Friends & Fortune Cookies: A Sudden Falls Romance Read Online Free Page A

except on those few occasions where I’d lost my head. I genuinely liked being in his company. He was funny, smart, kind, giving, and fairly easy on the eyes.
    I tuned back into the meeting long enough to realize my boss was still on a rant.
    George Barkett was a windbag, which frequently caused me to abandon my good sense and tune him out within twenty minutes of any given meeting. As he did most weeks, he paced the length of the room, pontificating on the merits or detriments of.... something while I doodled in my notebook.
    He expounded on the diatribe inspired by his daughter’s forays into online dating, as the lecture had advanced to the evil effects of modern technology on cultural traditions.
    “Ms. Mendoza. Do you find the subject of Internet dating boring?” George’s voice next to my ear cut through my thoughts.
    What?! Oh, crap! Not again. I cleared my throat, grasping at something intelligent to say. “Umm. On the contrary, I think, if handled properly, it could be quite an interesting topic.”
    “You think so, do you? That’s what I like. A volunteer. Plan to devote your next eight columns to the topic of modern dating practices.” He waved his hand. “I want Internet dating services, that speed-dating thing, and whatever the hell ‘Tinder’ is.” You’re single. Get me some firsthand experience. I don’t want to read another collection of interviews.”
    I thought for a second that I might embarrass myself and hurl all over his shoes. It would have served him right. I managed to rein in my impulse to upchuck as he moved onto his next victim. My face flamed as I spent the rest of the meeting taking copious notes and avoiding the knowing eyes of my coworkers.
    A half an hour later, the meeting finally wound down. Grabbing my notebook, I headed for my office before being waylaid by any other unwanted assignments.
    What did I know about dating in the age of technology? Nothing. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I dropped my head to the desktop and made a sound of frustration. What did I know about dating period? A look at my track record would prove that.
    High School: Paul Artson, captain of the chess team, though a lot cuter than one might imagine. Good kisser, too. Dumped me the day before prom so I went with Joe. Don’t go there!
    College: I met Chris Evans by junior year. I’m not entirely sure what happened there. I thought he was “The One” for a while, but alas...
    Post-Chris: A long period of time where Joe was my only companion, at least when he was close by. Then Joe went to Afghanistan, and I kind of fell apart or at least realized how lonely I was. So I let a couple of friends fix me up on a few boring dates. Then I met Mike, who had a lot more to recommend him before Dystopia got her mitts on him and I realized he was a spineless ninny.
    I didn’t want to know about modern dating. I didn’t want to even think about modern dating. How could they ask this of me?
    Still wallowing in my woe, I didn’t notice the columns editor, David White, until he knocked on the frame of my open door. “I should have warned you,” he said in his usual cryptic manner.
    “About what?”
    “Barkett planned for you to do the dating articles from the beginning.”
    I didn’t know why I was surprised. “So he simply took advantage of my moment of inattention to make me look like an idiot?”
    “Yup.”
    “Sadistic son of a…”
    “Easy there, Tiger,” Dave interrupted, grinning. “It’s for a good reason.”
    I narrowed my eyes at him. “What could that possibly be?”
    “The head honchos have been looking at your work and really like what they’re seeing.”
    Dave paused, obviously drawing the moment out for dramatic effect. I resisted the urge to reach up and choke him for torturing me.
    “And...?” I prompted, finally losing the battle with patience.
    “It’s likely they’ll be carried by the Enquirer ,” he said.
    Since that would more than double my readership, that was definitely