‘But with respect, how would you know?’ Fee questioned. ‘If we were to invest in this idea – which I think has significant traction, by the way – we’d be investing millions. We need to do extensive data analysis, to ensure the problems women face in Glasgow are in fact the same on this side of the Atlantic.’
I felt my heart sink. Shit. She was right. We hadn’t spent enough time exploring the dating scene in America. I mean, I had watched movies, TV shows, insta reels and seen similar issues, but I didn’t have hardcore evidence that the fuck boy epidemic was worldwide.
‘I understand,’ I agreed, feeling a wave of defeat.
‘Oh, it’s the same as Glasgow,’ Katy piped up. ‘If not worse.’
Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her? I wasn’t sure if the jet lag had got out of control or if her hangover dehydration was causing some weird psychosis.
Zola laughed in a faux-cheery way, trying her best to cover up for our friend.
‘And how is that? Where is the evidence?’ Fee questioned.
‘I am the evidence!’ Katy called out, rising to her feet. ‘Me!’
I stared at Zola, who looked as freaked out as I was.
‘Hahaha,sit down,’ Zola warned.
But Katy began pacing. ‘Last night I arrived in this gorgeous, mind-blowing city and went on my first Tinder date.’ Her voice trembled. If she was about to confess her love for the American guy she met less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d ruin the entire pitch. We were trying to expose the flaws of dating apps, not present a perfect NYC love story.
‘Uh-huh?’ Fee replied, completely engrossed.
‘We went for cocktails, and he decided to take me on a whistlestop tour of New York since I’d only just arrived. One thing led to another .?.?.’
I edged forward, eyeballing Zola. What the fuck was Katy doing?
‘And before I knew it, I was back at his high-end hotel room – taking part in the devil’s tango, if you get me, Fee?’
Sitting beside Fee, Travis let out an enormous cough. Jesus, I felt for him. This poor guy must be wondering what the hell he’d walked into.
Zola stood up. ‘Babe, come on. Fun as it sounds, these lovely people do not want to hear about your sex life.’
‘Devil’s tango!’ Fee shook her head and for a hot moment I was genuinely afraid we were about to be deported. Then she leaned back in her chair and grinned. ‘Oh, girl, we do! Trust me, we seriously live for the drama. What happened next?’
Zola slowly sat back in her chair, covering her face with her hand.
‘Well, we did the tangoing, no messing. Nine times, if we’re collecting data here.’ Katy let out a puff, as if she’d run a marathon. ‘And I really had high hopes he could be the one, you know. But as I left the hotel room, I .?.?. I .?.?.’
Zola and I exchanged confused looks. Before she’d stepped into this meeting, Katy had been happier than Donald Trump at a Miss Universe beauty pageant with this guy.
‘I saw a message pop up on his phone. From .?.?. from his wife! He was working away and obviously thought he’d dip his dick in a dippy Scottish tourist who didn’t know better.’ Her eyes were filling with tears.
Jesus H. Christ, give this girl an Oscar, I thought.
‘Wow, honey.’ Fee let out a low whistle of disbelief. ‘You don’t deserve a douche like that.’
I agreed as sympathetically as I could.
‘So, you see? It’s a global problem,’ Zola concluded, holding up her hands. ‘A default option for sleazes the world over.’
‘Jesus, it makes me glad I skipped the apps,’ Fee admitted.
‘Tell me about it.’ Katy’s lip was quivering. ‘I mean, it toughens a girl up, but no one should have to be so goddamn resilient. It’s time, let’s face it, for a reckoning—’
‘OK, OK, let’s break up for a few hours,’ Jimmy interjected. ‘Travis will review the numbers, then we’ll reconvene to discuss. How does meeting back here at two sound?’
I grinned, beyond grateful for an out.
