I guess I can’t be that surprised. Jesse is definitelynotmy type, with his chinos and tech bro fleece zip-up. The app said his favorite book wasFreakonomics, for fuck’s sake. He has about as much imagination as a physics textbook.
What Jessedoeshave going for him is being the best of my eight matches. Sure, he looks like the preppy villain in an 80s movie, but at least he didn’t proudly show off a wall full of hunting knives in his profile. A douchebag, I can handle. I don’t have the cardio to fight off a serial killer.
Our server approaches with a champagne bucket. He sets it next to the table, pulls out the bottle, and uncorks it for us. Even though I definitely don’t want it, I still smile politely when he pours me a glass. “Thank you.”
Jesse doesn’t bother thanking the server. Hedoeslean over when the guy walks away though to whisper, “That’s grim. Stuck working this shitty job cause he won’t go in on the market. Way to fumble the bag. But whatever. Somebody’s got to flip the burgers, right?”
Jesus Christ. I’m really starting to regret turning down the hunting knives dude. I pull out my own phone and type up a message to Cat under the table.
Pippa
SOS. I’m on a date at Terrace with an evil techbro. Come downstairs and save me.
Before I can even press send, another text pops up.
Ryan
Dickface McCrypto is staring at your tits.
Wait, how does Ryan know I’m out with a tech bro? I whip my head around, scanning the restaurant for his messy dark hair. Unless he’s developed some serious psychic powers, he must be watching me from somewhere.
I practically fall out of my seat when I spot him barely six feet away from me. His lean frame leans against the bar, his brown eyes sparkling as he watches me. For a second, my heart hammers in my chest. I’m suddenly aware how the cool air feels against the upper swell of my breasts, exposed by the low sweetheart neckline of my black shirt.
How long has he been watching me?
My eyes shift back to Jesse, who is, yes, looking right at my tits. I put my hands on my neck, blocking the view with my forearms.
“So, uh, you’re in finance?” I ask. Not that I’m exactly excited to hear about Jesse’s job, but I need to distract myself from my stalker stepbrother.
“Crypto trading,” Jesse says. “You ever think about getting in the game?”
“Uh, I have a 401k at work.”
“Legit.” Jesse nods. “When you decide to upgrade, I’ll tell you exactly where to put your coin.”
“Uh, thanks. And I work as a writer atBelladonna Magazine.”
Of course, his eyes glaze over the second I start talking about myself. “Uh-huh,” he mumbles. “Yeah, one second.”
He turns back to his phone, which has been sitting face-up on the table since he got here. He’s not even pretending to payattention to me. I guess I’m one to talk, because my own phone lights up with a text from Ryan.
Ryan
Your date is riveting. Get him to tell you more about his coin.
Pippa
Aren’t you supposed to be in San Diego right now? Great city. Far, far away.
Ryan
Tournament was last night. I won, obviously. Slept in late and came back just in time to watch this natural disaster.
Sorry, autocorrect. By “natural disaster” I meant “date.”
Pippa
Stop staring at us, stalker.
