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I had to admit, the Neapolitan ice cream idea was a convenient way to know who I had to talk to and who I could ignore. We exchanged greetings with some way overenthusiastic group members. Then Denver guided me over to Hector with a touch to the small of my back. I almost slapped his hand away on instinct, until I remembered that I was supposed to be his date. Touching would have to be temporarily allowed. And I’d have to be temporarily not affected by it. If I could make that permanently unaffected somehow, everything would be fan-flipping-tastic.
Denver and Hector were way too excited to see each other, exchanging a fist bump/shoulder bump combination that guys were so fond of. I introduced myself to Hector’s date, a girl named Jennifer. No fist bump required. She did most of the talking, which was fine by me.
In addition to my normal social anxiety, I was so afraid of saying the wrong thing or messing up my backstory that I didn’t say much at all. It was strange to realize the gaping difference between privacy and secrecy. I was a private person, but I wasn’t a fake person. Acting like I wanted to be on a blind date while on TV was very much not me.
The news station had set up a round carpeted area for us to stand on and cheer during the weather forecast bit. As Jennifer explained it, this type of stuff was baby-newsraiding because the station wanted us here. Real newsraiding was when you jumped in the background without them knowing. The ultimate photobomb. No, thank you.
Jennifer showed me the poster options some members of the group had made for us. There wasBlame it on GoWithFriends,I Stayed Up All Night For This, or Best Blind Date Ever!I took theBest Blind Date Ever!one to share with Denver. The irony amused me. Plus, anything I could shove in front of my face seemed like an excellent choice.
“How long have you been on the app?” Jennifer asked me, dropping her voice and looking around.
“Not long.”
“This is my third group date. The first two were fun, but we didn’t really hit it off. My date from last time is right over there.” She discreetly pointed to a big guy in a brown bucket hat and pink polo shirt.
“Is that weird?” I asked. “Seeing each other on a group date when you’re here to meet someone else?” It occurred to me how much real-time data I could gather by being here. I was all-ears.
“Yes, it’s a little awkward. But it does make it easy to compare guys and maybe see if it was just a bad first impression. I mean, that hasn’t happened yet. If anything, seeing them again only confirms what I knew in my gut. Is that bad to say?”
“Not at all. Sometimes you just know.”
She leaned over and whispered, “I like Hector so far. What do you think of him?”
Now here was a question I was highly qualified to answer. Having read Hector’s file and watched the back and forth between him and Denver, I knew way more about him than she did. Hector was a genuinely good person looking for love. “I like him for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s sweet. That’s what my gut says. A potential keeper.”
She studied Denver and Hector, who were chatting away happily. It was a bromance in the making. “Denver’s cute. How’s that going for you?”
“Good so far.”
The crowd suddenly hummed with activity, saving me from having to elaborate on that. Whispers said we had one minute, tops, before show time. There was a lot of shuffling and squealing. Jennifer went to stand with Hector. She adjusted his collar while he talked, nodding up at him with her big brown eyes. He looked completely smitten. It was adorable. Getting to see them together for the first time almost made up for having to be here.
A few seconds later, the local weather guy ran out. He shook a couple hands before getting into position in front of the cameras.
Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Denver and I were at the back of the group where I could hide behind heads with my poster shield as backup. If all went well, I’d be stuffing my face with pancakes in less than a half-hour. Thanks to Carmen’s hard work, our large group had a reservation at one of the best breakfast places in Phoenix.
“You two, up here, please. With your poster.”
I heard it twice before I realized the bossy member of the TV station crew was talking to me and Denver. Denver swore under his breath, which I found hilarious, until the TV woman actually took me by the arm. “We want you up here, please. I know you’re both tall, but we still need to see you and this cute poster you made.”
“Oh, no. We’re fine where we are.” I started to pull back against her surprisingly firm grip, but now everyone’s eyes were on us, and I was holding up their morning show and not blending in. Marcel’s top rule for us today was to blend in.
I tucked away my irritation. “All right. Yay for me. Lead the way.” Plastering on a smile, like being manhandled by some woman on a power trip was my favorite thing ever, I let her lead us closer to the front.
She positioned us side by side with the poster between us, made a face, and then decided the best place for me was tucked in front of Denver. “Arms around her please. You hold her. She’ll hold the poster.”
Convinced we’d comply, she went to go bully some other people into position.
“You okay?” Denver asked.
I nodded, knowing he would feel the sensation of it against his chest.
“Hips?” He placed his large hands on my waist. “Or like this?” He wrapped one arm across my collar bone, tucking me in against his shoulder. It was surprisingly cozy. In fact, I liked both options. Which meant I hated both options. There were too many points of contact, and they all felt new and exciting. I was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
“Either one,” I ground out. “Whatever will keep that lady from coming back here with her grabby, news station hands.”
