Blind Date

BLIND DATE

by RK Moore

Copyright 2012, RK Moore

www.rkmooreauthor.wordpress.com

Kindle Edition

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author
’
s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental
.

‘
This is a bad idea.
’

‘
No, it
’
s not. It
’
s just nerves talking. You
’
ll be fine.
’

I watched Raine busy herself, taking several outfits from her wardrobe and laying them out on the silk-covered bed between us. I wished she was coming with me. Up until the start of the week, I
’
d been adamant I wasn
’
t going on this blind date she
’
d set up for me. I
’
d told her that I was doomed to be single all my life and had come to terms with that. In turn, my best friend had responded with a bemused look and told me it was all arranged. Percy was well aware of my little predicament.

‘
And he still said yes?
’
I
’
d asked, frowning.

Raine had nodded enthusiastically. She was probably hoping that her match-making was finally paying off.
‘
I think he sees it as a challenge,
’
she
’
d said with a wink.

I gazed at the dresses on the bed, wondering if I
’
d manage to squeeze my generous bulk into the more petite Raine
’
s clothes. I didn
’
t own any glamour attire myself. Never saw the point in it when I never felt brave enough to venture out for an evening.

Raine spun round to touch up her make-up in the vanity mirror, casting glances at me as she did so.
‘
Just choose which dress you want. You can bring it back tomorrow... provided you
’
re not being occupied.
’
She winked.

‘
He
’
s not going to turn up,
’
I said with a sigh.
‘
But I
’
ll play along with this nonsense. So, what look should I go for on this ill-fated date? Virginal? Slutty? Intelligent?
’

Raine paused, and stared at my reflection.
‘
Excuse me, but I own nothing
but
slutty clothing.
’

I laughed and picked up a crimson mini-dress with a zip on the front, glancing down at my poor excuse for a cleavage. At least there was no chance of spilling out of any dresses tonight. Below a black, sequined basque, I found a nice dark velvet jacket which would keep me warm in the cold autumnal air.

‘
Clothes picked,
’
I called out.

Raine looked at the dress and jacket, nodding with approval.
‘
Excellent choice. I
’
ve got some black strappy heels in the wardrobe that
’
ll go nicely with them. Knickers?
’

‘
What?
’
I frowned.

‘
Are you wearing knickers or not?
’

‘
You mean right now? Of course I am,
’
I said, feeling my face flush.

Raine laughed.
‘
All right, I can see you
’
re uncomfortable. I
’
ll not ask if you want to borrow some crotchless panties, then.
’

‘
No way!
’
I said, a little too quickly. I felt the wrapped towel around my head begin to slip. I dropped the clothes and held the towel in place.
‘
Look, have you got a hat I could borrow?
’

‘
Hat? Did you forget to bring one with you?
’

‘
Not exactly. Let
’
s just say that
’
s now nine hats ruined this year,
’
I said, unhappily.

Raine gave me look of pity and then nodded towards her wardrobe.

‘
Thanks,
’
I said.

‘
Are you hungry?
’
Raine asked, heading towards the door.
‘
I
’
ll make some sandwiches while you get ready.
’

‘
That
’
d be great. Thanks,
’
I told her.

She paused at the door, her eyes looking to the left of me.
‘
Honestly, don
’
t worry about tonight. He will turn up. Just be yourself. He
’
ll love you.
’

- - - - -

It was exactly an hour after the date was supposed to have started that I decided to cut my losses and head home. Of course I knew he wasn
’
t going to turn up - I mean, who would agree to meet for a date in an old, abandoned house? - but a tiny part of me had been hopeful, had thought maybe it would be different this time.

Carefully opening the front door I looked outside, making sure no one was about and then left the shack. I
’
d never found out who had owned the delapidated building on the edge of town, but I was glad to have stumbled across it one evening. It had almost become my permanent home - no postman or politicans looking for votes would ever knock on the door. Of course, I had to be wary of drunks and drug addicts using it for their own means but, well, anyone who went into the place when I was there tended not to come back out again.

I came to a stop at the end of the uneven path. I could hear people approach from along the road. I dashed across the garden to where the hedge was thickest and hid. Then a car pulled up nearby, and a door was opened.

I peeked above the hedge. A black taxi cab had stopped mere feet from where the path met the street. Very slowly, a man got out of the back seat and stood patiently on the pavement as the taxi drove off. I kept my eyes on the man who, I noticed under the glare of the street lights, was wearing sunglasses.

With alarm, I realised the man was moving forwards, and walking onto the path to the house. He didn
’
t look like a drunk, or the kind of addict that came here.

As he approached the house, a polyphonic version of a Michael Jackson song filled the air. The man stopped and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small phone.

‘
Hello?
’
He had a pleasant tone to his voice, I noted.
‘
Yes, arrived safely. Driver seemed a bit surprised when I told him the address,
’
the man was saying.
‘
A bit nervous, yes.... No, honestly. I
’
ll be fine. You
’
d only be a gooseberry anyway. Look, I
’
m already late as it is... Yes, I
’
ll tell you how it went. Bye.
’

He switched off the phone and put it back in his jacket. Taking a deep breath, he continued along the path. He raised his hands in front of him, as if fearful of bumping into anything. By now, I had come out of my hiding place. I was safe - he was blind.

‘
Perseus?
’
I asked cautiously.

The man stopped and turned his head towards me. A big, warm smile spread across his face.
‘
Medusa?
’

THE END

Coming Soon

Neighbourhood Witch (a paranormal romance novella)

There was a young woman who lived on the edge of the village, but she never received visitors, nor was she invited to any parties or village fetes. It wasn
’t that she was disliked. It wasn
’t even because she was a witch. The sole reason why people in the village left her alone was because poor Henrietta was accident-prone.

The house next to Henrietta's - never occupied for more than a couple of months - has just been bought. The villagers wonder who's bought it, and whether they should be warned about Henrietta. After all, none of the others heeded their warnings.

Meanwhile, Nathan is looking forward to living in a quieter place, after growing bored of the city life. In the village he'll have peace and inspiration for his paintings, and get a chance to meet new people. Starting with his next door neighbour.

Also by RK Moore

P.A.S.C.O

Welcome to P.A.S.C.O - a company with an unusually high turnover of staff. Some leave via the door, others via a coffin. Stevie, fresh from the jobcentre, lands a job at PASCO. Except he doesn't quite know what position he's applying for. The jobcentre was vague on that point. The office does boast a large amount of mythology books, however, and in the basement he encounters a strange goat-woman hybrid locked up in a cage. Something tells Stevie this isn't a typical 9-5 job.

Note from the Author

As a gesture to say thank you for downloading a copy of Blind Date, I
’d like to offer you a free copy of PASCO. Just use this code - FW22Q - on Smashwords to grab a copy. Coupon expires on Sept 17 2012.