An excerpt…or 3… Just to give you an idea of how the choosing goes.
From the end of Chapter 1: Happy Hour…
How Laura can turn men into desserts isn’t that much of a mystery, but that she has me considering lemon bars, or some other, maybe more extravagant dessert as my new favorite is an excellent tactic. It’s working. I’m actually kind of, maybe…perhaps…interested in tasting something other than ‘cake?’ And definitely not a Peter-like cake.
“You need to sample all the variety of male delights out there, woman! You don’t want to look back at your life and regret the chances you didn’t take. And you never know what you’re made of unless you try. Right now, you need to live a little! You don’t need to get yourself all mixed up with someone looking to settle down. You’ve been there, done that. You’re too young to do that again. Viva la vida!”
“Don’t feel you need to jump into the deep end,” Shannon cautions. “You could just start with a nice, successful man. With an accent. Start with just dipping your toe into the waters.”
I don’t know what to do. Both Shannon and Laura make good points. They’re my best friends, and I admire them so much. Shannon for being so sensible. And driven. Stable. Laura is completely the opposite—a dreamer. Whimsical. Sexy. Both inspire me. I trust them both implicitly. But I’m not looking to meet anyone because I’m never getting married. I like my life the way it is. And if something were to come up… Say if fate were to deliver a man to my doorstep or whatever, I might consider things differently then. Not this forced ‘going to a club’ or a ‘blind date.’
I should probably just shut all this nonsense down right now. I should probably say no to both of them. A bad blind date could damage my friendship with Shannon. I can’t imagine that any guy I meet at a club would be my type in any way, shape, or form. I mean, if something is meant to be, it’s meant to be. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to. Others shouldn’t be putting their noses in the business. Whatever happened to fate, right?
But I know my friends. Once I said ‘maybe’ it was like throwing the barn doors wide open. I don’t think either of them will back down now.
What should Penelope do?
Go clubbing with Laura?
or
Go on the blind date Shannon’s offering?
[In the digital version the choices in the book are navigated with hyper links to the proper point in the book.
In the paperback version there are “Turn to Page #” instructions to move you through the story.]
**** If you choose to go “clubbing with Laura”…
(scoll down for a peek at the “blind date” choice)
Laura’s impassioned speech about the variety of ‘desserts’ holds a certain…appeal.
She’s right. Peter was kind of like a boring cake. Not all men are the same. I should probably try something new. Besides, there’s no commitment at a club. And no hard feelings should a blind date go horribly wrong.
“What kind of club are we talking about?”
Laura squeals and claps her hands. “My favorite place for live music is featuring a band that’s supposed to be fantastic.”
“Aaand…what time does this all happen?”
“I’ll be over to pick you up at nine. We’ll pre-game a bit and make sure you and I are dressed to the nines and then show up at the club around…oh, ten?”
“Seriously? Ten?”
“Trust me, hon,” Laura continues. “Earlier than ten are all the loser men, many of whom have to get home to their ladies before it’s too late.” The suggestion that the early group are cheaters is enough to have me on board with the late time despite my initial objection to going out so late. I’m usually curled up in my pajamas by ten, sometimes earlier. Then I think about cake. I think about how my marriage lacked excitement. How I probably played a part in that…lacking.
“See you at nine,” I say, putting on my best smile.
TWO DAYS later, Friday night, Laura and I are not ten minutes at the club and I’m very aware of the guys checking me and Laura out. Well, probably more Laura with her naturally vibrant red hair seductively cascading over her creamy, bare shoulders and gracing the top of her breasts spilling from her sexy ensemble: a strapless, deep-purple corset with black leather pants and four-inch, bright red heels.
I’m wearing the sexiest thing Laura could find in my closet, a Little Black Dress I’d bought for an anniversary dinner with Peter years ago. His reaction wasn’t what I was going for when I appeared in the low(er)-cut, short(er)-skirted number. The memory of his comment, ‘I’m kind of surprised to see you in something so slutty,’ still stings. I was ashamed at the comment and ran upstairs to change into something more to Peter’s liking. The dress got shoved to the back of my closet and stayed there, completely forgotten. How ironic that a slut is exactly what he was looking for in a woman.
(This scene continues at the club and after you meet Mitch, there will be more choices.)
**** If you choose to “go on the blind date”…
“A British accent, hmm?” A warm, tingly feeling in my belly blooms just thinking about a man with a lilt whispering in my ear. I don’t know why, and it makes zero sense, but for as long as I could remember, men with accents were always somehow more attractive than men without.
Before I can even tell her I’d take her up on the blind date, Shannon has pulled out her phone and is messaging her husband, squealing like the middle-schoolers she teaches.
“Drinks only,” I insist. “If things go well, dinner, but I don’t want to promise that at the start.” I’m already dreading this, trying to come up with excuses to get out of it. “And a weeknight,” I add. “That way if things don’t go well, I can claim an early morning meeting the next day.”
Shannon nods and her thumbs fly over her screen again.
Laura keeps trying to sell me on the clubs as Shannon is glued to her phone, waiting for Nate to reply.
Suddenly, her phone chirps. “Nate says William said he’s available tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow?” I practically screech. That’s too soon! I want to say, but then I wonder… “Why is he available?” I challenge, looking for any reason to derail this.
“You’re available,” she says pointedly. I open my mouth to protest and am irritated that she would assume I have nothing going on, but I don’t have a leg to stand on, so promptly shut my mouth. My calendar is, for the most part, wide open, even on weekends. There’s not even anything good on TV. I’ve binged everything on the streaming networks I was interested in.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” I finally say, caving like a soufflé hit with a blast of cold air.
Shannon nods excitedly and just like that, my blind date with William is all arranged for the next night.
THE CLOSER it gets to five-thirty that Thursday evening, I’m seriously regretting my decision to let Shannon set me up, and the prospect of becoming a crazy, cat hoarding spinster seems almost appealing.
When I had gotten back from happy hour last night, I visited the website for the law firm where Nate works and did a little sleuthing. On the ‘Our Team’ tab, I scrolled down and found the name WILLIAM BRANDT and clicked to read his profile. The accompanying photo took my breath away. When Shannon said that William was ‘gor-geous’, it was an understatement. Tanned with sandy blond hair and blue eyes…the man was so good-looking he could probably be on the cover of a magazine. I half wonder if some photoshopping had gone on with the photo.
(The date happens and there’s a request and you get to decide if Penelope does what William asks or not… And there are more choices after that.)
After these choices, there are more! Not too many. Only a total of three or four per path. Among those choices, a few you might encouter “Go on the trip to Europe,” “Go to Ridge’s shop,” or “Let [Penelope’s] insecurities get the better of her.”
Happy Choosing and enjoy the Many Endings! There are 10 in all.
