Set Up for Love Read online

  “I’m going to put on a pot of coffee so you can tell me all about him,” she said.

  And I did.

  THE END

  ABOUT SUSAN HATLER:

  Susan Hatler writes humorous and emotional contemporary romance and young adult novels. A natural optimist, she believes life is amazing, people are fascinating, and imagination is endless. She loves spending time with her characters and hopes you do, too. You can visit her website at www.susanhatler.com

  Other books by Susan Hatler:

  Shaken (coming soon):

  High school junior, Kylie Bates, can suddenly read minds. When she touches people’s hands, she’s able to see their deepest thoughts. As if that’s not freaky enough, her dad sends her to help hottie detective, Sam Williams, track down a missing girl. Way too much pressure, especially for a girl who can’t watch Scream without getting nightmares.

  Then, finding the missing girl leads to much more than Kylie’s prepared for. Like discovering that her dad has been lying to her. That she has a family she never knew about. That the girls have powers similar to hers. Oh yeah, and that someone is out to get her.

  When the detective’s teenage wanna-be-cop cousin, Trip Williams, approaches Kylie at school insisting she help him solve the case, she discovers Trip might be the only one she can trust, and the only one to help her unravel the secrets behind her mysterious gift.

  See Me (coming soon):

  Amy Love, a high school junior, plays a Ouija board with friends one night and unintentionally connects with someone whose, well, not visible to the naked eye. When her body’s taken over and her soul is stuck watching helplessly—she’s terrified. When the zombie guzzles bologna that she will have to work off at the gym—she’s angry. And, when her zombied bod pulls up a news article on her laptop about a boy named JJ Miller who was recently in a car crash—she’s . . . intrigued.

  When the zombie chooses another host, Amy learns that the zombie is actually teen JJ Miller, the famous son of Maisy Meow comic creator Jonathan Jacob Miller Sr. JJ tells Amy he doesn’t know whether he’s dead or alive, only that when he’s not in a body, she is the only one who seems to know he exists.

  Amy decides to help JJ discover what happened to him and, when they can’t find his body, they try to find a substitute—preferably one that isn’t occupied. On the journey, JJ leads Amy into all kinds of danger. To her surprise, he also leads her heart to somewhere unexpected. She’s always heard of love at first sight, not love at first fright, but how can Amy be falling for a boy she’s never even seen?

  BLIND DATE, CHECKMATE

  by Veronica Blade

  * * * * *

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I had such a great time putting together this anthology with Virna and Susan and am so grateful to them for: (1) inviting me into this project; (2) babying me along the way; (3) picking up my slack; and (4) just being awesome in general.

  Virna and Susan have been sweeter and more pleasant to work with than I could have hoped for and I feel very fortunate to have been able to do this project with them. I’m honored that they had the faith in me to pull off my end of it.

  Biggest thanks to my dear hubby for putting up with the neglect of the last few weeks and his unwavering support throughout my writing career. I couldn’t ask for a better man to share my life with.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  Various ways to murder my best friend rolled through my mind. But if I got rid of her, she wouldn’t be around to talk to. Then I’d just be more lonely. Despite the guys I’d dated, not many of them had tempted me enough to sleep with them. I was used to living without a soul mate. I didn’t want to live without my best friend, too.

  There were other ways to punish her for secretly arranging a blind date for me — and waiting until the last minute to tell me about it. Ways that would drag out the pain, make her suffer longer. I’d spent two hours every day for the past nine years working off my sexual tension at the gym. I could take her.

  “No, Ginny. Call him and cancel. I’m not going. Besides, aren’t you forgetting Jared?” I asked as an after thought. “I like him. Going out with another guy doesn’t seem right.” Granted, we’d only gone out once before he moved and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, but he’d do as an excuse. The point was he was a known entity. One I was comfortable with. One who was a hundred miles away but that was a fairly easy weekend commute. And he had promise. Who knew what I’d get with this last minute blind date?

