Jenna:Got a date tonight! He’s amazing. And we’re already hitting it off.
Jenna:Will be out of your car soon! *kissy face emoji*
McCarthy:…
Suck it,Bethany. I do know how to manage a difficult man.
Yes, I lied to McCarthy. There was no way he was going to show up to a blind date.
And if maybe I find the love of my life and don’t have to sleep in McCarthy’s car anymore? Even better! Because I mean, yeah, whatamI going to do when I’m on my period?
From Cher, Zephyr and Granny Mavis drop off more of my clothes that afternoon, along with loaves of fresh-baked spelt bread, mead, and goat cheese.
I’m ballin’.
I’m freshly showered and shaved and have my glass of wine as I sit looking cute at the bar. The gay bartender gives me an approving nod and tells me he likes my shoes.
He does side-eye my Stanley cup.
No, I didn’t bring that purse. I took it to a consignment shop. As soon as that thing sells, I’m moving into a hotel.
McCarthy’s right. Nathan never bought me a purse or anything nice. Maybe I should keep it… Maybe this is the last time a guy ever buys me a present.
I will not give in to negative thoughts.
My date’s not here, but that’s by design. McCarthy has to be managed first, then I’ll sort out my housing situation.
The CEO blows into the restaurant. Both my new bartender bestie and I watch appreciatively.
McCarthy pulls up short in front of me and looks me up and down.
I raise my glass at him. “Gotcha!”
“Where is he? I bet he’s one of your exes.” McCarthy grabs my arm. “Just admit it. Admit you were wrong.”
“I believe you actually wanted me to get on my knees and beg?” I sip my wine.
The hostess smiles at me as she heads toward us.
“Here we go!”
McCarthy turns as the hostess leads a pretty young woman with a model-esque walk over to the bar.
“This is Juniper.” I introduce the young woman to McCarthy.
The corners of his mouth curl down slightly.
“She does art therapy for traumatized children.”
“So you just take corporations’ money and don’t actually help children. Bartender.” He signals. “Can I get a scotch, neat?”
“Which bottle, sir?” The bartender starts trying to upsell McCarthy, and McCarthy lets him so he can fully ignore his date.
Great.
Juniper blinks her long lashes at me. She is pretty. She’s what I have always aspired to be.
She also has the mean-girl smile and dismissive look down pat—you know, the one where her eyes flick from your blowout that you did in the work bathroom to your thrifted shoes then back up with a perky jaunt of her head?
