Never offend a woman with a knife in her hand.
‘I need to wash Andy’s sheets,’ I say as it occurs to me.
‘He’s away for ages yet,’ she reminds me. ‘Might as well leave them. I’m determined to give you a few more great nights out while he’s away.’
It’s funny that her idea of a good night out ends up with her sleeping here.
‘Round two with James?’ I say, curiously.
‘Oh God, no. Not him. Someone else.’ She narrows her eyes at me. ‘But you already knew that… how?’
‘JJ, I live with a man, and these are not thick walls,’ I reply. ‘Thanks to a skill I did not ask for, I’ve learned how to tell a faker from the real thing through the walls.’
‘You say faking, I say providing audible encouragement,’ she replies with a smile. ‘But let’s just say he took a lot of encouragement.’
‘And here’s me thinking I was the people-pleaser,’ I joke.
‘Well, Ben didn’t think so,’ she says, pushing my sandwich towards me. ‘I think you need my help.’
‘Yeah, I do, sell my romcom,’ I half joke.
‘Oh, no, not with that,’ she replies, dismissing the idea much quicker than I’d like. ‘You need my help getting a date. I’m going to set you up.’
‘It kind of felt like you did that last night,’ I point out. ‘Tell you what, you sell my book to a publisher, and I’ll date anyone you like.’
‘Deal,’ she says instantly, reaching out to shake my hand. ‘But we’re going to have to do it the other way around.’
‘No, that’s?—’
‘Too late, we already shook on it,’ she replies. ‘Let’s say three dates. Three chances to find someone you might actually like.’
She hands me ketchup without asking. She knows me too well.
‘Two,’ I counter. ‘We’re counting last night as one.’
JJ narrows her eyes.
‘That wasn’t a date, that was you showing him your… Ugh, I’m too cool to finish the sentence. Help me out?’
She makes the shape of a gun with her hand.
‘AK-24,’ I reply.
JJ shakes her head.
‘Yeah, okay, we desperately need to get you laid,’ she replies.
I just laugh.
‘I’m serious.’ She plonks her sandwich back down – she must mean business. ‘If we don’t have a man for you by the end of this, I’ll march into Love Ink Books HQ with my top off and demand they give you a book deal.’
‘Why does your top have to be off?’ I ask without missing a beat.
‘Have you seen the security guard there?’ she replies. ‘Fuck. Me.’
‘No, I haven’t seen the security guard there,’ I say, deadpan. ‘Because my agent can’t get me a meeting there.’
‘I’ll get you a date. Then I’ll get you a meeting,’ she promises. ‘You’ll see.’