  Ginny’s eyes snapped to mine. “Nothing against Jared. I like him, Shelby. I’ve known him longer than you have. But he did leave. If you’d made it to a third date, that’d be a different story. In the meantime, you can date another guy.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to date another guy. It might work out with Jared,” I said in a pouty voice.

  “Or it might not. You should keep your options open.” Ginny canted her head and gave me a sly smile. “But you’ll never know unless you meet him."

  “But a blind date, Ginny?” I grimaced, then shook my head. “No. I’m not that desperate.” Not yet, anyway.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I give up. If you want to cancel this date, you’ll have to do it yourself. Here’s his number.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tiny piece of paper and thrust it at me.

  “What? No way.” I shook my head violently. “You set it up—”

  “As usual, I was looking out for you. If you think I’m going to be the bad guy here, you can forget it.”

  Bad guy? Guilt swept through me and I hesitated, but then I saw her lips quirk.

  I narrowed my eyes. She thought she was so slick.

  But I was slicker. I shrugged, putting on an air of indifference. “Then the poor guy’s going to sit at the restaurant and wait for a date that never shows up.”

  “Trust me, a guy that hot won’t be waiting alone for long. But if you blow him off, don’t be complaining to me about your love life — or lack thereof — ever again.”

  Apparently, I wasn’t as slick as I thought because the words ‘a guy that hot’ piqued my interest. How hot were we talking about? Hotter than Jared? That would be saying something.

  I reconsidered. Whether it was Ginny or I who called and cancelled, some guy was going to have his plans for the evening ruined. What if he had a fragile ego? Unlikely if he was hot, but possible.

  What else did I have to do now that Jared was gone?

  Let’s not forget Ginny thought this guy was hot. If nothing else, I’d get a nice meal out of the date.

  A girl has to eat.

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes to keep up the pretense. Ginny would gloat if she thought she’d won and I wouldn’t want her to make a habit of setting me up on blind dates. “When and where?”

  She smiled smugly. “You’re meeting him at six tonight at The Boat House. Remember where it is?” She grabbed her purse from the overstuffed chair.

  “Yeah, I sell real estate, remember? I can find just about anything in Sacramento even without a navigation system.” I rose and followed her to my front door. “So what’s this guy’s name?”

  “Have fun.” She gave a mischievous grin. “And let me know how it goes,” she said over her shoulder, just before disappearing outside.

  “Hey, wait a second—” Too late. She was gone. Great. I checked my watch. Two hours to kill. Grabbing my phone, I texted Ginny.

  What’s Hot Guy’s name?

  I stared at my phone but there was no immediate reply. I plopped onto my black suede sofa and flipped on the giant flat screen TV. A second later, I turned it off and glanced around my living room. I had everything a girl could want — nice house, great friends and a profession I loved and was damn good at. But it wasn’t enough. Loneliness swept over me. Unfortunately, it was an all-too-familiar feeling. One I’d lived with for years. All because of one man.

  Chances were that even if I liked my date tonight and he liked me, even if we went out and kept going out and even if it led
to sex, I’d still be lonely. Because let’s face it, whoever I dated would never be the man I really wanted.

  Logan Starks.

  Nope, no one could measure up to good old Logan. The love of my life. The boy who’d taken my virginity nine years ago at age seventeen. The dog who’d moved to Los Angeles to live with his dad, then dumped me after stringing me along for months.

  Even now, a familiar pain sliced through me. No wonder Ginny had blindsided me with a blind date. She probably knew better than anyone that a part of me was still hung up on Logan. But I refused to give him any more of my mental energy. At least not tonight. He didn’t deserve it.

  My attention turned back to the stack of mail. At the bottom of the pile, Logan’s face smiled up at me from the cover of the latest Movers and Shakers magazine. I bit my lip and told myself to toss the rag in the trash. In the end, I couldn’t.

