I just stay quiet.
Not because I don’t want it—I do. I just … I’ve been to more of these events than I can count, and I’m starting to wonder if this is really how it happens.
But in a city like New York, where everyone’s busy and buried in their phones, I’m not sure what the better option is.
Online dating seems worse.
At least, here, people have to look me in the eye.
The announcer finishes up explaining the rules for the event, and how the women are going to be the ones table-jumping tonight. I don’t complain about that and tell the waitress “thanks” as she drops off my score sheet. It seems kind ofshallow to score our dates based on a total of five minutes with them…
But whatever.
Maybe tonight’s the night I’ll experience love at first sight, if that even exists. The closest I’ve ever come to it is when I first saw Parker’s little sister, Brittany. She was only eighteen at the time, and I was twenty-one. She was a freshman in college, and I was a junior.
But, dang, was she pretty.
The prettiest woman I’d ever seen in my life.
But maybe that’s lust, not love.
“Hi,” a voice says across from me. “I’m Cheryl.”
I whip my head around to meet my first date, who I didn’t even realize had sat down. “Hey. I’m Weston. You can call me Wes.”
“Hello, Wes.” She giggles, flipping her jet-black hair over her shoulder. She has deep hazel eyes—the kind that reach into your soul and squeeze the emotions right out of you.
“Well, let’s see how much we can learn about each other in five minutes,” I joke, leaning back against the black faux leather and grabbing my drink. “Tell me, what would be your perfect date?”
She purses her lips together, taking a sip of her own champagne. “Well, I like five-star restaurants and prefer to travel for dates. I make it a point to travel out of the country at least once per month.”
“Wow,” I choke out, already picturing my bank account crying. “What do you do for work?”
“Oh.” She brushes me off. “I’m an influencer, but my ex-boyfriend got me hooked on destination dates. It’s a better backdrop for my content. He always made sure I had everything I needed. I still live with him, but we’re seeing other people.”
Well, that’s an interesting arrangement.
But I choose not to dig. “Being an influencer is cool. What’s your niche?”
She shrugs. “Mostly just clothes. Do you want to see?” Her face seems to light up at her own suggestion, so I nod, not wanting to dampen the mood.
“Of course.” I take a long draw of my Jack and Coke, as she slides her phone across the table for me to see.
And my eyes widen.
“Lingerie.” I nearly choke on the word as I divert my gaze, feeling as though I’ve stumbled across something I shouldn’t be looking at. “That’s interesting.”
She giggles. “It makes good money.”
And attracts some real creeps, probably.My stomach tightens at the thought of dating a lingerie influencer. The most my social media has on it is pictures of random sunsets…
The timer goes off, signaling the end of the date, and Cheryl vacates the booth. I quickly grab my paper and write a bigNOnext to her name.
I drum my fingers on the table in front of me, not so sure of myself at the moment. I have plenty of confidence. I’m a successful software programmer, my best friend is my boss, and I have a nice townhouse on the Upper East Side. My family is great, though they live across the country, in California.
“You look deep in thought.”
I look up to meet a pair of bright jade eyes, penetrating my steely blue ones. “Sorry, I was just trying to figure out why I have such a hard time finding a real connection.” I mean for it to come out in a flirty, joking way, but instead, I just sound pathetic.
