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“Blind dates are always bad.” I shrugged my coat on over my dress and zipped it up. “They are never good. It’s why I hate them.”
“Didn’t you go home with a guy after a blind date once?”
“I was supposed to, but he neglected to mention it was his mother’s house and she was waiting up for him,” I said dryly.
And boy, was that a treat. There’s nothing like a questioning session from a guy’s mom when all you want is an orgasm.
Although given how his mom wiped sauce from his mouth, that wouldn’t have been forthcoming, either.
“All right, let’s go,” I said begrudgingly. I waited for Holley and Kinsley to get their coats on and follow me outside. Once Holley had locked up, I asked, “How does this work?”
“The blind dating?”
“No, an elevator.”
“Funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, you don’t know you’re going to have dinner with—”
“Oh, my God, I know what blind dating is.” I was going to murder her. “I meant tonight. How does it work tonight?”
“Oh, it’s simple.” Kinsley wrapped her arms around herself, her purse banging against her leg. “When you enter, you’re all given a table number. The guys enter first and take their seats—they’ll already be there—and when we show up, we give the girls their numbers. You go to the corresponding table and your date will be waiting for you. All the courses will be served at the same time.”
“You know this is Bronco’s and not a Gordon Ramsay restaurant, don’t you?”
Holley nudged me with her elbow. “We hired some extra servers. Besides, it’s not like we live in a huge city. We live in White Peak, Say. There are, like, twelve tables.”
“Great. So you’re going to be stalking me the entire night.”
They glanced at each other. “No. It’s Valentine’s,” Kinsley said slowly.
“Oh, so you’re going to dump me on some random guy then go off and enjoy your night? What kind of friends are you?”
“The best friends,” Holley replied. “Given that we cut our nights short to get you a date.”
“No, you cut your night short to get promo for the store and dragged me into your bullshit.”
“That works,” Kinsley muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Look, Say, I know you feel about this. But I promise you haven’t been screwed over. Your match is a good one.”
“Mmph.” That was all I had to say about it.
Look, I wasn’t the best person in the world at choosing a date. I was the first to admit that. But I didn’t have the best confidence in my friends, either.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets like Kinsley just had. A biting wind was rolling in off the mountains, and since Main Street was one huge wind trap, it funneled down and hit us with a vengeance.
It was freaking cold.
We made our way to Bronco’s which, sadly, was within walking distance. That told me Josh and Seb were going to pick Kins and Holley up, so I had to at least hope that my date was gentlemanly enough to walk me to the store so I could get my car.
That was a big hope.
One that, in this town, probably wasn’t going to come to fruition.
If there was such a gent, I wouldn’t be single, would I?
Holley pushed the door to the bar open and held it for me. I’d thank her, but, well. No thanks.
She laughed and followed me inside where Tori was waiting with around fifteen other women of varying ages. “Oh, thank God,” she muttered, grabbing my arm. “What kind of shit is this? Are we being paraded around so we can be bid for?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Kinsley said, taking a clipboard from one of the servers. “Hi, everyone! Everyone, hi!” she finished when everyone quietened down. “Thank you so much for being a part of the Bronco’s Blind Date Night, sponsored by Bookworm’s Books, and something we hope to make at least a yearly thing.”
Tori snorted.
Holley took over. “We’ve worked hard to match you with a date based on the forms you filled out—”
“I didn’t fill out a form,” I grumbled. “I don’t have to do this because of that, right?”
“Shut up, Saylor,” Kinsley retorted.
Everyone laughed.
Assholes.
“Anyway,” Holley said, glancing at me with a look that would kill me if I were a lesser woman. “The guys are already inside and seated at a table with a number on. You’ll be given a ticket with your number in a second, so you just go on in and find your table.”
This was stupid.
So stupid.
“This is stupid,” Tori muttered in my ear.
“Mhmm,” I responded, taking the piece of paper that was shoved at me by Holley. Table thirteen.
Great.
This was already off to a good start, wasn’t it?
That was the table number everyone wanted. Ugh.
I unzipped my coat since it was much warmer in here and stepped into the bar. It was strangely quiet without the humdrum of people, and there was no way this place would have been shut down if it weren’t owned by Hollie’s parents.
