Never Too Old To Date: The Perfect Date, #9

By Donna McDonald

Her business is wildly successful, but the rest of her life is just wild. 

 

Sixty may be the new forty, but not for the Honorable Eleanor J. Skyler. She's retiring from the law firm she spent her entire career building. What's wrong with wanting to wear yoga clothes every day and go zip-lining whenever the adventurous mood strikes? Nothing, that's what.

 

She's got no time for dating and drama. She certainly has no time to deal with her senior law partner, Andrew Carson, who has for reasons she can't fathom, decided she's his perfect woman. To say she's confused in an understatement. They've known each other for over twenty years. They knew each other's spouses before they died. Why is Andrew suddenly looking at her legs and telling her she's beautiful? He's barely over fifty. He has the tiny sports car. Why can't Andrew chase a twenty-year-old like every other man having a mid-life crisis?

 

It's bad enough her son bought her a membership to The Perfect Date. She's going through that hot mess to stop her children from nagging about her love life. Just because Greg found sweet Jellica through that dating service doesn't mean Eleanor's going to waste her time going out with grumpy old men. No, thank you. That's never happening. Neither is dating men younger than her shoes. The whole dating situation is ridiculous. Why does she have to date at all?

 

Before she went back to work to rescue Jellica, her life was perfectly calm and peaceful. The hope of returning to that flew out the window when one of Dr. Brentwood Colombo's ex-wives mistook her for his new flame, Georgia Bates. Apparently whiskey can make you appear taller. Who knew? A video of the woman smacking her with her purse has gone viral. Now, she's a social celebrity. If her broken nose is making the news, people need to get a life. 

 

The only consolation to the wildness is Andrew having to stand in line to woo her out of widowhood because her list of potential suitors at The Perfect Date is out of control.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna McDonald
• Release date: Feb 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781950619221

Donna McDonald

Donna McDonald published her first romance novel in March of 2011. Fifty plus novels later, she admits to living her own happily ever after as a full-time author. Her work spans several genres, such as contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction. Humor is the most common element in all her writing. Addicted to making readers laugh, she includes a good dose of romantic comedy in every book.

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Never Too Old To Date

Never Too Old To Date

The Perfect Date, Book 9

Donna McDonald

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Copyright © 2020 by Donna McDonald

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

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Cover by MYST Partners

Edited by MYST Partners and Madison Kamer

Vellum flower icon Created with Vellum

Contents

Acknowledgments

Book Description

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Note From the Author

Excerpt: Next Song I Sing

Excerpt: The Wrong Todd

Other Books By This Author

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my older friends for sharing their stories with me. It makes me happy to validate that it truly is never too late in life to find romance and love.

Dedication

For all of us over 60 who are wondering what the future holds…

We are not our grandparents or parents.

Keep the faith, sisters and brothers. Peace out.

Book Description

Her business is wildly successful, but the rest of her life is just wild.

---

Sixty may be the new forty, but not for the Honorable Eleanor J. Skyler. She's retiring from the law firm she spent her entire career building. What's wrong with wanting to wear yoga clothes every day and go zip-lining whenever the adventurous mood strikes? Nothing, that's what.

---

She's got no time for dating and drama. She certainly has no time to deal with her senior law partner, Andrew Carson, who has for reasons she can't fathom, decided she's his perfect woman. To say she's confused in an understatement. They've known each other for over twenty years. They knew each other's spouses before they died. Why is Andrew suddenly looking at her legs and telling her she's beautiful? He's barely over fifty. He has the tiny sports car. Why can't Andrew chase a twenty-year-old like every other man having a mid-life crisis?

---

It's bad enough her son bought her a membership to The Perfect Date. She's going through that hot mess to stop her children from nagging about her love life. Just because Greg found sweet Jellica through that dating service doesn't mean Eleanor's going to waste her time going out with grumpy old men. No, thank you. That's never happening. Neither is dating men younger than her shoes. The whole dating situation is ridiculous. Why does she have to date at all?

