“I don’t know, at a bar, online, dog park, grocery store?” She grabbed one of my fries and scarfed it down. “Why?”
“Just curious. Thinking about what to do, to meet a nice guy.”
“Online is the easiest.” She grinned. “Well, not easy, but less anxiety-inducing.”
“Is that how you met your guy?”
“No.” She shook her head and took another fry.
“Oh.” I waited for her to tell me more, but she didn’t.
“Let me tell you one thing. A good piece of advice. Always look your best when you want to meet a guy. Do your hair. Do your makeup. Wear a nice, body-hugging outfit. Accentuate your best features.” She stared at me. “So in your case, wear a top with a plunging neckline and show off your boobs, girl.”
“I’m not exposing my boobs.” My voice rose and an older lady at the table next to us frowned at me.
“You don’t need to have them popping out.” She grinned. “Just wear a top to let a man know what you’re working with.”
“Uh huh.”
“Trust me, it works. Too many women go on about being natural in no makeup and comfortable clothes. They don’t have men, or they have farmers.”
“Farmers?” I asked confused.
“Farmers, garbage men, whatever. The point is you need to catch a man. And you catch a man looking your best. Once you have him, you can do whatever. After the first six months, he’s not even going to notice. But in the beginning . . . in the beginning you need to give him something to rave about to his friends.”
“Rave about?”
“You know, ‘my girl’s booty so big,’ that sort of thing.” Her tone dropped to a drawl.
“My girl’s booty?” I repeated and laughed. “Who says that?”
“You know what I mean. Whatever the guy likes, if it’s big boobs, a big butt, a pretty face, long silky hair, pretty manicured toes.”
“Toes?”
“Lots of guys have foot fetishes. Get a pedicure weekly and keep up the polish.”
“I can’t afford to get a pedicure weekly.”
“Well, that’s a group of guys you’ll never get then.”
“Who?”
“The foot fetish guys.”
“I don’t want a foot fetish guy.”
“That’s good then, because you won’t be getting him.”
“Rosie!” I rolled my eyes. “I think I get it, thank you.”
“Well, let me know when you want to start dating. I can help fix you up.”
“Okay.” I nodded and looked down. I felt ashamed of myself for not being honest with her. The truth was that I wasn’t looking to date. Not for love. I just needed a way to catch David Bradley’s eye. If I could become his girlfriend, I might have an easier time gaining more information about Bradley Inc. The only problem was that I had no idea how to meet him, let alone attract him. He was a rich, handsome man and normally not in my league. However, right now I needed to put myself into his league. I groaned inwardly as I realized that meant I was going to have to do what Rosie had said. I was going to have to dress as sexy as possible and I was going to have to let him know that I was interested. I was horrible at flirting, but I couldn’t let my self-esteem issues get in the way.
“Bianca, you okay?” Rosie’s voice sounded concerned as I looked up at her.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“It’s okay. After my father died, all I could think about was our time together as well. His memory will never fade, but it will get easier.”
“Thanks.” I reached over and squeezed her hand, trying to stop the red flush of guilt from spreading across my face. I didn’t want to tell Rosie that I hadn’t been thinking about my dad. I’d been thinking about how to meet a guy that might hold the secrets to my mother’s death and my father’s past.
*
I stared at the article I’d read in the Wall Street Journal two weeks ago and smiled to myself. The perfect opportunity had presented itself to me. There was going to be a shareholders’ meeting at Bradley, Inc.’s headquarters in the financial district in a couple of days. This would be the perfect time to meet David Bradley and to lay eyes on Mattias Bradley. The two Bradley brothers were my key to more information. They were the reason I’d called Larry and asked him how many shares of Bradley Inc. stock I’d need to get into the upcoming shareholders meeting. He’d been surprised by my question and even more confused when I’d asked him to buy me some. He’d told me that it was too late for me to buy the stocks and gain access, but he could get me a proxy to go to the meeting with his shares. I’d been surprised to find out that he had shares in Bradley, Inc., but I was happy that I hadn’t had to spend my last dollars just to gain access. I placed the newspaper down on the table next to the sheet of paper that had arrived by courier earlier in the afternoon. It was the official proxy statement that would allow me to attend the shareholders’ meeting in a few days.