I can’t believe my mom thought she was a good fit for me. What does she think my type is?
I look up when there’s a long silence for the first time since the date began. I’m astounded to find Sarah looking at me as if she’s really interested in my answer to her question. Trouble is, I wasn’t listening to what the question was.
“I’m sorry?” I say.
“I was just wonderin’ what you thought of the food. Mine is great.”
“Yes,” I concede. “It’s very good.”
“I was disappointed you didn’t choose a seafood restaurant. I love calamari.”
My thoughts turn to the little octopus, huddled in the base of the fish tank in my apartment, and I swallow around the bile that rises in my throat.
“Hm, yeah, I don’t like seafood.”
“What?” she asks, slamming her fork down far too loudly. “Oh my god, I’ll have to change your mind on that. Youhaveto like seafood. That’s a non-negotiable for me.”
My fingers tighten on my glass. “Sorry to disappoint. It may be hypocritical to like meat and refuse to eat fish. But that’s me.”
“Fish is great, though,” she insists, oblivious to my rising irritation. Apparently, I’m not allowed to have differing opinions from this woman.
“Could I get some hot sauce with this?” she asks, as the waiter passes by. I’ve noticed she’s also pretty rude to the wait staff. When we arrived, she asked to move tables and complained about the lighting for twenty minutes straight.
“Uh, do you have any siblings?” I ask, in a feeble attempt to change the topic of conversation.
She shudders. “Lord no. I’m an only child.”
I nod as I sip my wine, waiting for her to ask me the same question. Like a normal person would do on a date.
“You don’t even like lobster?” she asks, laughing. “I mean, who doesn’t like lobster?”
I clear my throat. “I don’t eat any shellfish or seafood at all.”
“Don’t worry, I know a great restaurant that’ll change your mind. I’ll take you there, and you’ll never look back.”
“No, thanks.”
A little crease appears between her brows. “You won’t even try it,for me?”
What in the actual fuck?
“I don’t think?—”
“You piece of shit.”
I freeze. All the blood in my body rushes south at the familiar voice from behind me, and my heart starts hammering as I twist slowly around in my chair.
Carrying the same backpack she had in the office, her hair in that sexy ponytail running over her shoulder, and heels higher than I’ve ever seen her wear, is Jax.
She looks absolutely stunning, like a goddess standing over us, her bright-red lipstick and nails stark against the charcoal of her dress. It has rips in it that show tiny slivers of flesh all the way down to her legs. And just like that, I’m hard as stone.
“Uh… Jacqueline…” I say, playing along. “What?—?”
“Who the fuck is this?” she demands, pointing at Sarah.
I fight hard not to burst out laughing. People are staring. She’s making a scene just like I asked, and I see some of the staff who have stopped what they were doing, staring at us like she’s completely insane.
“Who is this?” Sarah asks as I twist back in my seat.