Chapter One

After her assistant left and closed the door, lifelong attorney Eleanor Skyler slipped off her three-inch red heels, pushed her executive chair back, and propped her aching feet on her desk.

Thank goodness for yoga or I wouldn’t be able to lift my legs, she grumbled aloud while she pondered her own tiredness at just two in the afternoon.

A few months ago she’d abandoned her retirement plans and returned to work full time, but today she remembered why she’d turned the law practice she’d built from scratch over to her senior partner, Andrew Carson, to run a few years ago.

Andrew was still doing the lion’s share of the decision-making and thank goodness that was the case. Just catching up and consulting with all the cases exhausted her daily and caused her to crash into bed every evening. Her lack of endurance for the work should have been all the evidence she needed to decide her sixty-plus self shouldn’t be trying to act like she was still thirty.

This week she’d fully realized how much she’d enjoyed the non-working routine she’d developed. Doing a bit of yoga in the morning before she came to the office now was all she’d been able to keep doing from the self-care portion of it.

The work is hard enough to get used to again, but I’m too old to be walking around in three-inch heels every day. Vanity, your name is still Eleanor J. Skyler, she sarcastically informed her tired feet.

She remained exactly where she was when there was an almost musical rapping on her office door. Her tired body just didn’t feel like shifting at the moment. Only one person knocked on her door that way and her tiredness would not surprise him.

Enter at your own risk, she called loudly. Her most senior partner opened the door, walked into the office, and then burst out laughing as he sat in one of the plush chairs facing her desk.

Laugh all you want, but I sorely needed to rest my tired feet—yes, pun intended, she announced with a glare. And you don’t have to tell me that I shouldn’t be parading around in high heels at my age. I’ve already been chewing myself out for my vanity.

Why don’t you just buy some flats, Elle? Andrew asked with a grin. He grinned wider as he leaned around her feet to peer at the rest of her legs where they disappeared under her red skirt. Although, speaking as a male who appreciates all things feminine, you have incredibly nice legs which your heels showcase nicely.

Will you stop with the full-court press? she ordered, frowning at his nickname for her.

No one had ever called her Elle, yet Andrew had been calling her that since she’d returned to work. Maybe she should try calling him Andy and see how he enjoyed having his name butchered.

I’m sure teasing me is highly entertaining for you these days, but I think you need to get a wife for that sort of thing, Mr. Carson. You’ve been a widower as long as I’ve been a widow. The statute of limitations on mourning our spouses closed a long time ago for both of us.

Andrew grinned and nodded. I’m sure it did, but I think I’m too old to date in the conventional sense.

She sighed at the truth. I hear you. I’m too old too. Then her head snapped up. Old? You’re only fifty-three. Men your age are marrying twenty-year-olds and starting families, for goodness sake. We write prenuptial agreements for them all the time. You’re definitely not too old to date.

Andrew motioned around the room with a sweep of his hand. Why would you wish a twenty-year-old on me? This place provides all the drama I can handle. I’m not that much younger than you are, Elle.

And there was that name again. Eleanor sighed in exasperation. She’d hinted every way she could that she didn’t like it.

I’m only saying you’re too young to be alone… and too nice a man, Andrew.

He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. Thank you. I think you’re nice too. In fact, just about everything about you is nice, but at the moment, all I can focus on are your legs.

Eleanor pointed a warning finger. Don’t start that kidding stuff again. I’m not your practice date. I’m too old for that nonsense.

She frowned when Andrew chuckled and tried not to look guilty. When he narrowed his gaze at her, it was all she could do to keep her eyes locked to his. Something about the way he looked at her had changed. Maybe he was more resentful about her return to work than he’d let on, even though she’d done her best to defer to the decision-making role she’d put Andrew in years ago.

We exchanged personal compliments, Elle. You practically informed me that I needed to be dating. Don’t you think it’s reasonable for me to wonder if you were trying to ask me out? For the record, Counselor, if you were testing the waters, my answer would be yes. I’d love to date you.

