a lady nice, and I sat down. "You look beautiful tonight, Ellie."
"Thank you." I looked around at the candle-topped tables and listened to the sound of light jazz playing through the background. "Wow, this is fancy, isn't it?"
When he agreed and sat back down at the chair across from mine, I thought about how it was the exact opposite of my first date with Jax. Then I cursed my brain for thinking about him when the whole point of the date was to try and forget about his existence.
"So, Gemma tells me that you're a singer from Georgia?" Michael asked to break the easy silence we'd found ourselves in.
I chuckled. "I sing a little."
"She said that you left Georgia because a producer heard your band, only wanted to sign you and you broke up because they got ... well she said something that I won't repeat." He prodded lightly.
I frowned. "Woah, for someone who doesn't like her secrets bein' shared, doesn't she have a big mouth?"
"Sore subject?" He cringed.
I smiled at the waiter who bought us a bottle of wine that Michael had ordered when I'd first arrived and waited for him to pour our glasses so I could chug it before I answered. "Not really, what she said was true. We were big in our little town, a producer came to one of our gigs and liked my voice. He tried to sign me, I was loyal to my band, and we broke up anyway because they were hurt that they weren't offered the contract with me."
