“Yes.” I smile. “Well, I own the shop. It’s called Loved Again, a couple of blocks down from here. I sell vintage clothes along with some of my own designs.”
“Right.” Simon nods. “That sounds interesting.”
He focuses back on the coaster and I take a second to size him up. Good height, not unattractive, full head of hair. Shame about his crap choice in drinks, but I’m sure we can work on that. There’s a faint flicker of hope inside me, like there always is at this point in a date. Is there a chance this could be something?
He glances up at me, his eyes tracking over my face. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “you look a lot like my favorite porn star.”
Right. Well. Maybe not then.
“Do you have a Porn Hub profile?”
I rub my temples, releasing a long, resigned breath. “No, Simon. I don’t.”
He leans forward, leering at me again. “We should set one up for you, make some videos together. I’d be happy to help.”
Despite this undeniably generous offer, I shake my head, pressing my lips together to hold in a frustrated scream.
I always do this. I want to give guys the benefit of the doubt, and they turn out to be awful. I need to trust my gut response and stop being so damn nice.
I glance down the bar to where Myles is standing, watching us with interest. I might have only known him for five minutes longer than Simon, but suddenly his presence is making me feel safe. His eyebrows lift in question and I grimace in response. Then he gives me the tiniest nod, appearing in front of us again.
Thank fuck.
“Excuse me, miss?” Myles leans on the bar, giving me a meaningful look. “You have a phone call.”
I muffle a laugh. Is that the best he could come up with? Honestly, who would be calling mehere, rather than on my cell? What is this, 1995?
But it’s the only exit strategy I have right now, so I play along, making my eyes wide. “Really? Who is it?”
“Uh…” His gaze slides left, then right. “It’s your mom. She’s in the hospital.”
“Oh.” I raise a hand to my chest, glancing at Simon. I’m expecting him to be a bit suspicious of this blatant charade, but he’s staring at me with the most dim-witted expression that I almost burst out laughing. Somehow, I manage to contort my face to appear apologetic. “You don’t mind, do you? I wouldn’t normally do this, but…”
“It’s quite urgent,” Myles continues, his eyes dancing as he gets into character. “She fell down fifteen flights of stairs and broke eight bones. The doctors are saying that if they don’t operate now—”
“Okay, thank you,” I say hastily, glaring at Myles. “I’ll take the call.” I hop off the barstool, making another regretful face at Simon. “It wasgreatto meet you. We can, uh, do this another time?”
He gives me a nod, his uncomprehending eyes following me as I snatch up my purse and hurry behind the bar and around the corner, out of sight.
I lean back against one of the refrigerators, chuckling to myself. Usually when I need Cory to help me out he just tells the guy to leave. That was quite creative.
Myles appears out back a moment later. “He’s gone. You okay?”
“Yeah.” I exhale with relief. “He asked me if I wanted to make porn with him.”
“Shit.”
“I know.” I contemplate Myles for a second and a laugh bubbles up my throat. “Fifteen flights of stairs? Really?”
He spreads his hands, a sheepish grin on his face. “It was all I could think of.”
“Well, it did the trick. Thanks.” I poke my head around the corner, checking the coast is clear, then wander back out and hop up on my barstool again.
“Another drink?” Myles asks, reaching for the vodka.
“Yeah, thanks.” I pull my phone out—the one that, let’s face it, my motherwouldhave called me on if she’d actually been at the hospital—and send a text to my friend Geoff. It’s too early to go home and I’m all dressed up. We should at least have a drink, if he’s free.
Cat: Disaster date. Where are you?
