Tag Archives: Molly’s Misadventures
Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance
Date Published: January 11, 2016
Yikes! Walking in on my husband getting it on with his secretary was definitely not on my agenda for the day.
I’m having the suckiest day – ever. First, my father, aka Mr. Grumpy Pants, calls to say his nurse just walked out on him. Likely story. I rush home to pack, only to walk in on my husband having sex with his secretary. Gross. I can’t get out of there quick enough. I’ve got a plane to catch and a dad’s problems to fix. Dad’s problems are an easy fix. NOT. Thank my lucky stars I’ve got Danny, the neighbor boy I’ve had a crush on since I was a dorky, braces-wearing, nose-buried-in-a-book teenager, and a brand-spanking new blog to keep my mind off things. Before I know it, I’m writing product reviews of vibrators and getting questioned by a store rent-a-cop after the world’s worst date. All while trying to figure out how to take things with Danny to the next level. Not to complicate things or anything, but my boss decides to give me an ultimatum–come back in four weeks or don’t come back at all.
Choices. Choices. Choices. A scary new career that may cause me to fall flat on my face or return to my established position? And where does Danny stand in all of this?
A Coffee Date with the Police
Posted by: Molly Smith at 4:00 p.m.
Okay, I admit I assumed my first ‘real’ date in over a decade would be a disaster of epic proportion. I never thought—in my wildest dreams—that the next date would be even worse than that. What’s worse than epic? I have no words. Let me know in the comments if you think of a (mis)nomer that works.
Let’s back up a bit, shall we? Just how did Molly end up on another date after the ambush date? I call it temporary insanity. I let my best friend talk me into signing up for a dating website. I must have been completely out of my mind because I also agreed to go on two dates a week. Not enough craziness? I also agreed to blog about these dates. What have I gotten myself into?
Considering the ambush dinner date of last week, I decided to go for a coffee date with Harry. Not his real name, obviously. I’ve decided to use aliases for all my dates that start with the letter ‘H’. I once had a friend who named all her children with names that start with a ‘D’. I always did love alliteration, so I’m totally copying her on that one.
Anyway, my coffee date with Harry. I suggested we meet up in the coffee shop located in a bookstore. It’s a new bookstore I haven’t had time to explore yet. I figured if the date was a dud, I could always do some book shopping because everyone knows you can never have too many books.
The date started out really well. I had mentioned my addiction to lattes when chatting with Harry. When I arrived at the bookstore, there he sat with a fresh latte waiting for me. I’m not going to describe Harry’s physical characteristics because that makes me sound shallow. And now you all think he’s fugly. Well, he’s not. At least not on the outside. Wait until you finish reading to decide on the rest.
We drank our coffees and chatted for about fifteen minutes. Harry was funny with that dry humor that I love so much. My stomach rumbled after a while, and Harry suggested we head to the diner down the street for lunch. I thought it sounded like a great idea and readily agreed.
I should have realized something was off when he then hurried out of the store without waiting for me. I wasn’t expecting him to hold my hand or anything, but he could have walked out the door with me. Well, let me tell you, there’s a very good reason he took off like a rabbit in heat.
I walked through the exit and the security gates started to beep and the lights twinkle. I didn’t think anything of it. I’ve had plenty of security alarms go off by accident before. Being the good citizen I am, I immediately stopped and turned to the security guard rushing towards me.
He grabbed my bag and opened it. To my great surprise, he pulled out the book: Kama Sutra for Beginners. OMG! I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my life. I made the incredibly stupid comment: “How did that get in there?” The security guard just looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he’s probably heard that one before.
It didn’t take but a second for me to realize that there was only one way that the book got in my bag—Harry, Mr. Not-So-Nice-After-All. I immediately started to lie out of my ass. “Oops!” I may have even done a giggle at this point. “I must have forgotten to pay for that. Shall I just get in line over there?”
Nice try, Molly. The security guard shook his head at me and told me to follow him. He took me straight to the front of the line—because getting caught stealing the Kama Sutra wasn’t bad enough, I also had to piss off all the people waiting in line. But then he decides to find his voice, and he booms loud enough for the whole store to hear: “Caught this lady trying to steal the Kama Sutra.”
I tried to use my nonexistent magical powers to teleport out of the store, but, as I said, my magical abilities are nonexistent. Instead, I just stood there, turning so red my face could have probably lit up the store. I quickly paid for the book and got the hell out of there—escorted by the security guard, of course. I didn’t even bother to see if Harry was at the diner. I was afraid of what I’d do to the thief if I saw him in person. I rushed home and thanked the goddess that I’ve started stocking my bedroom with wine.
Whose idea was it for me to get back in the dating game, again?
About the Author
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But practicing law really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out running a B&B wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Date Published: January 11, 2015
I’m having the suckiest day ever. First, my father, aka Mr. Grumpy Pants, calls to say his nurse just walked out on him. Likely story. I rush home to pack only to walk in on my husband getting it on with his younger, skanky secretary. Unfortunately, my quick weekend trip home to fix Dad’s problems turns into a stay of a few weeks. Luckily, I’ve got Danny, the neighbor boy I had a crush on when I was a dorky, braces-wearing, nose-buried-in-a-book teenager, and a brand-spanking new blog to keep my mind off things. Before I know it, I’m writing product reviews of vibrators and getting questioned by a store rent-a-cop at the world’s worst date ever. All while trying to figure out how to take things with Danny to the next level. Not to complicate things or anything but my boss decides to give me an ultimatum – come back in four weeks or don’t come back at all. How in the world did my life get so complicated?
Danny clears his throat and turns to me. “I was going to ask you something about your blog.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you ever blog about me?”
I nearly choke on my wine. “Blog about you? The blogs are about my dates.”
“Babe, pay attention.” He grabs my chin. “What do you think we’re doing?”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “Being good friends?”
He shakes his head. “Um, no. I’m wooing you.”
“Yeah, wooing.” He points between us. “Do you think I drink wine on my porch with just anyone?”
I’m confused. “You don’t like wine?”
He chuckles. “Look at me. I’m a single guy with a kid. Why would I have wine in the house?”
The dominoes begin to fall in place. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Come over here.”
He takes my wine and places it on the ground next to his glass before firmly grabbing my head and planting his lips on mine. The kiss is soft, sweet, and everything that’s right in the world. And it’s not enough. I want, no need, more. I grab his neck and pull him closer. He growls and grabs my head to tilt it to his liking so he can deepen the kiss. I’m putty in his hands by the time he eases up and pulls back. What. Just. Happened?
About the Author
I grew up reading everything I could get my hands on from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew to Little Woman. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although I did manage every once in a while to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. Another job change, this time from lawyer to B&B owner and I was again fed up and ready to scream I quit, which is incredibly difficult when you own the business. Thus, I shut the B&B during the week and in the off-season and started writing. Several books later I find myself in Istanbul writing full-time.
$10 Amazon gift card