October 4, 2012
Okay! Last time I talked dating disaster and you indulged me. This month I promised to share my real-life love story, and I’m here to make good!
In the spring of 1999, Margaret, a spinster from Illinois, went on a business trip to California, and fate stepped in….
Her business card was pulled from a hat, and our intrepid heroine was awarded a trip to yet another conference. Yippee. Skippee. That September, she boarded a plane bound for Washington, D.C.
Meanwhile, over six hundred miles away, a dark-eyed man fromLittle Rock, Arkansas took off in the same direction.
The following day, their gazes met across a stuffy conference room in rural Virginia…
Throughout the week-long conference they flirted madly…
There may have been adult beverages consumed…
And a hotly contested game of Pictionary involved…
Some attendees claim they spotted a couple kissing on the roof…
(Wait. What? You thought Pictionary was code for kissing? No, it’s charades on paper. Kissing is kissing. Sheesh. Read more smutty books!)
And when she came up for air, our heroine said, “Oh, sh*t.”
By the end of the week, she knew she had met THE ONE, but Margaret wasn’t exactly ecstatic about it. Falling hard and fast for a stranger seven hundred miles away from home was not part of the plan. It was supposed to be a harmless flirtation. Some laughs, a few stolen kisses, and a little excitement to break up the seminar-induced monotony.
But, he was so sweet. How could any spinster resist those big, bittersweet chocolate eyes? And the drawl! Not the twangy, annoying kind, but the soft, slow slurring of syllables that was just enough to make a northern girl melt into a puddle of goo….
She knew right away she was in trouble. Resistance was futile.
On their wedding day, her hairdresser stood her up. But her groom didn’t.
And they lived happily ever after…so long as he continues to provide Route 44 Diet Cokes, make her laugh daily, and whisper sweet nothings in that sexy southern drawl.
Now it’s your turn to share your love story. It can be your love for Nutella or the nut job you married. Either works. Ready? Go!