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Chapter 1
Harper
I shouldn’t be at this restaurant.
I mean there’s not like a warrant out for my arrest and being here is gonna get me locked up.
No, I shouldn’t be here of all places because this was one of “our spots”.
One we went to together.
Meeting someone here for a date – especially when I know he only comes here with colleagues – almost feels kind of shitty.
Okay.
Fuck, fine.
Really shitty.
But I wanted somewhere familiar and comfortable – the good crabcakes are just a bonus.
I wanted something – anything – to make what I’m doing feel less…fucking awkward.
Yes.
That’s it.
Less. Fucking. Awkward.
Because being thirty-five, divorced, and meeting someone from a matchmaking service is fucking awkward.
A dating app?
Totally “normal”.
I know a shit ton of people who swear by – and fuck by – them.
Me?
Not so much.
After ten or fifteen attempts that started off by me saying “you don’t look much like your picture” and finished with me pleading “please don’t let me end up the inspiration for a Criminal Minds’ case”, it seemed like the best thing I could do for myself was invest in myself.
And just to be clear that was a selfcare affirmation imposed upon me by my best friend, Natalie – or Nat – Postoak, who swears I have to do more for me than get a pedicure once a month.
She is also how I was led to Carly Coleman, a well renowned matchmaker.
I went into the whole situation thinking – and singing – Mulan, the animated edition, yet it was, thankfully, nothing like that. No lucky crickets. No need to doodle notes on my forearm. Definitely no large, intimidating plump woman to tell me I’m too skinny or not in good shape for popping out babies that I don’t necessarily know that I want. Instead, there were lots of questions – some predictable, some not –, lots of conversations – some light, some surprisingly serious –, and even a face-to-face meeting that eased my woes about spending so much money on something that I swear to God should be natural.
Dating really should be natural.
Flirting really should be natural.
Fucking, for shits sake, really should be natural – even a random one-night stand – and evidently, it is for everyone who is not me including my ex-husband who has gotten engaged and unengaged twice over the past two years.
No shade.
Seriously.
