I haven’t seen him in a couple days, unless you count peeking at him through my blinds, watching him leave last night for what I assume was a date.
Lorraine turns, and when she sees me, she starts waving enthusiastically. I check to make sure she’s not filming before I drop the curtain and walk out the front door.
She’s marching toward me, but Miles hangs back.
“Claire, we were just talking about you!” Lorraine grabs my arm and leads me back to where Miles is standing.
“About me? Uh-oh.” And why does Miles look bothered?
“Well, I heard you’ve beendating,” she says, like she’s been let in on a big secret.
Miles shoves his hands in his pockets and becomes the picture of nonchalance.
Today he’s wearing jeans and a light blue button-down with the sleeves rolled. The blue brings out the color of his eyes—as if they needed to get any brighter. Miles is the kind of handsome that makes women on the street do a double take when they see him.
I force myself not to be one of those women and focus on Lorraine.
“I’ve been out on a couple of dates, yes,” I say as casually as I can. “But I’m giving it a rest. Dating apps might not be my thing.”
“Well, then, this is perfect!” she chimes. “Because it’s not a dating app. One of my followers wants to meet you.”
I frown.
“One of your... what?”
She keeps going without answering my question. “He didn’t see the video live, but he watchesallmy videos, so when he saw the one I made with you in it, he reached out,” Lorraine says. “I was just telling Miles about it because I know he’s playing matchmaker.”
I shoot Miles a side-eye. “He’s not doing a very good job.”
“Well, that’s because he’s a man,” Lorraine says.
I grin as Miles rolls his eyes. “That’s why I’m the perfect one to help.”
“But you are committed to not being committed,” Lorraine says. “Not what Claire needs at all.”
Miles’s eyes meet mine, but he quickly looks away.
“This man—Duffy—is perfect for you.” She squeezes my arm.
“His name is Duffy?” Miles asks incredulously.
Great minds, I guess,I think.
“He’s a pediatric dentist,” Lorraine says, ignoring him. “He’s got his own practice, and he’s looking for someone who likes quiet nights watching movies on the couch—oh, and he’s awinecollector. I think he’sveryromantic, Claire.”
“His name is Duffy,” Miles says drolly.
“Can I give him your number?” Lorraine’s eyes are so hopeful. “I told him that if he’s going to plan a date with someone as special as you, it had better be a very unique date, and he told me he already has a few ideas.”
The compliment embarrasses me, and I feel my face flush. I glance at Miles, who says nothing.
Lorraine hands me her phone. “This is him.”
On the screen, there’s a photo of a studious-looking man with sandy-colored hair and round glasses and a bright red clown nose. And I get the distinct impression that he is far more decent than Barry, more engaged than Scott, and more sober than Roger.
But it all could be just wishful thinking.
“Oh! The nose is because he works with kids,” she says. “Red Nose Day! The fundraiser? Do you know it?”
