Who Is The Author Of Seatmate?

Clay Nikolaidis: I don't know why everyone's so worried about me. I'm happy being single. H-A-P-P-Y, Happy. I don't understand why my twin sister thought her getting married and having my niece and nephew meant I felt left behind. Least of all, to the point that she decided I needed a dog… It’s a joke. She gave me a corgi and said he’s my new wingman. of a wingman, I've been striking out, and worse, just got evicted from my apartment. Now I'm staying at my cousin's place till I find a new one. This dog owes me. Xenia Rosario: I've loved everything about living in the Big Apple. Everything but my apartment seems to be big here. Shoebox apartment aside, I just became the owner of Tinkerbell, a therapy training dropout. Trust me when I say her name is meant to be ironic. She's bigger than me. This is probably how I got dragged through the park, and if I ever find the owner of that tiny dog who scared Tink, I'm giving them a piece of my mind. This is a standalone story but is the fifth book in the Ravenwood series. Book 1 - The Princess of Ravenwood Book 2 - Chasing Kitsune Book 3 - Expect The Unexpected Book 4 - Out Of My League Book 5 - Man's Best Wingman

I managed to secure a VIP seat for my favorite idol's concert. Just as I followed the staff to my seat and was about to sit down, a woman walked up from behind and plopped herself right into my spot. "This view is the best. I'm taking this seat." I looked at her and felt speechless. "Miss, that's my seat. Please move!" To my surprise, she pulled out a stack of cash from her bag and tossed it at me. "If you're broke, don't try to act like a fan. I'm buying this spot from you. Take the money and get lost!" When I didn't move, she sneered, "I'm the secretary to Mark Lawrence, CEO of Lawrence Group. In Jericha City, everyone knows the Lawrence family. Don't push your luck!" Mark? Wasn't he the man my dad engaged me to? I immediately retrieved my phone and called him. "Your secretary is out here throwing her weight around. She stole my concert seat. You owe me an explanation for this!"

Seven years into dating, Kirk came to pick me up from work in the pouring rain. I opened the door to the front passenger seat, finding the fabric soaked and a single strand of hair stuck to it. Kirk kept both hands on the wheel, not even glancing at me. “I dropped an intern from the project department off at home. She was drenched since she didn’t have an umbrella with her.” I sat on the damp seat, my heart sinking. “Kirk, you, of all people, should know I have anxiety about certain things.” “It’s just a seat. She’s younger and more interesting than you. Heck, she looks prettier even when she’s drenched. “I’ve been with her, and honestly, she’s a lot more fun. “I’ll still propose to you, but you need to stay oblivious for us to carry on.” The rain battered the windows, yet it was the tension inside the car that left me struggling to breathe.

I had a habit. Whenever I had a meal, watched a movie, or took a cab ride, I would always save an empty seat next to me. I believed that Theo Anderson would suddenly appear in the city I lived in to surprise me. However, throughout our long-distance relationship for the past three years, he never visited me. Not even once. I hence prepared our wedding by myself, and I fell sick because of that. My hands were trembling when I sent him a text message. [I’m having a high fever, and I don’t have any medicine at home.] Half an hour later, he responded. [So? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to grow wings and fly over to your place with medicine? I’m still reviewing a proposal. You should just contact the delivery services.] I could not even lift my fingers because of the fever, so I slowly drifted into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I saw my best friend, Eleanor Reid, with teary eyes. She passed a glass of water and a pill to me. “You’re too patient with him, that’s why he’s bullying you. If it were me, I would’ve already thrown a fit.” Two weeks later, Eleanor also had a high fever, so I immediately wanted to rush over to take care of her. However, she posted a photo online, and there was a man’s hand holding a spoon in the photo. [I’m sick, but thankfully there is a knight in shining armor who flew over 500 miles to take care of me.] I recognized that hand. Theo was wearing a watch that I had bought him after saving up for six months. I suddenly understood that it was not because he was busy that he could not be by my side. It was because he did not want to come over. Since that was the case, I no longer had the need to save an empty seat for him anymore.

On the way to the hospital in my daughter's car, my legs felt cramped, so I adjusted the angle of the passenger seat. A second later, I heard a soft snap from beneath the seat. A toothpick had broken. I jumped in fright as my daughter, Marissa Langford, slammed on the brakes, her face turning pale. "Why would you touch that? Tyler set that seat to a specific position on purpose. He uses it to check whether another man has been sitting in the passenger seat. How am I supposed to explain this now?" Realizing I'd caused trouble for her marriage, I immediately sent Tyler Ashford, my son-in-law, an apology. Hours passed without a reply. Eventually, all I received was a cold laughing emoji. Thinking Tyler was upset, I bought two expensive bottles of wine and personally went over to smooth things over. However, when Marissa opened the car door, I finally saw what was covering the passenger seat. It was a custom seat cover. Embroidered across it in glaring letters were the words: "Tyler's Exclusive Seat. No Old Bastards or Dogs Allowed". My vision went black with rage. Seeing me standing there without moving, Marissa frowned impatiently. "Tyler's just immature. Are you really going to be this petty and hold it against him?" I laughed. "You're right. I am petty. That's why the $20,000 I give you every month ends today. From now on, you're on your own."

Early in the morning, I'm doubled over with unbearable stomach pain, so I ask my wife, Mandy Sanchez, to drive me to the hospital. Downstairs, just as I reach for the passenger door, she presses her hand against it, stopping me before I can pull it open. "The passenger seat is Sam's. No one else sits there," she declares. I just stare at her, wondering if I heard her right. I paid 300,000 dollars for this car. And now she's telling me I can't ride shotgun because that seat is reserved for another man? Mandy pulls open the back door and shoves me inside. "What difference does it make where you sit? Your stomach hurts, right? Let me just get you to the hospital." Somehow, the cramping in my gut doesn't feel as sharp anymore. No amount of physical pain can match the ache in my heart. The moment we pull up to the hospital, Mandy gets a call from her childhood best friend, Samuel Carter. She walks away, leaving me behind without a single backward glance. As I watch her go, I suddenly come to my senses.