  Enslaved by my curiosity, I flipped through the pages to find his interview. He had a whole spread, complete with multiple photos — Logan at the tender age of twenty-three when his debut novel had hit the New York Times bestseller list, Logan at his first movie premier wearing a tux and a blonde starlet on his arm, a quote from a reviewer praising the work of the great writer and another announcing his new three-book deal and hefty advance.

  Page after page recorded his epic moments in the last four years, but I already knew about most of them. You didn’t even have to leave your house to hear about Logan Starks.

  The gossip magazines and tabloids didn’t normally pursue writers. Even the biggest names in books rarely made their way into those coveted pages. But the paparazzi loved Logan’s face — along with most of America’s female population. Being spotted at posh clubs in Beverly Hills with the co-star of his first movie had spiraled him into the limelight and given him a secure spot on the A-list. He’d become a household name and forgotten all about me.

  I gave myself another mental slap for caring. Hollywood could have him. I didn’t need him. Who knew where things would lead with Jared? Or this blind date? I had options. And if I worked fewer hours and made myself more available for dates, I’d probably have more.

  It took me a few minutes, but eventually my pep talk worked. I felt better.

  I felt even better when I tossed the magazine in the trash. For good measure, I opened the fridge, took out several molding containers of leftovers, and dumped them on the image of Logan’s handsome face. “Bye bye,” I said caustically.

  I checked my watch. Five-fifteen. I only had about thirty minutes to get ready. No way would I go on a blind date and not look my best. That meant I’d be slightly late. The question was whether to dress slutty or classy. I stood in front of my open closet.

  Neither, I decided. Better to err on the safe side since I had no idea who my date was or anything about him. I grabbed a black pencil skirt just a hair too short for showing houses and a soft pink cashmere tank top that clung to my every curve. Choosing a pair of too-high strappy heels that brought me to nearly five eleven, I laid everything on the bed. No nylons, no jewelry.

  At record speed, I showered and straightened my long auburn waves. I skimped on the make-up since I didn’t want my date to think I was trying too hard. Or that I needed to. Men respond better when they think you don’t care.

  I checked my watch again. I’d be even more late than I thought. Crap. Had to hurry.

  Wait. How would I find him? Ginny still hadn’t returned my text. Talk about the blind leading the Blind Date. My heels clicked as I walked to the front door and texted her again.

  What does Mr. Hottie look like? Any identifying marks or tattoos?

  Feeling more upbeat since covering Logan’s face with week-old lasagna, I imagined Mr. Hottie having a tattoo or two, maybe something on his stomach that led to his happy trail.

  Unfortunately, in my mind, Mr. Hottie looked a whole lot like Logan.

  ***

  I stood outside the entrance of The Boat House with sweaty palms. I was already fifteen minutes late, but I couldn’t bring myself to go in. Why was I nervous? It wasn’t as if I’d never been on a date before. Somehow, this one was different. And it was more than the blind date. It was the way Ginny had set it up without asking, how she wouldn’t call it off. She really wanted me to go out with this guy, but why?

  It didn’t matter. He still wasn’t going to be Logan. He could never be. After all, Logan and I had a pretty long history.

  Our moms had been best friends so he and I had grown up together. He was a year older than me, fifteen, when he asked me to be his girlfriend. We were together nearly three years and I never once imagined I’d be with anyone but him for the rest of my life.

  A couple months before my seventeenth birthday, Logan arrived at my house, face flushed and hands trembling. His parents were getting a divorce and his dad was moving to Los Angeles. They’d agreed that Logan would go with his dad and his sister would stay with his mom. He wasn’t given a choice.

  We’d intended to make the long distance thing work. He kept promising that when he turned eighteen, he’d come back. He never did. Eventually, he stopped returning my emails or calls.

  And it was over. I’d lost the love of my life and my best friend.

  No matter who I dated afterwards, I’d always remember what I felt like when I was with Logan. I wanted another love like that. If I couldn’t have it, why bother?

