Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 2: A New Adult Romantic Comedy Read online

  Contents

  CoaSD - Book 2

  Author's note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Thank you!

  This book is work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains explicit material and is intended for readers 18 years or older.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of any wordmarks mentioned in the following fiction.

  Copyright © 2016 by Adele Huxley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  All requests should be forwarded to: [email protected]

  Chronicles of a Serial Dater is a series of 7 short stories designed to keep you laughing all summer long, with a new release nearly every week. Mark your calendars with these dates!

  Book 2 - July 27th

  Book 3 - August 3rd

  Book 4 - August 10th

  Book 5 - August 17th

  Book 6 - August 24th

  Book 7 - August 31st

  Bonus online content will also be released with each addition, adding to the interactive fun! Be on the lookout for any chapter ending with this image:

  Believe it for not, all the dates, conversations, and horror stories in this series are real. Readers just like you were kind enough to share their funniest and worst dates for our entertainment. At least something good came out of them! So if you’re reading these and at any point think, “Come on now, this is too ridiculous,” just remember…

  The truth is always stranger than fiction, and nothing is stranger than online dating.

  You can still get in on the fun! If you have a funny/bad/horrible date you’d like to share, or even some hilarious online conversations, email me at [email protected] with the subject “SUBMISSION”

  “I saw your latest video,” Anette said, her words dripping with meaning.

  Even with the crappy internet connection, we could easily see Lourdes roll her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this since you called. Come on. Let’s get it over with.” She dipped her head and gestured toward the camera, inviting the comments.

  “What? I haven’t seen it? What’d she do now?” I asked, looking between Anette and the computer screen for any clues.

  “Do you want to tell her or would you rather I do it?”

  Lourdes laughed, her curly hair bouncing with the movement. “Be my guest. I’d love to hear your interpretation.”

  Anette’s brown eyes were wide and sparkling with mischief. “Our dear friend is apparently reviewing sex toys now. This week, instead of testing out the latest lipstick shade, she tested out a massive double-ended dildo.”

  My jaw dropped as I stared at the screen for her reaction. “You what now? You recorded…”

  “‘Net! It wasn’t double ended, for God’s sake. Tee, it was a normal dildo of perfectly normal girth and no, I didn’t demonstrate it on camera. What on Earth do you women think of me?”

  “Uh huh, sure. I saw it! The thing could be used as a weapon if someone breaks into your apartment.”

  Lourdes laughed and tutted. “I know cocks and cock-like things aren’t your favorite flavor of tea, but I thought you’d be more open-minded than this.”

  I grinned, happy to be a spectator as the conversational tennis match bounced back and forth. It was great to just hear Lourdes call us by her nicknames. These video chats instantly erased the distance, a whole country stretched between us in New York and her in Los Angeles.

  As the two bantered on, my phone buzzed in my lap. After taking a quick glance to make sure they were completely embroiled in their play fight, I swiped the screen open and saw a message from Phillipe, a guy I’d been texting for a couple days.

  “Hey cutie, how are you? Been thinking about you?”

  I tried to hide a grin as my thumbs quickly slid across the keyboard.

  “Good. Busy. You?”

  “I’m good now ;)”

  Lourdes’ increasingly loud voice caught my attention. I tucked the phone between my thighs and covered it with my hands. “Will you slap her for me, please?”

  Anette bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. “All I’m saying is there’s a name for a woman who gets paid for sex. And it rhymes with the ‘constitution.’ Which, FYI, is rather ironic if you think about it.”

  Without having heard most of the conversation, I still gave Anette a playful smack on the shoulder.

  “Thank you! For one thing, I’m not getting paid to have sex, I’m getting paid to talk about it. Secondly, if you knew how much they were paying, you’d have your own channel up within the hour. And finally, there is a word for that kind of woman.” She grinned as we both sat waiting for her delayed response. “Entrepreneur.”

  “I think it’s resourceful,” I proclaimed, making a mental note to watch the video when I got a second. My phone buzzed between my legs but had to leave it until Anette looked away.

  “As long as you can hook us up with freebies, I’m all for it,” she laughed, finally conceding to Lourdes’ superior debate skills. “Cock-like objects don’t bother me, for the record.”

  The two fell back into a less heated conversation and I stole a second to check my text. When I swiped my screen open, I wasn’t able to hold back a gasp.

  Followed by a photo of a large penis. I say “a penis” because I have no way of knowing if it was actually his penis, nor would I now ever care to find out.

  “Oh, ewwww,” Anette sneered as she spotted the photo in my lap.

  “What’s that face for?” Lourdes asked as Anette snatched the phone from my hand.

  “Cock-like object detected!” she declared as she held my screen up to the camera.

  “Impressive,” Lourdes giggled. “Someone you know or are you browsing porn while we talk?”

  My cheeks must’ve turned ten shades of red as I grabbed my phone back. “No! This guy I was… he… nevermind. It’s nothing. So, are you planning on branching out into the wide world of flavored lube?” I asked attempting to turn the focus back on her.