She pulled her feet off the desk and put them back on the floor as she glared at her emotional tormentor. You know I’m not doing anything like that. Why would you tease me that way, Andrew? You’ve been doing that for weeks now.

Because I’m not teasing. You keep saying I’m teasing, but that’s because you’re wearing blinders. You know I’ve never liked younger women. I prefer someone with life experience. Let’s go to dinner, Elle. You can slip off your heels under the table and put your feet in my lap. I give great foot rubs, or at least I used to. I’m sure it would come back to me. You have pretty feet.

Pretty feet? Eleanor repeated as she put on her glasses and glared at him over them. She leaned both arms on her desk and shook her head. I’ve known you for over twenty-five years and this is not funny. Date someone in her thirties… or her forties. There are plenty of mature women out there.

I know. I’m looking at one of them. Didn’t you tell me Greg bought you a membership to that dating agency he used to find his future wife?

"Yes, and I asked you not to remind me of my foolishness in letting my son blind-side me. Neither he nor Brittany said one word about worrying about my love life until Greg bought me that stupid membership. My accountant son spent nine thousand dollars on it. Nine thousand dollars, Andrew. You’d think Greg would know better than to waste his hard-earned money that way, but apparently not. Now I get lectured all the time about not using it yet."

She didn’t like the way he kept smiling at her. What’s so funny? she demanded.

Tell them you’re dating me. It will make all the lecturing go away.

She snorted and shook her head. No. I’ve never lied to my children and I’m not about to start, even if they deserve it.

Once you go out with me, our dating won’t be a lie. Andrew leaned back in his chair and stared. What are you afraid of, Elle? I’m harmless… well, mostly harmless. At the very least, I’m out of practice. That should slow me down enough not to scare you.

His sudden interest in her as a woman was driving her crazy, but Andrew’s teasing was only the tip of the iceberg she was slipping and sliding across. She thought of her upcoming appointment and felt like groaning. Her son had tricked her into joining a dating database full of desperate singles. The thought of becoming a listing in it was as daunting as her return to the law office every day.

Both decisions officially made her cringe with regret. The need to resolve them had the same effect.

How had her peaceful widow life gotten so turned upside down lately?

Nothing had been the same since she’d taken on legal bully Martin Quartz to stop him from torturing her soon-to-be-daughter-in-law who’d been unfortunate enough to once be married to him. That battle had gone spectacularly well for her, and for Jellica. It had ended in a sound defeat of a long-time legal bully.

From her standpoint, it had a triumphant return to her legal career. Yet when that fight ended, she’d kept coming into the office. Why had she done that? Why hadn’t she stayed home?

The reason she returned eluded her today and her tired feet bore witness to her confusion. She sighed as Andrew tilted his head to study her. She didn’t blame him for being confused when she felt confused herself.

She also wondered how badly her tiredness was etching more lines around her eyes. Her regular facials weren’t erasing them as effectively as they used to.

She frowned as Andrew scooted to the edge of his chair and put one arm on her desk to lean toward her. She saw the aggressive male move for what it was, but she was too tired to play her usual game of proving male posturing didn’t affect her.

Instead, she reached out and poked a finger into Andrew’s expensive coat sleeve until it pressed against his arm. He lifted an eyebrow and held her gaze.

I know what you’re doing, she told him.

Will you explain it to me then? Because it feels like I’m crashing and burning with the only woman who interests me. It’s been a while, but I know I used to be a lot better at the game than this.

You’re not genuinely interested in me. That’s not what this is. You’re merely ready to get back in the dating game and I’m the person you’ve chosen to practice on. Once you start dating for real, the infatuation you’ve developed for me will pass away and never return.

He reached out and brushed her fingers with one of his. It hasn’t happened yet, Elle. Instead, I’ve concluded that I’m perfectly happy looking at you in your short skirts every day. Surely by now you’ve figured out that I’ve been waiting ages for you to stop mourning and start living again.

"Andrew, really…" she complained, and then stopped at seeing his grin.

