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“We agreed to meet at Pecorino. She likes Italian and suggested the place.”
“I know Pecorino. It’s great.”
“But did you know there are two of them?”
Fuckme.“Are you serious?” I palm my forehead and thank my lucky stars there isn’t a brick wall nearby to smash my head into.
Breathe. Do not lose your shit. Remember, this is your job.
“In my defense, I had no idea until I waited for almost an hour and then gave up. We didn’t exchange phone numbers, only email, and I didn’t think of emailing her until I got home. By then, it was really late.”
How stupid can a man be? Not double-checking the address of a restaurant he’s never been to before to go on a date with a woman he’s never met before.Honestly. Then, a thought dawns on me.
“Did you do that on purpose?” I all but hiss at him, any promise to myself to remain professional out the window. This guy’s dick move is going to cost me my employment. Not only is he going to blow his own chances, he’s also going to piss off innocent women who are genuinely trying to find a decent partner. And get me into trouble in the process.
“No!” he says in an exasperated tone. “I was distracted at work, and when I looked it up, I didn’t notice there were two locations, and I didn’t confirm the address with her. I felt terrible. Honestly. I offered to try taking her out again in my email, but in her reply, she said she met someone when she was waiting, and she’s going on another date with him. So, I guess the night wasn’t a total washout for her.”
That makes me feel slightly better, but still, she’s a client, or was a client, and Dean’s stupidity, is, by extension, my own. He needs much closer supervision than I thought.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. I can’t help it if she jumped on the next guy who came along!”
Oh, no, he didn’t. He didn’t just say that.My blood starts to boil.
“Jumped on him, did you say? Well, good on her. She canjumpon whoever she wants whenever she wants, without judgment from you. The guy who didn’t even bother to turn up! You know, Dean, I think you need a one-on-one dating class.”
”Is that so?” he scoffs, but it’s all bravado. I hear him swallow nervously.
“Yes! Some up-to-date information about dating, women’s expectations, and perhaps a refresher in modern feminism. Bring you into the correct millennium.” I know I’m working myself into a lather, but I’m livid.
Say ‘no,’ Dean, I dare you. Tell me you’re an ally. Tell me you know all about what women want.
I’m met with silence.
Good.
“We’ll do this tonight so that I can fit in your second date on Saturday night,” I grind out. “Pick me up at six. I’ll tell you the address of my building and then send it in a text. Please double-check it.”
He snorts a laugh.
“I’m glad you find this amusing, Dean. My income is on the line. You might be happy screwing up your own life, but I’m not going down like this. Tonight will be a dry run of your next date. You clearly need practice.” And an attitude readjustment. A big one. He’s quiet for a moment, and I sense something is brewing. Yes, I’m being blunt, but that doesn’t mean I’m insensitive.
“So does this dry run involve everything that happens on a date?” His voice is lower, and there’s no trace of laughter.
“What do you mean? Of course. I’m not leaving anything to chance for tomorrow night.”
“So, you’ll expect me to open doors, hold your hand, flirt, give you a goodnight kiss, maybe even—”
“What? No!” I fume. The highhanded ness of this guy. Did he think he was going to get his hands onme on a quasi-date. A handjob in the bathroom? A blowjob in the parking lot? A quick fuck against the side of his car?God what’s wrong with me as well?
I clear my throat. “I’ll be instructing you on first-date etiquette, topics of conversation, and what your date’s expectations are likely to be. No personal contact is required. I thought I could make a match for you based on the information I had, and I stand by Melinda being an excellent pick. I’m not completely sure the problem lies with
her. Since you’re a VIP client, I’m going to go the extra mile.” Have I gone too far? Or not far enough?
“I’m flattered you think I’m such a basket case.”Oh, please. What a crybaby.
“Well, last night sort of speaks for itself. Melinda sounds like she managed to have a good date. You do the math.”Ha! Take that.
“There’s no issue with my mathematical ability. My problem is that you’re now forcing me to go on a date where there’ll be no touching, no kissing, no nothing, and I can look forward to a lecture on dating etiquette. Yeah, sounds amazing. Sign me up.” Dean sighs, sounding resigned.
