“It’s okay,” Abby said. “Keep working on your projects.”
She snatched her phone from Naomi. “What is wrong with you?”
“So many things. Which is good for my therapist’s investment portfolio. Seriously, Abby, you need this. You need to get out there. Not every guy is a douchebag.”
“I don’t know anything about this guy. He could be a serial killer.”
“I don’t think Veterans Against Child Abuse would let a serial killer ride with them,” Naomi said.
“Well, obviously he hasn’t been caught yet.”
“Abby, you have a hot guy who wants to take you out to dinner. Who cares if it’s a bust and he’s not the one?” she said with air quotes. “Whatever that means. Think of him as practice. Flirt a little, rip off the Band-Aid, break the seal.”
Abby glared at her.
“Not like that. Although if you do, please tell me all the dirty details, especially if he really is good with his hands.”
Would it be so bad going out one time with a guy? He was hot. And relatively amusing. And it had been a long time since she’d been on a real date.
She scrolled through the short text exchange.
Hi. This is Abby.
Hey. I didn’t think I’d hear from you.
Why did you give me your card then?
I was hopeful.
You want to get drinks sometime?
I’m not much of a drinker
Are you an eater?
Of food?
Yes
Yes.
How about dinner Friday?
Sounds like fun
Want to meet somewhere or you good with me picking you up?
You can pick me up
Cool. See you at 6.
Abby stared at Naomi. “You told him to pick me up?”
“It’s a date. We’re doing it the old-fashioned way,” Naomi said.
“What is this we? You’re not going on a date with him.”
“The colloquial we.”
