Page 3

Any good?

Me:

TBD. Standby.

Izzy and I have always had a system for getting out of bad dates, and I just have this sneaking suspicion that I’m going to need to use it tonight. Troy seems like an all right guy, I guess, but my not wanting to be here is making me less patient than usual. I back out of the parking spot and start driving toward the restaurant, my GPS guiding the way as I think about the last good date I had.

My love life has pretty much been on hold lately. I had a few “boyfriends” in high school and college but we were just having fun, and no one really hung around for long. Then, just before graduation, I met Adam. He’d been in town to see a few friends graduate and approached me in the coffee shop on campus and asked me out. Adam was so charming, and I was surprised by how quickly I fell for him. A year later, we were moving in together, and I saw us getting married someday. Everything wasn’t perfect but I loved our life together, and I thought we were going somewhere; that we were growing together. Then two years ago, I came home early one day and walked in on him screwing the eighteen-year-old neighbor. I just stood there and watched them for a minute because I couldn’t wrap my brain around what I was seeing. All the dreams that I had built in my head came crashing down around me. I moved all my stuff out that night, and Izzy let me stay with her until I was able to buy my house.

I was completely shattered, broken in a way that I didn’t even recognize myself, and I promised that I would never let that happen again. And even though I’ve moved on with my life, I’ve stuck to my “no dating” policy. It drives Izzy up a wall because she’s going out with someone new every weekend but I don’t want to force something that should be natural. Izzy likes to play and have fun but I’m a relationship girl, and the way she lives her life never really appealed to me. She always wants to set me up with some guy she knows, and I love that girl but it drives me crazy.

Pulling to a stop, I’m drawn out of my thoughts, and I sigh as I turn off the car and grab my phone before stepping out. Troy waves at me from the door, and I smile, offering him a small wave as I shut the door and lock it. I’ve got this, I remind myself for what feels like the tenth time tonight and make my way to the door. When I reach him, he slips an arm around my back and guides me inside to the hostess stand. She smiles sweetly at us and grabs two menus before leading us to a table in the back. As we sit down, she sets a menu in front of each of us and fills up our water glasses before leaving.

“So, what is it that you do again?” he asks, pulling my attention away from the menu, and my growling stomach.

“I’m a reporter at the newspaper.”

“Oh, man, I think I would go crazy if I had to sit at a desk all day long.”

I nod, taking a sip of the water as I try to sneak peeks at the menu without being rude. “Yeah, it can make you a little stir crazy at times but I get up and go get water or something to stretch my legs. Plus, I’m out in the field a lot.”

“I could give you some easy workouts you can do around your desk, if you want.”

I picture standing up in the sea of cubicles and trying to do exercise moves as all the other reporters look on, and it makes me laugh. “No. Thank you, though.”

He nods again and looks off to the side of our table as an awkward silence falls over us. Thankfully, the waiter appears so we don’t suffer through it for long.

“Good evening. My name is Henry, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you folks started off with an appetizer?”

I smile up at Henry and start to tell him that I’d love some mozzarella sticks when Troy interrupts me.

“We’ll just take two chef salads, please.”

I blink in shock, and poor Henry looks to me for confirmation. When I try to tell him that I don’t want the salad, Troy interrupts me again.

“That’ll be all. Thank you.” His voice is hard like he’s angry or something, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. Also, I don’t really care anymore. I haven’t even known this guy for an hour, and he’s already hugged me and ordered for me like he knows me. And a salad? Seriously? Salad is the food before the food. Henry scurries off, and I turn to Troy, doing my best to remain calm.

It’s not a big deal.

I can just eat real food when I get home.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” Troy says, and I take another deep breath, feeling like my face is turning bright red from the anger simmering just under the surface. Just what the hell does he mean by that?

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, Babe. If you stuck to salad and let me train you, you would be a knockout. You probably only need to lose five to ten pounds.”

An explosion of anger rocks through me, and I do my best to not shoot a death glare at him. I’m not a big girl but I do have curves and up until this moment, I never thought that was a bad thing. Who the hell does he think he is and what happened to the sad guy that I left at the obstacle course? It’s like he swapped bodies with someone. I take a drink of the water in front of me, and my hand shakes. I want to say something to him but I’m honestly so shocked that I can’t find the words. He picks up on my anger though and holds his hands up.

“Hey, don’t get mad. I’m just saying that if we worked a little bit of weight off you, you’d be a ten.”

He winks, and I feel like I’m going to explode. I have to keep reminding myself that prison yard orange is so not my fucking color as I pull my phone out of my purse and fire off a text to Izzy.

Me:

911. Save me.

“Like how often a week do you eat junk food? I bet if you cleared that shit out of your diet, it would help a lot.”