“No way.”
“To tell me that it wasn’t poisoned.”
Her face contorted in horrified disbelief. “You’re making that up.”
“I wish I were. That was his idea of charming.”
Gina shuddered. “Oh my God. Was he wearing one of those plaid shirts that look like a dish towel?”
“Yes! I’m pretty sure he thought it was festive because it was red, sort of. And I swear he had an unusual amount of dirt under his nails.”
She groaned so hard that I half expected her to throw her wineglass. “He didn’t.”
“He did.” I buried my face in a washcloth. “I feel grimy.”
Gina leaned over and dramatically sniffed the air above me. “You smell like a holistic skin-care store threw up in here, so we’re making progress.”
She slid back down, resting her head against her hand on the edge of the tub. “All right, so tonight was a mess, but the next one will be better.”
I tilted my head to look at her. “You think?”
“I know it.”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Maybe I should just give up here and now.”
“Nah.” She raised her glass and tapped it gently against the side of the tub. “You already have the next one planned for tomorrow, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“Look at you. Getting out of your comfort zone. You can’t give up now,” encouraged Gina. “To the next. May he have clean fingernails and a basic understanding of manners.”
“I’ll take that. And maybe a Jingle Bell Martini.”
“A what?”
I forgot I never told her about the details of my and Josh’s practice date.
I shook my head. “I’m becoming delusional.”
“And your standards are dropping fast.”
“Just give me a man who doesn’t treat dating like a group project on a deadline.”
“That’s fair.”
I dropped deeper into the hot water until my shoulders floated. “Brighten my day then. Please. Tell me about your life. What’s happening with this holiday show you’ve been buzzing about? I haven’t had any new updates in a while.”
Her eyes lit up instantly, her lips quirking around the rim of her glass. “The artist came in last night to start setting up. It’s going to be all about light. There will be reflections, projections, mirrored panels, everything. Completely immersive.”
“Sounds brilliant.”
“That’s literally the title!” she squealed, nearly sloshing her drink into the tub with me. “Brilliance.”
fourteen
After last night’sdisaster of a date, for some reason, date number five felt like date five hundred. At some point in the past few hours, a new sort of understanding that I was now a seasoned blind-date veteran sank in.
I was definitely getting less nervous each time I set up a new one. And more excited that I was officially well over the halfway point of this dating experiment I had let myself be conned into.