  “Nuh-uh, you aren’t changing the subject,” Lourdes said, shaking her head. “What? Is this your first dick pic?”

  “Oh, we haven’t told you! Our dear little Talia, like millions of other twenty-somethings, has joined the online dating world.”

  I shot Anette a look and rolled my eyes. “And regretting every moment of it. Obviously.” With a few taps on my screen, I deleted Phillipe, and his dong, from my life.

  “Aww, you haven’t met anyone?”

  “We aren’t all as naturally gorgeous and charming as you,” I deflected.

  “She’s landed a few creeps, but we’re still trying,” Anette butted in.

  Lourdes’ perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. “We?”

  I gave the camera a long-suffering smile and she laughed. We all knew and accepted Anette for her particularly intense brand of love. Lourdes was probably thankful to not be on the rece
iving end of it for once.

  “It’s good you’re getting out there, though. I’m proud of you.” Her expression pinched in a way that years of friendship could only decipher.

  “What is it?” I asked with a monotone voice. “You aren’t saying something.”

  She huffed and shook her head, tight curls bouncing around her face. “I can’t keep a damn thing from you, woman. Are you sure you want to know?”

  “I do! I do, I do, I do,” Anette called out.

  Lourdes took a moment before continuing. “Kevin moved out here.”

  “He what?” I gasped, unable to stop my reaction.

  “I haven’t seen him,” she said defensively. “Just heard it through a friend of a friend, but it’s true. He’s living out here.” She pressed her lips together, knowing she was delivering bad news.

  “With her,” I said flatly, to which Lourdes nodded. “Figures.” I couldn’t stop the sinking sensation in my gut any more than I could hide my reaction. Both Anette and Lourdes made annoying sounds of pity. I blinked back tears of sadness and anger. “It’s fine. It’s so stupid,” I said, wiping my cheek dry with a knuckle.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I figured with you out on the dating scene…”

  “It’s good. It’s all good,” I sniffed. “Just stings whenever I think about it. But thankfully I’ve had more than enough bad dates to keep my mind off him.”

  Lourdes pressed her lips together in a slight grin. “What kind of bad dates?”

  “You have no idea,” Anette groaned. “There was the guy with real mommy issues, then Mr. Chompy,” she started.

  “Mr. Chompy?”

  “He did this before every kiss,” I replied before thrusting myself toward the camera. I wiggled my eyebrows in an exaggerated act of seduction, made a kissy face, curled my lip, and clacked my teeth together. Enjoying Lourdes’ horrified face, I leaned back and crossed my arms. “He did that every time we made out.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Right?”

  “And then the last guy I went out with was ten kinds of creepy and farted the whole time. It was so bad, I had the bartenders sneak me out the back exit so I could get away.”

  Anette shook her head. “And that brings us to the Mr. Dick Pic.”

  “Holy shit. You should write all this down before you forget,” Lourdes said, wiping a tear from her eye from laughing so hard.

  I nearly told them about the blog but held back for some reason. It was great sharing the horror stories with them and all, but I’d created it to be my own safe little place to vent. This conversation was a perfect example of why I needed to start keeping things to myself a bit more. It was my life after all, not a joint decision-making team.

  “I totally should,” I replied with a secret smile.

  “Ahhhh, why?” I moaned to myself as I ran around the room in a panic. I grabbed random clothes, snatched my bag off the back of a chair, and stopped dead in my tracks. “I’m forgetting something.”

  I wracked my barely awake but adrenaline-fueled brain for a few precious seconds. I had less than ten minutes to make it all the way downtown if I was going to be on time, which at this point would be nothing short of a miracle. But I was mostly dressed and nearly out the door, which was pretty good considering I’d been dead asleep five minutes before.

  What is it? What is it? I thought as I turned in a slow circle. I could almost hear the seconds ticking by as I tried to remember what was so important. Nope. Not coming to me. I don’t have time!

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered under my breath as I ran out the front door. I slipped my arm through the sleeve of my top just as my feet touched the sidewalk. Two seconds outside and I was already cursing the office dress code. It was too damn hot for sleeves. As I jogged to the subway, I pulled my sweaty hair into a high ponytail. At least I didn’t put on any makeup this morning. It would’ve melted off by now, I thought.

  Of course it was the one day where everything was working against me. The train was late, people were in my way, I didn’t have time to get coffee or breakfast. I overpaid for a piece of fruit from the stand on the corner just so I could have something in my stomach while Lisa chewed me out. On the ride up the elevator to our floor, I tried to compose myself with a few deep breaths, ignoring the sweat dripping down my back, sides, and forehead.

  I’m the kind of person who feels late if I don’t show up early, so to be legitimately running off schedule wasn’t something that happened often. I wish I had a good excuse but the honest truth was, I’d simply slept through my alarm. All these late night, mid-week dates were taking a toll on my normally steady sleep patterns. I couldn’t exactly say that to her, so I had a few excuses lined up in case Lisa pinned me to the spot.

