“Huh?”
“In that parking lot.”
“Ah, yes. That was an accident born from my irrational fear of snakes. I saw Kian’s sidekick there, but I didn’t see you.”
She scrunched her eyebrows. “Sidekick?”
“Yes, Kian’s emotional-support pal,” I said, like it was obvious.
She chuckled. “I think I’m going to start calling Amir that.”
“He probably won’t like it.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” She grinned, then took a sip of her water before she asked, “So, you’re not dating anyone back home in the States?” I shook my head. “Have you been on many dates?”
“Okay, Dina,” I started. “I can understand you being protective of your boss, but this line of questioning is going a bit too far.” Then a thought occurred to me and I studied her expression. “Unless it’s your boss you’re in love with?”
She gaped at me, a look of horror on her face.
“I’m not. I’m just curious and don’t want Mr. Cortes to get involved with a blood-sucking”—my eyebrows met my hairline—“gold digger. Well, no, that doesn’t seem right. You’re a doctor, so youdon’t fit the gold-digger profile.” There had to be logic there, but I didn’t see it. “But are you a blood-sucking woman?”
“I’m not a vampire,” I deadpanned. “And since you’re so adamant about this, and I have some alcohol in my bloodstream, I’ll tell you my first boyfriend was my cousin’s best friend who slept with his now ex-wife.”
“Please tell me that is the plot to some American soap opera and not the truth.”
A shudder rolled down my spine at the memory. “We learned much later on that she’d drugged him, but that’s beside the point. Let me just tell you, it’s brutal out there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some people are just weird,” I said, recalling a few instances of terrible dates. “This one guy showed up to a five-star restaurant in flip-flops.”
“What’s wrong with flip-flops in the summer?” Dina questioned, narrowing her eyes at me, then pointing to her own feet.
“Oh, that’s not even the bad part. His feet were wet for whatever reason, so every step he took made this unmistakable farting sound.” She giggled. “I kept snapping my head around like a startled dog, convinced something was behind me.”
“I can see how that would ruin the mood.”
I nodded. “Then another guy… God, just thinking about it makes me want to gag.”
She leaned closer. “You have to tell me.”
“The date was actually going pretty well. At the end of it, he walked me home… I lived in downtown Georgetown in DC.” She waved her hand, clearly not interested in details, and I cut to the chase. “So, he leaned in and I saw all this buildup on his teeth.” I gagged just thinking about it. “I pointed it out and the man told me he didn’t believe in toothbrushes. I’ve never run so fast in high heels.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re making that up.”
I shot her a somber look. “Do I look like I am?”
“Not really.” She cackled. “No wonder you think Mr. Cortes is hot.”
“Dina, I don’t just think it. He is hot.” I poked her in the shoulder. “He’s a DILF.”
Her mouth shaped in a silent O. “You Americans and your acronyms.”
“I know. It’s probably not for the best either.”
“It’s not.” The DJ continued blasting Balkan remixes so loud my rib cage vibrated. “Let’s go dance,” she suggested.
“Okay.”
