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“So is there an actual woman meeting me here or are you and I just hanging out tonight?” I ask once I’ve settled into a seat at the bar.
Heidi grins and points toward the entrance to where a young Black woman is walking towards us. I don’t want to notice it, but she’s gorgeous.
“One of my coworkers,” she says as the woman approaches.
“Hi,” she says and to my surprise she hugs me hello. “I’m Jada.”
“Carter,” I say. “Heidi’s –”
“Brother,” we both finish at the same time.
I grin. “Right. Can I get you something to drink? I won’t presume to suggest anything since you clearly know the drinks here better than I do.”
She laughs a little at my poor attempt at humor. “Can I get a Manhattan, hon?” she asks Heidi, then looks at me as if wondering what I’ll order.
I smile. “I’ll have the same, since Jada here is the expert.”
Heidi smiles and goes to make our drinks, leaving us to get to know each other.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I say. I’m making conversation, but I’m not sure how serious this date is. “What makes you happy?”
Jada gives me a funny look for a second. “I almost thought you were going to ask me about my work,” she says, and I shake my head and chuckle.
“I’ve been on enough dates to know no one likes being asked that,” I reply, thinking back to my last one. “And anyway, I’m pretty sure my job is the least interesting thing about me.”
Jada grins. “Good answer,” she says. “To be honest though, I don’t know if I can answer your question. I think I’m still figuring out what makes me happy.”
“To be honest, I think that’s more interesting than anything else you could have said,” I tell her.
Jada smiles at me and even though I know this date won’t go anywhere, it’s still the best interaction I’ve had with a woman in weeks.
“Here you go,” says Heidi, coming back with the cocktails. “Two Manhattans.”
“Cheers,” I say, raising my glass to Jada, and she returns the toast.
“Oh, let me snap a photo to keep Mom happy,” Heidi says, pulling out her phone.
Jada and I instinctively lean in to smile for the camera, and I feel her long braids brush my arm. When the photos are done, Jada leans over the bar a little and touches Heidi’s hand.
“Could you send that to me, too?” she asks.
“Sure,” Heidi says without batting an eyelid, but I’m a little surprised.
For a second I’m afraid Jada doesn’t know my situation with Mom and that I’m accidentally leading her on, but when she turns back to me she must see the look on my face.
“Oh, it’s for my parents,” she explains. “Heidi told me about your mom, and my parents kind of have the same obsession. They won’t lay off trying to find me a husband and at least coming out tonight was better than most of the dates they force me to go on. Hopefully, this’ll keep them off my case for a while.”
So that explains it. Simple enough.
“Well, I guess it’s nice not to be the only one avoiding marriage,” I say before taking a sip of my drink. “And if we can help each other out with this fake date, then all the better.”
Jada laughs, and we chat a little more about our respective situations. It’s refreshing somehow, and I find myself enjoying the conversation even without being forced to be here.
“Do you want to get some dinner?” I ask when our drinks are done. “My treat, of course.”
“Definitely,” she says with a smile. “This Manhattan is going right to my head.”
I grin and suggest the Redwoods Dining Room – the restaurant right upstairs at this fancy resort. It’s not until we’re already seated that I realize that might have been a bad move.
