Opposites Attract: An Enemies to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers Romantic Comedy (First Comes Love Book 1) by Camilla Isley

Author:Camilla Isley [Isley, Camilla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: chick lit, clean romance, Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Love Hate, needs an amazon review
Publisher: Pink Bloom Press
Published: 2021-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Vivian

Dr. Magnanimous agrees to let me stew for a few days on what we discussed. Still, the conversation leaves me kind of raw. In my office, I try to concentrate on a deposition but fail miserably. When my phone rings, I welcome the distraction.

“Hello. This is Vivian Hessington.”

“Hi, Miss Hessington, this is Barbara, your Dating Specialist from Listen to Your Heart. Can you talk now?”

“Yes, I’m not with a client.”

“Great, because I have good news. The agency has found a new match for you. Would you be free this upcoming weekend?”

“Yes,” I confirm. Provided my daughter doesn’t get deeper into her teenage rebellion phase.

“Perfect. I’ll inform your match and let you know as soon as he picks a location and time.”

“Okay, fantastic. I’ll wait for your call.”

***

The date ends up being a Sunday brunch at Robert, a classic New York spot. The restaurant is nestled atop the Museum of Arts & Design and overlooks Columbus Circle and Central Park. I’ve only been once, but always wanted to come back. The view from the top is amazing.

I enter the iconic New York building through the glass revolving door, ignore the museum admission booth, and head straight for the elevator. There are no mirrors on the elevator walls, but I still try to check my reflection in the silver plates of the sliding doors as it carries me up to the ninth floor.

Even through the distortion, I’m happy with what I see. My dress is new—teal silk, knee-length, with peekaboo shoulders—and so are the suede magenta pumps. Plus, Tegan curled my hair and spent close to an hour meticulously following a “Perfect First Date Makeup” tutorial on YouTube. My daughter has assured me I’m channeling all the right “Taylor Swift at the 2015 Grammys” vibes.

When I reach the top floor, I give the hostess the alias Barbara gave me for my mystery man—Mr. Tolstoy. The woman’s eyes widen slightly at the uncommon-but-famous name and directs me to our table—a window one! True, we’re in the second row, but this place must get busy on Sundays, especially since I saw it mentioned in Eater New York recently in a piece about restaurants with stunning views. Maybe that’s where my date got the idea to have lunch here.

I’m admiring the beautiful views of Central Park when the hostess comes back to show a man to the table next door—the one closer to the windows. He thanks the woman, sits, and our eyes meet.

Mine narrow, while his widen.

“You,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on a blind date. You?”

“Same.”

Lucas gives me a once over, taking his time, his gaze resting on my shoes longer than is polite. I wiggle my ankle pointedly.

His eyes snap back up, and he coughs. “Yeah, I can see that. You’re less… I mean more… err…”

Dr. Keller never finishes the phrase, changing the subject instead. “Should I ask for a different table?”

A quick scan of the restaurant reveals all the window tables are occupied—both rows.

I’m about to tell him “don’t

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