Page 52 of To All the Men I’ve Killed Before

A text.

From Travis.

I am unbelievably glad you changed your mind, Kitty. Tonight is perfect. Message me the deets.

I stare at the words for a bit, my stomach in knots of anxiety and anticipation.

It’s just a date.

What’s the worst that could happen?

29

Laurel Hardware, West Hollywood, Los Angeles

So the venue for the double date that I’ve been looking forward to as much as a root canal is actually a renovated hardware store. I thought this was quite fitting considering my penchant for duct tape and zip ties. It’s actually pretty cool. The lighting is dim enough to hide my anxiety but golden enough to make me look like I’m glowing. It makes everyone look like they’re glowing, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere with this amount of beautiful people. And that’s really saying something considering the amount of time I’ve spent in places like Cannes, Mykonos and Marbella. The only complaint I have is that the chairs were clearly designed by someone who hates backs. I’m not going to voice this, however, as Antoinette would just use it as another opportunity to mention my ancient age. There’s nothing quite like spending time with a twenty-year-old to make you feel like Methuselah’s maiden aunt.

We’re seated in a back patio area, which is shrouded with evergreen trees dressed in fairy lights. One thing about LA is it loves fairy lights. There’s a slight warm breeze, which carries the smells of cooking food and a heady mix of different perfumes to our table in regular wafts.

Travis is looking almost outrageously handsome. He’s wearing a khaki Henley shirt with black Levi’s and smells of something expensive. I look at him, urging myself to feel something other than a general appreciation for his aesthetic pleasantry.

But there’s nothing.

Not even the ghost of a fanny flutter.

What is wrong with me?

Am I broken?

What if I can never get it up for anyone apart from Charlie for the rest of my life?

I must look panicked because Antoinette kicks me under the table and mouths be cool at me.

I realise I’ve made a mistake.

Not the evening, because I’m actually having an okay time and Travis is good company. But by agreeing to be here with Antoinette and Agnes who are supposed to be keeping things chill.

They are not keeping things chill.

Not at all.

Antoinette has not stopped squealing at the décor. It’s literally like she’s never seen a fairy light before. Meanwhile, Agnes has taken her jacket off to reveal a top that would stop traffic on the King’s Road.

Travis is being very good humoured about our date companions though. Even though Agnes keeps staring at him like he’s something she’s studying.

‘I definitely recognise you,’ she’s saying for about the fifth time. ‘Do you go to Beach Yoga SoCal?’

Travis shakes his head. ‘I just have one of those faces,’ he says. For the fifth time.

She points a finger at him. ‘I’ll figure it out,’ she says. ‘I never forget a face.’

‘Kitty tells me you’re studying at LAAA?’ Travis says in a bid to change the subject from his recognisable face. I suppose it’s not a great selling point for a PI. Agnes is drinking cocktails and has become a little bit full on.

‘I am!’ she says, delighted to talk about herself. ‘Do you want to see my fake crying? I’ve been practising.’

‘No,’ I say at the same time that Antoinette says, ‘Yes!’

Agnes beams at her and then immediately bursts into tears like she’s auditioning for Euphoria. Like actual real tears.