  I dumped my stuff off and legged it down the hall to her office where Abi was already waiting. After spotting her shit-eating grin as I pushed the door open, I quickly looked away.

  “Talia,” Lisa said in a firm voice.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Abi added in a snotty tone.

  “I’m so sorry. I know it’s completely unacceptable for me to…”

  Lisa waved my excuses away with the flick of her hand. “No need. You’ve never been late before, but let’s not make this a habit, yes? Abi, continue.”

  Abi looked at me like a fish out of water. She was obviously dejected I wasn’t about to be fired or suspended or any of the other dream scenarios she’d played out in her head. It took her a moment, and an arch from Lisa’s eyebrow, to stammer back into the conversation they’d been having.

  It gave me a few moments for my heart to slow down, the sweat to stop, and for my morning to catch up with me. Even so, I knew I was going to be off for the rest of the day.

  “That brings us to your project. Any issues hitting the deadline today?” Lisa asked, turning to me.

  Today? I thought with panic. “Nope, none whatsoever.”

  “Good. Mr. English’s team has a huge and honestly,” she said, peering over the rim of her glasses, “overly complicated marketing campaign set up. If anything throws it off schedule, there will be hell to pay.”

  With a growing lump in my throat, I nodded, appearing in full agreement. “Of course. Completely understandable.” And that right there is what I forgot this morning.

  “Great. Do you mind giving me the first couple chapters when you have a chance? I just want to have a look through them to satisfy my own curiosity.”

  We concluded the meeting soon after. I avoided Abi as I briskly walked back to my office and shut the door, collapsing into my chair with a huge groan. “I forgot the fucking manuscript at home.”

  I had no idea what I was going to do. I’d already shown up to work late, so I couldn’t exactly make an excuse and leave early. My antiquated editing system was coming to bite me in the ass. For whatever reason, it’s easier for me to edit with a physical copy of a manuscript. There’s something about the paper and ink, the tactile act of holding the paper that makes the errors leap off the page. If I’d just done it the way everyone else does, digitally, I wouldn’t have found myself in this situation.

  Switching on my computer, I gave myself a mental pep talk. This was a last-minute cram session before a huge test. This was starting an essay two hours before it was due. I was going to have to dig deep into my editor toolkit and hopefully remember the marks I’d made on a piece of paper that sat on my desk thirty blocks uptown.

  I slipped off my shoes, stretched out my fingers, pushed my damp hair away from my eyes and got to work, starting with sending Lisa the first few chapters I’d thankfully already marked on my computer.

  “You’re working awfully hard,” Abi said as she leaned against the door eating an apple. Even the sight of her chubby face chewing made my empty stomach grumble. I didn’t have time to get food. I didn’t even have enough time to order delivery, let alone eat. “Thought you were basically finished.”

  I ignored her smug smile and focused on my screen, reread
ing the same sentence twice. “Some of us care about quality.”

  “Uh huh. If you need any help, I’m sure Lisa wouldn’t mind passing it over to someone more qualified.”

  I blinked up, wanting nothing more than to throw a heavy paperweight at her already smooshed-up face. “Sounds great. If I do need any help, you’ll let me know if you think of anyone more qualified, won’t you? Ok, great! Good talk. Bye, Abi.”

  Abi sputtered at my quick sneer and turned on her heel, leaving me to my empty office. I thought about getting up to shut the door but didn’t want to waste the precious seconds it’d take. I was coming down to the wire with this project and refused to lose face in front of her.

  For all her harsh leadership, Lisa works harder than the rest of us combined. She’s not the sort of person who won’t ask you to do something she wouldn’t do herself. So when I was still in the office past 7 p.m., she seemed genuinely impressed, in her own way.

  “Are you going to have any trouble getting that to Mr. English’s personal assistant?” she asked from the doorway. She hadn’t announced herself and her voice made me jump.

  “No!” I exclaimed, dropping the computer mouse on the desk in surprise. “No, I’m nearly done. Just giving it a once over before I send it.”

  “I liked what I saw in the chapters you sent,” she said with a nod. It was the closest thing I’d ever gotten to a compliment, but it felt like ten.

  “Thank you.”

  She turned swiftly and disappeared into the darkened hallway without any further pleasantries. I sat in stunned silence for a moment, feeling like that the day from hell was somehow worth it for that alone.

  A half hour later I declared defeat. I’d caught as much as I could. As hard as I’d tried, I knew I hadn’t spotted every single mistake but hoped that I’d done a good enough job. I sent the manuscript off with a few notes describing my thoughts of the work as a whole.

  With dry, scratchy eyes and an empty belly, I stood and stretched, eager to leave the office. A low light in the room next to me caught my eye as I flicked off my lights. I stepped lightly to Abi’s office and had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.