“She is. And I love her too.” I smile. “Do you have kids?”
“I’ve got two daughters,” he says. “Zoey and Ava. Pretty much grown now. They don’t need me for anything until a sink breaks or they forget to get the oil changed in their cars.” He laughs. “And stop changing the subject.”
“Was it that obvious?” I grin. “This dating app is not my favorite topic.”
“I promised I wouldn’t let your first date be a dud, so—” He touches a key on the laptop and it comes to life.
“Bachelor number one,” he says, affecting a game-show announcer voice. “Meet Tom. Tom is a data analyst at a software engineering company.”
“Hmm. I don’t think I could hold a conversation with Tom.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Sorry.” I nod. “Please continue.”
“Tom loves to play racquetball, go to museums, and playPokémon GO.”
I stare at him. “Please tell me this is not the best you have for me.”
He smirks. “You actually have lots of interest on this app.”
“I do?” My eyes go wide.
“You can’t be surprised,” he says.
“I can’t?”
“I mean, you know what you look like.” When he smiles, the tiniest lines crease at the edges of his eyes, and somehow they make him even handsomer.
I shove another bite in my mouth because, again, I don’t know how to respond. John wasn’t the complimenting type. If he thought I was pretty, he rarely said so, and I just assumed that’s how it was after you’d been together awhile.
I never dared to wonder because I had a whole lot to be thankful for.
“You really didn’t look at all?”
I chew the bite, then take a drink. “No. If I had, I would’ve figured out how to mute the notifications.” I take a bite of something that had been labeledbiryani, a rice dish with flavors so deep and complex, I have to pause to give it my full attention. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is amazing.”
“Have you tried the butter chicken?” He scoops up a bite on his fork and holds it out in my direction. It’s an innocent yet oddly provocative move, and after I swallow my bite, I meet his eyes.
He nods toward the fork, paused in the air between us, and I lean in while he feeds it to me. The creamy flavors of the tomato curry hit my taste buds, and I cover my mouth, nodding at Miles as if to communicate,Oh yeah, this is really good.
“Right?” he says, a satisfied smile on his face. Then he’s back at the computer. He clicks a button and another photo fills thescreen. “This is Henry. Henry is an investment banker, which means he’s probably very rich—or on cocaine—”
I laugh so hard I almost spit out the rice.
“Okay, let’s stay positive and say he’s rich.” He angles his head, studying me. “I get the sense you don’t care about that, though.”
I take a sip of wine. “I don’t. John was...” I catch myself. I really don’t want to talk about John, and I wish he would stop taking up so much real estate in my mind. “Money is fine, but I’d rather be with someone I can trust.” I look over and find Miles watching me like he’s collecting these tiny personal details I share in bits and pieces.
Miles turns his attention back to the computer. “Okay, well, Henrylookstrustworthy, but you know, time will tell. No immediate red flags is all I can promise.”
I take another bite as he clicks over to a third photo. The man on the screen looks perfectly nice, if a little bland. If I were to describe him to a sketch artist, I’d say,“A little round with a receding hairline and very dad-like features. A rounded nose and eyes that seem kind and close together. His ears stick out a little more than average, and he’s clean shaven.”
Then I realize that description would have the sketch artist drawing practically every character from the Guess Who? kids’ game Minnie used to love to play.
“This is Roger,” he says. “My personal favorite for your first date.”
“Your favorite? Why?” I frown. Henry was the best-looking option, not Roger, but in my experience, men with money are used to getting whatever they want.
