I regret telling them anything at all, let alone accidentally gushing about Moyo’s beauty when I got back from the hospital that day. The teasing that is still going on is insufferable. But on the bright side, it does bring me updates like this.
“Toss me my keys,” I say, and she obliges.
Merc blocks my exit and hands me an envelope with the check inside. “Before you go, do you remember everything you need to say?”
I recite the script like a robot: “Hand the customer the envelope, explain the coaching process, answer any questions.” It’s not a long list, but they’ve mentioned it multiple times over the last two weeks. I couldn’t forget if I wanted to. I couldn’t forget anything concerning Moyo even if I tried, and trust me, I’ve tried.
Merc nods, satisfied.
“Okay, go get ’em, Tiger. I—we”—they gesture to Vee—“are counting on you.”
I’m in my car when Merc texts me the address, and my buzzing optimism flickers to confusion for a moment. Moyo lives on my block. Onthe opposite side of the street but definitely the same block. How have I not met her beforeCupid’s Bow? I park my car in my driveway and walk to her house.
The question gnaws at me until the second I’m in front of her navy-blue door. I take one more calming breath, my finger hovering over the white doorbell.
I will not get carried away.
I will control myself and will not succumb to weird emotions.
I’m here to provide a service and figure out how to improve an algorithm I created.
I push the button and the door opens before I take my next breath.
Moyo Adegbite greets me in a pair of blue jeans that accentuate her curves and a white crop that highlights the fact she’s clearly not wearing a bra. I stare a second too long before I remember why I’m here. I repeat my mantra in my head one more time.
“It’s good to see you again, Dr. Adegbite.” I extend a hand. I’m going to be the most professional person she’s ever met. “I’ll be your dating coach. May I please come in?”
“Once a month?” She repeats my statement with a slack jaw. It’s been almost an hour, and we’ve gotten nowhere. This woman is insufferable and nothing like I expected. Don’t get me wrong, she is beautiful and breathtaking, but she’s also a pain in my ass.
“What’s wrong with once a month?”
“I don’t know what your dating life is like. Maybe you haven’t been on a date in a minute. But when I’m actively dating—which I will be if I decide to go through with this—I see someone more often than once a month. I’d say every two weeks.” She folds her arms and pushes her full tits up, letting some cleavage show. If this were another situation, I’d trail a finger along her collarbone and ask if I could feel more of her soft, delicate skin. Now, I just want to wring her neck.
Why is she commenting on my dating life?
I grit my teeth. “Next time, just say you think every two weeks would suffice.”
“I’m trying to see if this arrangement will be worthwhile. Once a month wouldn’t make sense,” she scoffs.
“Fine.”
The quicker I leave her house, the better.
It didn’t start off like this. When I first arrived, we were cordial. She invited me over to a comfortable, green sofa. I handed her the white envelope and told her we’d discuss the initial details to see if we were a good coaching fit. Her smile was captivating, she invited me to use her lovely first name, and she radiated anxious, excited energy. I was the confident one. Everything was perfect…until I suggested that I sit in on dates.
She asked if I was dizzy. It was all downhill from there.
So far, we have agreed that I willnotbe sitting in on any dates. Supposing we do this—a prefix she never neglects to add—we’ll meet in predetermined locations that will be communicated via Mercury. Yes, I suggested giving her my number or email to eliminate the extra step. Yes, she snapped at me. Throughout this debacle, one thing has rung clear: this woman is a Saturnian individual. Too many walls, not enough faith.
“Anything else, Dr.—”
“You called me Moyo before. Why are you calling me ‘doctor’?”
I plaster on my fakest smile. “Yes, Moyo. Anything else you want to touch on?”
“To clarify, if I agree to this process, we’ll only meet after each of the three dates. Yes?”
“Yes. Three dates with three separate matches. Unless you happen to be satisfied after the first, and then we’re done.”
