Redhead Meets Redneck: First Date

Redhead Meets Redneck:

First Date

Ansley Gilmore

Published by Ansley Gilmore

Copyright © 2012 Ansley Gilmore

This is a work of fiction. Characters, institutions, organizations, and events mentioned in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously without any intent to describe actual conduct.

Chapter 1

Friday Afternoon

Laura’s office

Laura Richardson had checked her watch four times in the last three minutes; it was now three-thirty on Friday afternoon. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a short, wide, pantsuit walking down the hallway. She sat a bit straighter and pushed back her shoulders as she prepared for the trouble coming her way.

Hey, you weren’t wearing that outfit at lunchtime. Whasup? Keisha stopped in front of Laura’s office door.

I’m going out tonight.

Going out tonight? Why wasn’t I invited? Any of the girls from the office going with you? Hey, wait a minute, do you have a date? No wonder you put on that blazing red miniskirt and snug-fitting sweater. I love the wide black belt, and check out those four-inch red heels.

Well, I’d rather not say.

Girl, don’t you mess with me. Do you or don’t you?

Sort of . . . Laura nonchalantly shrugged.

Keisha took extra large steps as she marched into Laura’s office. Why didn’t you tell me at lunch that you had a hot date tonight?

Oh, I knew you’d make a big deal out of it.

"It is a big deal. All the girls in this office have been trying to set you up for months, and now out of nowhere you found a guy? What’s his name?"

Calm down. It’s only our first date, and his name is William Robert Helmsley.

Helmsley? As in the Helmsley Hotel in New York City?

No, he’s in the construction business.

Oooo, big and muscular?

Actually, he owns his own construction business.

Aha, he’s rich. No wonder you didn’t want to tell us about him. You want him all to yourself. Do me a favor. If things don’t work out, let me have his telephone number.

Calm down. We’re just going to have dinner, then if I like him–

Like him? What’s there to not like? He’s rich!

I know, but I think I should at least go on one date before I agree to marriage.

Ha. Okay, so you go on two or three dates, and then get married?

Keisha, do me a favor.

Sure, I’ll be glad to be your bridesmaid.

Laura rolled her eyes. Seriously, I don’t want anyone else to know.

Why not?

Laura paused and took a deep breath. I met William online.

What! You went out and dug up a rich dude on the internet? Girl, you never cease to amaze me.

Laura slowly turned her notebook computer around so Keisha could see a picture of William.

Keisha let out a deep whistle. "Rich and good looking. He’s bulked up like a bricklayer, and that Armani suit he’s wearing looks great with his dark wavy hair and blue eyes. Those suits cost two-thousand dollars. How rich is this Mr. Helmsley?"

Keisha, if this doesn’t work out, all the girls in the office will be laughing at me until I retire. That’s why you have to keep it quiet.

Yeah, I see. You don’t want anyone to know you blew your one shot with Mr. Rich Muscular Dude. That’d be embarrassing.

Thank you for understanding.

When and where is your dinner date?

Six, at a place called Mama’s. It’s thirty minutes from here.

Honey, your secret is safe with me under two conditions.

What’s your price?

First, call me tomorrow and tell me all the details about how the date went.

Okay, what else?

Like I said, if things don’t work out, you give me his telephone number.

It’s a deal.

***

William pulled his four-wheel-drive GMC crew-cab pickup truck into his office parking lot. Jimmy, I’m going to have to leave work a little early today. I have a meeting I have to go to.

Another zoning meeting with the county?

Not exactly.

Is the architect giving you trouble again? That guy is such a nit picker.

No . . .

Is there something you aren’t telling me?

William paused. Sort of . . .

What’s going on, Billy? We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. If you’re in trouble, you can talk to me about it.

I’m going to Mama’s.

That’s the big secret? You’re going to dinner without me. I can handle that. Sometimes best friends need a little space. Tell mama I send her my love.

Jimmy, it’s not like I need space. I . . . I’m having dinner with someone.

Jimmy paused. Hold on, Billy, do you have a date?

Her name is Laura Richardson.

Laura? Where’d you meet her?

"It’s not important where I met her. She’s a kind and intelligent lady, and I want to get to know her better."

Billy, did you meet her online?

William looked down at the floor of his truck.