Hearing his low masculine laugh halted further argument.

Was he teasing her or not? Why couldn’t she tell?

Eleanor could tell she was close to blushing at his comments, which would guarantee that he’d feel like he’d won their debate. She knew Andrew’s intimidation tactics as well as she did her own. They’d worked together for over two decades.

Her primary law partner had been mock flirting with her since she’d returned to work to rescue Jellica, but Eleanor didn’t understand why. The idea that Andrew could be truly interested in her was too unbelievable to take seriously. She was turning sixty-five and was many years his senior. She’d been his boss for most of his law career and she’d been married most of that time. Both of them had been.

Not a single inappropriate word had ever crossed their lips… until last month when she’d noticed Andrew staring at her legs.

She’d jokingly called him out for it only to have him confirming his interest in her. This was just a phase Andrew was going through. That’s what it had to be.

Eleanor pulled off her glasses, tossed them down on her desk, and propped her chin with her fists while she stared at him. Andrew was a very handsome man in his fifties and an excellent attorney. He was a catch by any definition of that term. Any woman with eyes would want to date him, but besides the obvious physical appeal, he was also a decent and honorable man.

But knowing the facts of his masculine appeal didn’t change how she felt about him. She hadn’t felt that kind of interest for a man since before her husband died.

You and I both know that I should never have come back to work. I’m too old to do this every day. It’s not sending a good message to our clients or staff when the head of this law firm needs a nap in the middle of the day.

He lifted one shoulder and held her gaze. So cut back on your hours. I’m getting ready to do that myself. Lyle is ready for more work and I’m ready for more free time. This place practically runs itself. Several of the junior partners have come into their own and need to be stretching their legal wings with more responsibility. Face it, Eleanor Skyler, you’re a successful woman who’s built a thriving law business. You need to enjoy it.

She grunted and rolled her eyes. I’m an older woman who needs to go home and soak her tired feet because she’s too vain to wear flats. As shocking as it is, I miss wearing my yoga clothes every day, Andrew. The energetic woman who created this law firm is long gone.

He frowned as he glared back at her. No, that woman is not gone. She’s merely tired and needs to eat because I know for a fact she didn’t bother with lunch today. Come to dinner with me. If we leave now, we can get the senior discount for eating between four and five. You can tell the restaurant people how old you are if you want to continue feeling sorry for yourself.

Despite her irritation with Andrew’s teasing about her age, she laughed at the senior suggestion coming from someone barely over fifty. You’re a little young to know about senior discounts.

Not true. I take my father out to dinner every Wednesday. He always asks for the discount no matter where we go. He even asked for it at La Belle.

She fought the smile for a while, and then gave into it with a groan to laugh. La Belle was a stuffy, à la carte only type of restaurant. Why in the world had Andrew taken his elderly father there?

Her chuckling rippled as she bent down to slip on the red heels again. I wish I could have seen your waitperson’s face, she repeated, rolling her eyes again. Senior discount—next thing you’ll be telling me is that I should file for social security.

Wouldn’t do you any good. You make too much money from this place, he said with a wave of his hand.

Yes, I do, she confirmed. And because I married an accountant who loved to invest, I will always make too much money. I’m not the typical senior.

I know. Why do you think I’m trying to get you to go out with me?

Eleanor lifted a brow and stared at him. I have no idea. Why are you doing it?

Andrew pulled his arm off the desk and scooted back into the chair. Because I’m interested in you. I’m not interested in anyone else. I took care of the law firm when you left it, but the moment you returned, it was suddenly very clear to me that even work I enjoyed was not enough. All those years you weren’t here? Well, the truth is that I missed you. I’d like a chance to find out why just the sight of you makes me so damn happy to still be alive.

She closed her eyes and swore under her breath. I don’t know what to say to something like that and you know it.

Maybe something clever will come to your mind while we’re eating, he said.

She dropped her gaze, shook her head, and sighed heavily. No. I… can’t…

"Don’t you mean