Beach Read meets The Flatshare in this warmly funny and delightfully sharp debut rom-com about a down-on-her-luck young woman who turns an innocent mix-up between a dating app and a roommate app into a new chance at love.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Falon Ballard’s debut novel Lease On Love, which is out now!
After getting passed over for an overdue—and much needed—promotion, Sadie Green is in desperate need of three things: a stiff drink, a new place to live, and a one-night-stand. When one drink turns into one too many, Sadie mixes up a long-ignored dating app for a roommate-finding app and finds herself on the doorstep of Jack Thomas’s gorgeous Brooklyn brownstone. Too bad she’s more attracted to his impressive real estate than she is to the man himself.
Jack, still grieving the unexpected death of his parents, has learned to find comfort in video games and movie marathons instead of friends. So while he doesn’t know just what to make of the vivaciously verbose Sadie, he’s willing to offer her his spare bedroom while she gets back on her feet. And with the rent unbeatably low, Sadie can finally pursue her floristry side hustle full-time. The two are polar opposites, but as Sadie’s presence begins to turn the brownstone into a home, they both start to realize they may have just made the deal of a lifetime.
Chapter Three
I’m most definitely running late for this date, but why the fuck did I match myself with some guy in Brooklyn? Oh yeah, because I happened to be drunk off my ass in Brooklyn at the time. Idiot. I finally manage to find the café and am at least partially mollified because it’s cute as hell. The walls are a robin’s-egg blue and there’s a mural of flowers splashed on the brick.
“All right, Park Slope, you might be worth the hour travel time.” Stepping into the café, I look around for a hot, well-dressed man, because even if I can’t remember what this guy looks like, I most definitely have a type. I stroll to the back of the small space, then back outside to the patio, then back inside, checking all corners of the shop.
“Sadie?”
I hold in the groan as I turn to my left. Drunk me must have been real drunk.
But here we are. I put on a bright smile and cross over to the literal antithesis of every guy I’ve ever dated.
His eyes are hidden by black plastic glasses that probably don’t even contain prescription lenses. Between those and his unruly dark curly hair, only a sliver of his so-pale-he-probably-hasn’t-been-outside-in-months face is visible. He’s wearing ripped jeans and old Converse and, dear god, a Lord of the Rings T-shirt.
And he doesn’t even stand as I make my way over to the table, taking the time to swish my totally first-date-appropriate floral flowy skirt.
“Did you want to grab a drink first?” Still not bothering to stand and greet me, he gestures toward the counter.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” I spin on my heel and sashay to the register, making sure he can fully appreciate how much effort some of us actually put into our appearance for this so-called first date. And I mean, I’m certainly cool with paying for my own coffee, but we could’ve at least had an introductory hug first.
Whatever. I order my iced vanilla latte and take it back to the small marble table. After spending an hour trekking out here, I sure as hell am not going to head home in under five minutes. And I’m even surer as hell not leaving without coffee first.
I slip into the open chair and hold out my hand. Not going to lie, I definitely do not remember this guy’s name, but I’m finding it difficult to care much at this point. “Nice to officially meet you.”
His hand envelops mine, shaking firmly. “It’s Jack, Jack Thomas.”
“Jack.” At least he’s cool enough to not shame me for forgetting. “Sadie Green.”
“Yes, I know.” He reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a file folder. “So why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
My brow furrows as he flips open the folder and pulls a pen from somewhere hidden in the depths of his hair.
Um, what? Is this a date or a job interview?
“What exactly would you like to know, Jack?” I raise one eyebrow—a trick I spent many hours in the mirror perfecting—and take a sip of my coffee.
He doesn’t even look at me. “Let’s start with the usual. Job, hobbies, et cetera.”
I should’ve chosen the cocktails option on the dating app, because despite just yesterday swearing off booze forever, I’m going to need a drink to get through this. “Well, I’m a financial analyst.” The words are out before I realize they’re not exactly the truth. But whatever. They’ll be true again soon enough. “Went to Columbia, yada yada yada. But honestly, that’s like the least interesting thing about me.”
“Your job is the least interesting thing about you?” He scratches a note on whatever paper he has in his folder, finally removing his gaze from said paper to glance at me, though he still doesn’t meet my eyes, focusing instead somewhere behind me.
But whoa. Even without direct eye contact, my breath still catches in my chest. Jack might have very little going for him in the presentation department, but his eyes are low-key magic, the greenest I’ve ever seen on a real human being. The color of moss or emeralds or some other poetic shit like that.
He clears his throat when I fail to answer his question.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I busy myself with another quick sip of coffee, which I just barely manage not to choke on.
“You said your job is the least interesting thing about you?” His attention returns to the file folder.
I force out a fake laugh. “I mean, isn’t that true for most people?” At least those who have jobs. Unlike me.
He frowns. “I sure hope not.”
Okay, Judgy McJudgerton. “Well, what do you do for a living, Jack?”
A red blush creeps over what I can see of his cheeks. “Nothing.” The word comes out barely audible and he rushes out his next words before I have a chance to respond. “Hobbies, then?”
“Working, hanging out with my friends, working more, talking to my plants, and working.” I reach over to the small vase of flowers sitting on the side of the table, rearranging the buds to keep me from reaching over and grabbing that stupid file folder.
“And how would you describe your overall temperament?”
My mouth drops open. I cross my arms, leaning on the table, closing the space between us to less than a foot, ready to let this guy know what’s up, because I’ve had a week and I am so not in the mood for this. “Look. I realize I haven’t been on a date in like far longer than I’d really like to admit, but seriously? Is this what I’ve been missing? Because no thank you. I should’ve just stayed home with my Netflix and my plants, and yeah, I realize how pathetic that makes me sound as I hear those words coming out of my mouth, and yeah, I don’t even care at this point, because that’s how weird this is.”
He leans back in his chair as if he can’t physically stand to share my space. “Whoa. Who said anything about a date?”
“Are you kidding me right now? Am I being punk’d? This cannot be real life.” I start to push my chair back and stand, but Jack places a hand on my forearm. It’s warm, and soft, and his grip is surprisingly gentle.
There’s a beat of silence, during which Jack seems to realize he’s still holding on to my arm. As soon as he does, he drops it like I scalded him.
“Sorry. Don’t leave. I didn’t mean to sound like a dick, I’m just a little confused.” He gestures for me to retake my seat.
I do, but I move it away from the table and cross my arms over my chest. Like the mature adult I am.
“Why’d you think this was a date?” His voice holds no judgment, only curiosity.
Pulling out my phone, I swipe over and click on the app. “I matched with you on a dating app. What else would this be?” I hold up my screen.
He purses his lips as he studies my phone. “That isn’t a dating app.”
“Um, hello? Yes it is. I swiped right, you swiped right, we matched, we set a date.” I turn the phone back to face me, feeling like I’m in some kind of horror movie. And then true horror overtakes me.
ROOMMATEZ is splashed over the top of my screen, right there in bright orange letters.
