Page 4 of Princess Seeks Dragon

“All right, Pops. Sounds good,” I say, giving Ronnie a playful hug as I pass. “But let's not jump the gun. Dinner and the theater? Sure. Wanting for nothing? That's marriage stuff.”

“Angela, you're not getting any younger. You don't want to end up missing a golden opportunity or, worse, marrying the wrong person like I did, just because he's exciting and talks a good game. You should let your father and me help you find a sweet man who will really love you and spoil you like Ronnie spoils me,” my mother purrs, wrapping her arms around Ronnie's neck and running her fingers through his silver hair.

“That's my cue to leave, lovebirds.” But as I walk back to my own room in the gorgeous Bayside house that I now call my home, I can't help but wonder if she's right. It wouldn't be so bad to find the kind of love that my mother and stepfather have. I've never seen people so happy together. Maybe it is old-fashioned, but why shouldn’t it be? Love has been around for thousands of years.

And maybe since I’m single at twenty-six, with no job, no clear career path, and no boyfriend, I should let someone help me. A little.

I drag out my suitcase when I get back to my room. Instead of just packing my normal leggings and sweatshirts, I go to my closet and start browsing through all the designer labels my mother has brought me over the last year. Yes, I have to admit I have enjoyed being pampered and spoiled by Ronnie's bank account. I take out a few of the most flattering (and tightest) dresses that I own.

“Vincenzo, hmm?” Could he be Italian? Italian-American? I hold up a pale pink dress that’s cut lower and slit higher than anything I’d normally wear, wondering if I should pack it. I picture a handsome man with dark hair, a sensuous mouth, and intense dark eyes. I picture a faint Italian accent, even though I know I’m stereotyping left and right. Ronnie says he’s a businessman. Suit and tie. Sharp haircut.

Maybe looking to settle down and spoil someone?

I could still work! Go to school. I could be someone’s girlfriend at the same time. I could even be someone’s wife.

I press the dress to my body and wonder if Vincenzo and I will hit it off.

Do I want us to?

I pick out another dress, a slim little black number by some ungodly expensive designer. Mom says it brings out the caramel notes in my skin and makes my dark hair look more lustrous. I drop the pink dress and hold up the black one.

It gives off “Very Available” vibes.

Well. Youarevery available, Angela.

Maybe it's time I start putting my eye-catching wardrobe to good use...

Chapter Three: Angela

Vincenzo makes allof New York City go silent. The hustle, the bustle, the horns, the lights—they all fade away when he steps out of a black SUV sporting a midnight blue suit, white shirt, and eyes only for me.

Ronnie and my mother hug and gush over him while I hang back, suddenly tongue-tied and shy, the little girl who hugged the wall at the eighth-grade dance all night.

Get it together, Angela. You’ve had a fabulous day out in New York, you're about to go see a sold-out Broadway musical—and there’s a man who looks like a cross between a young, hot George Clooney and the sexy guy who sells perfume that costs more than your car payment staring at you.

“You must be Angela. I’m so glad Ronnie talked you into coming. When he and my father talk business tomorrow, you have to let me give you a tour of the city. Lunch? Shopping? A museum?” Vincenzo’s voice is low and smooth, and there’s a trace of the city in it as he bends his head over my hand.

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