“Are you?” I asked. I got a scratchpad from my purse, flipped it open, and pretended to read the field notes I’d made a few days back while observing customers in the magazine aisle at Barnes and Noble. “Isabella, can I ask you some questions?” As she opened her mouth, I continued, “On a scale of one to ten, how well would you say Sebastian did at starting aconversation?”
“I’m sorry?” she asked in an accent far lovelier than anyone deserved. Italian, like my mom’s side of thefamily.
Sebastian drew back. “Georgina—”
“God, where is my brain tonight?” I asked. “I should’ve mentioned this since Sebastian obviously wouldn’t. I’m hiscoach.”
“Coach?” she asked. “What does thatmean?”
“Sebastian and I have been working on some . . . tactics,” I said gently, emphasizing the word as if it were a dirty one. “I’m a renowned pick-up artist—and Sebastian’s datingcoach!”
The woman’s mouth went round. “Did you saypick-upartist?”
“I know, I know,” I said, waving my hands. “Forget what you’ve heard. It’s not as skeevy as it sounds. People have coaches for everything else. Why not the most important thing there is? Love,” I said before she could answer. “I work with those who are, well, for lack of a better word . . .” I smiled broadly at Sebastian and patted his shoulder. “Romanticallychallenged.”
Isabella’s eyes darted between the two of us before she fixed her glare on Sebastian. “You werepracticingonme?”
Seeing as his jaw nearly rested on the table, he didn’t respond. I leaned over to Isabella and whispered loudly enough for Sebastian to hear, “Take it as a compliment,sweetheart.”
“A compliment?” sheasked.
It was working. She looked almost as horrified as Sebastian. The fact that I’d made his jaw drop did more than boost my confidence—it made me want to giggle. I was havingfun. I leaned back in my seat and addressed Isabella. “By the way, if you know of anyone who could use some help getting dates, you can find me at fromchumptohump-dot-com, formerly fromdisstokiss-dot-com, formerly fromwimptopimp-dot—”
“We get it,” Sebastian said through his teeth, then turned to Isabella. “You’re not buying this, areyou?”
“How do you spell that first website?” Isabella asked me, fishing around her purse, presumably for herphone.
I gave Sebastian what I hoped was an ultra-casual smile. “Sebastian has been one of my best students to date. He’s a fast learner.” I let my smile fall into a cringe. “You should’ve seen him just lastmonth.”
“All right.” Sebastian’s nostrils flared. “That’senough.”
Isabella squeaked. “What was he like lastmonth?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it.” I remembered in college reading about an author who’d written a book on how to be a player. I’d never read it, but apparently, I didn’t need to. With a little help from Garth’s “geek” how-to, the ideas flowed like a river of melted butter. “His mother booked me through my website,” I said. “I found him in New Jersey sitting in her basement on a throne of pizza boxes playingMinecraft. Not evenFortnite! At least that takes skill.” I shook my head solemnly and looked at Sebastian. “You’d be surprised what I can do with a man who was recently masturbating to animated women inmidriffs.”
“Did you sayNew Jersey?” Isabellaasked.
I leaned in confidentially. “He was wearing those pajama jeans fromCostco.”
“Costco?” Isabella stood so fast, her chair nearly toppled over. “You used me, you pig,” she said, snatching her purse from the back of her chair before she stormedout.
I grimaced. “The masturbating comment was too far, wasn’tit?”
Sebastian glared at me. “What thehelldo you think you’redoing?”
“Did you think I’d just hand overvictory?”
“Justin put you up to this, didn’the?”
Sebastian was angry. My instinct was to go red in the face and apologize profusely for interrupting his evening. I’d come this far, though, so I battled through it. “Listen, if you can’t come back from that, then you’ve been resting on your looks toolong.”
“She ran out! I couldn’t even get a word inedgewise.”
I shook my head slowly. “You’rerusty.”
“Really? I can still catch her.” He got up from the table but hesitated when I flinched. Quickly, I schooled my expression to hide anydisappointment.
“If that’s what you’re looking for, go ahead,” I said, but the confidence I’d just earned faltered. He seriously wanted someone superficial enough to walk out on him overjeggings?