  I’d probably die of old age, still single and childless. I was so screwed.

  But I was already there and I was hungry. I told myself to go inside and meet Mr. Hot and Gorgeous. I snorted, beginning to suspect Ginny was exaggerating the physical appeal of my Blind Date. She’d finally answered my text with, You’ll know him when you see him. Look for the most gorgeous guy there.

  I’d barely stopped myself from replying: If he’s so hot, how come you’re not going out with him? She’d only remind me she was already married. Sure, rub my face in it.

  A couple exited the restaurant holding hands and laughing, eyes shining as they gazed at each other. Love, the kind that brought loyalty, trust and security. The kind that meant if you got in a huge fight, he’d still be there in the morning. The kind that didn’t dump you and pulverize your heart. My chest tightened over the memories and I took a deep breath. Time to go in and meet my date.

  Inside, I forced a polite smile at the hostess. “I’m meeting someone. I’ll just have a look around.” Walking the aisle, I scanned the tables for anyone sitting alone. Men glanced at me when I passed by and I recognized their looks. Appreciation. Admiration. Lust. And that familiar feeling filled me. Power.

  Too bad I couldn’t harness the power long enough to make a man fall in love and stay there forever. At least, not one that I felt the same way about.

  I spotted a guy wearing a dark blue sweater and jeans with a leather jacket hung over the back of his chair. Even from his back, he looked like he could be the best looking guy in the room. Dark wavy hair, broad shoulders. A quick survey of the restaurant also told me he was the only one in the entire place without a tablemate.

  My stomach fluttered.

  Time to see if he and I clicked. I came up around him on his right and he twisted away from me, checking his jacket pocket for something. As he turned back, I caught his profile.

  Oh. Dear. God.

  With my feet rooted to the floor, seconds passed before I realized my mouth had dropped open.

  That guy wasn’t my date. Ginny wouldn’t do that to me. This was just some cosmic joke. Whoever Ginny had set me up with had to be around here somewhere. I resumed walking and stumbled on my own toe. Regaining my balance, I held my head high and forged on. I passed the man, my legs moving like they were wading through sludge.

  “Shelby?”

  I halted, my fists rolling into a ball.

  I could do this. I could see him again without falling apart. Stretching taller, more confident, I whirled to face him.

  “So good to see you.” He beamed and motioned me over to his table.
r />   I stared at him, soaking in the features that I’d seen just an hour ago on the cover of a magazine. They were exactly as I remembered. Same steel gray eyes, which had gazed at me like I were an angel. Same dark hair I’d run my fingers through. Same hands that had cupped my face as his lips had whispered how much he loved me.

  But that had been a lifetime ago. My jaw tightened but I forced myself to speak. “Hello, Logan.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Logan’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t Ginny tell you?”

  I flinched at the confirmation of Ginny’s betrayal. Why had she done it? She knew how badly Logan had broken my heart. I couldn’t imagine what she’d hoped to accomplish. Unless she was under the impression I still loved him and he had feelings for me?

  Dizziness made me blink. My heart thud-thud-thudded.

  A waitress barreled down the aisle carrying a tray of drinks and I squeezed closer to Logan’s table to make room. Logan’s table. Not mine. I wasn’t staying. Whatever the reason was for this set-up, it wasn’t because he had feelings for me. Not after all this time.

  “Shelby—” He started to stand and I held up a hand as if to stop him.

  He lowered back to his chair, waiting for me to speak.

  But when I opened my mouth to tell him off, nothing came out. And when I tried to move my legs to walk away from him, they remained frozen.

  He sighed. “If Ginny didn’t tell you, this must be quite a shock. W-Why don’t you sit down? Since you’re already here.” He waved toward the chair across from him.

  I shivered at the gravelly tenor of his voice. Funny, I’d been observing him the last five years as he matured to a man. But the pictures had been a flat, dull version of him. Live and in person, his mannerisms and sexy voice brought his good looks to life.