Online dating? Come on, Billy, you could have any girl in the county, and you had to go online to find someone? Wait until the rest of the guys find out.

Jimmy, you can’t say anything, please.

What’s the problem? Afraid you might get rejected? That’d be funny. Billy Bob gets dumped by an online girlfriend.

You have to promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone.

It’s going to cost you.

How much?

I want to see a picture of her.

You drive a hard bargain. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, slipped out a photo, and handed it face down to Jimmy.

Jimmy turned over the picture and took a long look at a smiling young lady leaning against the hood of a two-seater Mercedes in a sexy pose that held his attention.

Sweeeeeet heaven above. She’s hot! I didn’t know you liked redheads.

William smiled. I have a new appreciation for the internet.

Okay, I’ll keep this a secret, but you have to keep me informed on how things are going with little Miss Hottie.

It’s a deal.

Chapter 2

It was four p.m.; Laura clicked a database on her computer and entered the name William Helmsley. A single line appeared on the screen:

December 24, 2001-Speeding-67 MPH in a 20 MPH zone-2 points.

Laura began breathing again. He had no criminal record other than a silly traffic ticket. Now it was time to call him. It was her last chance to back out. She had traded emails with him for three weeks, but had never talked to him on the phone. She clicked another database and entered the name Helmsley Construction Company. She held her breath again while the database did its magic. The data popped up, a triple-A credit rating, and it had been incorporated ten years ago. So William and his company were for real, and he wasn’t a sexual predator, a thief, or a liar. She wrote down the telephone number for the company, and picked up the telephone. He was always on the road. At least that’s what he said when she asked for his number. Dialing his office, she waited and wondered what it would be like to date someone with lots of money.

Helmsley Construction Company. How can I help you? the receptionist said.

I’d like to speak to William Helmsley.

"William Helmsley? Sure, hold on. The receptionist’s voice became rather loud, like she was yelling across a factory floor. Hey Billy Bob, you got a call on line two."

Billy Bob? That’s not the person I want to talk to. I want to talk to the owner of Helmsley Construction Company.

"Billy Bob is the owner, and he’ll be here in just a moment."

The emails to Laura had always been signed William. She had no reason to think that William Robert Helmsley could be a Billy Bob. Maybe it was time to retreat. No one at the office knew except for Keisha, so she wouldn’t be too embarrassed by cancelling the date with Mr. Billy Bob.

Hello, this is William Helmsley.

Thank goodness, he didn’t like the Billy Bob thing. Hello, this is Laura. I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I’m having trouble with the directions to Mama’s.

Hi Laura, no problem. I’m glad y’all called. I’m looking forward to dinner, and it’s nice to finally talk to you.

Y’all? Billy Bob just referred to her as y’all? He had a deep slow sexy voice, and she sort of liked the southern accent, but the y’all was a bit too much. It’s good to hear your voice, too. My problem is that the directions you emailed me said to turn left at the intersection of I-95 and route 642. My GPS said I should take a right.

The intersection has been changed recently, and the GPS manufacturers haven’t updated their databases yet.

Okay. Got it. Thanks. Laura had all the information she needed. William sounded friendly and had a nice voice, except for the y’all part of the southern accent. There was no reason to cancel tonight’s dinner.

I’m looking forward to dinner, Laura.

Me too.

I’ll see y’all at six.

There was that y’all again. Six o’clock at Mama’s. See you then. Goodbye, William.

When the clock struck five, Laura grabbed her purse and walked briskly down the maze of halls to the elevator. She pressed the button for the first floor and a crowd of people squeezed in around her. She realized that if she had left one minute earlier, her exit would have been faster and less stressful. She wanted to be calm, and pleasant when she met William.

Laura exited the elevator and walked to the shortest line at the security checkpoint. Standing at the end of the line, she counted twelve people in front of her. Thirty seconds per person meant she would have a six-minute wait. She looked at the people in front of her. They were normal, average people, the kind of people you would see on any street of America. Some were analysts, some were engineers, and others were computer geeks. Then, her eyes drifted to the marble wall on the far side of the room, and she looked at the five rows of stars. She read the engraving above the eighty-three stars. In Honor Of Those Members Of The Central Intelligence Agency Who Gave Their Lives In The Service Of Their Country. She always felt humbled when she looked at the