# Chapter 18: The Mixer, the Merlot, and the Man Who Won’t Follow the Rules
Hello, lovely listeners and fellow romance addicts! Welcome back to *Searching For Someday*. I’m so glad you’re here, because Chapter 18 is one of those deliciously messy scenes where matchmaking, chemistry, and professional boundaries all collide in the same room—and nobody walks away unscathed. If you thought Kate was in control, think again. Slade Montgomery is about to prove that being a divorce lawyer means he knows exactly how to get under someone’s skin.
The chapter opens with Kate laying down the rules for Slade’s mixer. This is her party, her professional turf, and she wants him to feel comfortable while meeting each woman privately before deciding who he bonded with. Slade, of course, can’t resist being a little irreverent. He bites into a mini crab cake, groans over how good it is, and jokes that he feels like *The Bachelor*. Kate is not amused. She reminds him these women have taken time out of their lives to meet him, and he finally apologizes—though not before asking for another piece of bruschetta. Kate refuses. No more distractions. It’s time to meet Hannah, Emma, Sarah, and Ann.
Kate has chosen each woman carefully. They have the look Slade seems to require, steady careers, and qualities he claims to admire. But it’s Hannah who stands out to Kate. With dark good looks, a curvy body, and a sweet personality, Hannah seems like the whole package. She’s an accountant, which brings a seriousness Slade should respect, and she comes from an impressive family—her father is a well-known family court judge, her mother an elementary school teacher. Kate watches the conversation flow easily between Slade and Hannah and feels a surge of satisfaction. She retreats to the bar to give them privacy, nibbling cocktail shrimp and watching Slade work the room.
And what a room it is when Slade is in it. Kate notices everything: the breadth of his shoulders, the grace with which he moves, the piercing gaze, the charming smile. But it’s more than that. His aura pulses with sexual energy, a physical awareness that no woman seems immune to. Including Kate. She admits it to herself with a glass of Merlot in hand. She’d be more worried if she *didn’t* lust after him. At least her hormones are alive and kicking. She just needs to redirect them. Good luck with that, Kate.
Then Genevieve arrives—beautifully tousled in jeans, a peach sweater, and a loose topknot. Kate hugs her, surprised and happy. Gen was supposed to be working an extra shift, but she escaped and decided to see her friends before an upcoming all-nighter. They joke about hospital romance and *Grey’s Anatomy*, but Gen insists she uses the on-call room for sleep, not sex. When Gen asks who the gorgeous man is, Kate explains Slade is her new client. Gen teases that he’s definitely into the tall brunette, then bemoans her own lack of height genes. Kate reassures her she’s petite and gorgeous, not a Hobbit. The conversation shifts to David, Gen’s boyfriend. Gen says things are going great, but she doesn’t want to jinx it. She’s still in residency, not ready for marriage, just experimenting. Kate mentions Wolfe, Gen’s close friend and ambitious hotel man, who’s buried in work for the new opening of Purity. The two women bond over being workaholics—though Gen points out Kate isn’t exactly painting the town red either. Kate ignores that astute observation, because Slade has just disengaged from Hannah and is heading toward the bar with purpose burning in his gaze. Kate’s panties dampen. Damn him.
Gen wisely disappears. Slade closes the distance. Kate asks how it’s going, and he studies her face, focusing on her freshly wet lips as if he wants to kiss the moisture away. She asks who he connected with. He says, “No one.” Kate is confused. He clarifies that they’re all nice, attractive, funny—he’s impressed with her picks—but he didn’t connect with anyone. Kate offers another mixer. He says no, they’re good. Irritation itches at her. She asks who he’d like to pick for his date. He reaches around her, scoops up a glass of Merlot, and says, “You pick.”
A strange roaring echoes in Kate’s ears. She can’t believe he wants her to choose his date. He shrugs, more interested in the wine and food than the women. He trusts her professional judgment. She quickly says, “Hannah Easton.” He agrees, calls her smoking and nice, and tells Kate to set it up. Then he glances at the empty table and mourns the crab cakes. Kate feels like a cheap broker instead of a skilled matchmaker. She challenges him: is he really committing to this process? He doesn’t seem enthusiastic. Slade says he’s open, then studies her with an intensity that peels away her lying exterior and exposes her bodily truth. His scent—tobacco, spice, grapefruit—hits her like a Godiva factory. She thinks of the bonding scent from *The Black Dagger Brotherhood* and locks her knees to keep from leaning forward and biting his neck. He teases that she seems ready to yank his membership at any misstep. She says she doesn’t trust him. He leans in and says, “I’m a divorce lawyer and a man who’s attracted to you. You’d be crazy to trust me.”
His outrageous honesty steals her smart-ass answer. She agrees to set up the date with Hannah, lays down ground rules—no private charter planes or Vegas trips, keep it simple and elegant—and he mock-salutes her. She tries to slide off the stool, but her boot heel hooks in the ring. Slade reaches out to help, and his hand burns into her upper arm through the thin silk of her blouse. Her body explodes in a riot of messiness. She pushes him away frantically, the stool teeters, and she crashes to the floor.
Slade is shocked. He tries to help her up, but she scoots back, hands in front of her, stuttering, “D-d-don’t touch me. I-I-I’m wearing f-f-fur.” He’s baffled, pointing out it’s more like eel skin giving off electrical currents. He demands to help her up. Kate scrambles to her feet, her tongue twisting, her past limitations roaring before her. She thanks him, apologizes, closes her eyes, and pictures a blank white screen. Peace. Harmony. She breathes, relaxing her muscles and lips, returning to the safe place she created to trust herself and speak again. When she opens her eyes, her pulse has steadied. She apologizes for the scene and suggests they say good-bye to their guests. Slade says, “Not yet.”
And that’s where Chapter 18 leaves us—hanging on two words, a bruised ego, and a connection neither of them is ready to name.
**Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating:** Wow. This chapter crackles with rom-com banter and raw vulnerability. The mixer setting is glamorous and intimate, but the real fireworks happen at the bar. Slade asking Kate to pick his date is infuriating, revealing, and oddly romantic—he’s not really interested in Hannah; he’s interested in the woman telling him who to choose. Kate’s fall and stutter are mortifying, but they also expose a deep wound. The way Slade sees through her, while still respecting her panic, makes him more than a cocky lawyer. He’s dangerous because he’s honest. The ending is a perfect cliffhanger. Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4.8 / 5 Stars
**Next Chapter Prediction:** Slade won’t let Kate run. “Not yet” means he’s about to press her about what just happened—and probably about why she’s so determined to pair him with someone else. I predict he’ll refuse to simply move forward with Hannah, or he’ll use the date as a way to keep Kate close. Kate will try to hide behind professionalism, but her body and her past have already betrayed her. We may finally learn more about the speech difficulties she’s overcome, and Slade—divorce lawyer, cynic, and shameless flirt—might surprise her with patience. Expect a confrontation, a near-kiss, and a choice that could blow up Kinnections’ most important rule: never fall for the client.
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