Page 44 of Hash

This is so not my thing.

“Okay!” I call back as I jump up and down as I try to get into these leather leggings. They always look good on, but damn are they a bitch to get into and almost as embarrassing to take off, especially in front of a guy. “You never told me his name!”

“It’s Jason!”

Makes sense he works in finance with a frat boy name like that. He probably had everything handed to him growing up.

“I think his dad owns the firm!”

And there you go.

After I slip on the strapless bra and top, I open the bathroom door and walk back to my room where Frankie lies on my bed, playing with Cormac, who is giggling up a storm.

It’s nearly impossible not to be happy when you look at him. He’s like an instant mood booster.

“I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ll give it a shot, but I can already tell we’re from completely different sides of the tracks.”

“Uh, that’s why they say opposites attract. Duh.” Frankie looks at me like I’m crazy. “And you look hot as fuck in that outfit. Those leather leggings do amazing things to your ass. Wait until you put a pair of heels on. If he doesn’t want to take you home and try to peel them off of you, I will personally report his profile.”

“Report it for what?” I ask as I look myself over in my full-body mirror.

Frankie’s right. I do look damn good in these pants.

“Not taking my girl to pound town.” Frankie laughs.

“Shut up.” I laugh as I throw my shoe at her, purposefully missing and turning back to the mirror.

I mess with the neckline of the sweater until I have it where I want it.

Maybe Frankie is right. I need to stop being so negative about everything. Jason might actually be a really great guy, and here I am being a fucking bitch.

The next time I tell myself I need to be more positive about things, I’m going to stab myself in the eye with a fork. And then I’m going to stab Frankie for convincing me this was a good idea.

This date is awful.

It’s been awful since he picked me up. I chickened out on wearing the outfit Frankie and I picked out and decided to go with a flowy black dress that hit mid thigh. It made me feel like every roll wasn’t out on display. The once-over he gave me when I opened the door before he even said hi told me everything I needed to know and had me immediately regretting my decision.

I wasn’t good enough.

The food is amazing of course, but Jason? Nope.

I didn’t think it was possible for someone to talk about themselves so much. Outside of asking what I do for work, he hasn’t asked one thing about me.

And I’m sorry, but a man who is pushing fifty shouldn’t be talking and bragging about the shit he did in college like it happened yesterday. It’s very obvious he peaked in his early twenties and never grew up.

I guess that explains why he’s never been married and doesn’t have any kids.

Sometimes it’s a lifestyle choice, and I respect that, but this isn’t that. If it weren’t for the spaghetti bolognese that tastes like an orgasm in my mouth, I would have walked out when he asked if I felt like popping another kid out.

Who asks that on the first date? Let alone like that.

It’s obvious to everyone around us but him I’m only here for the good food and wine.

“But anyway, enough about me.” Jason laughs casually as if I’m the one who asked him to talk for the last hour about himself. “Tell me more about yourself. Is there a crazy ex I need to be worried about?”

I choke on my wine.

Setting the glass down, I quickly grab the cloth napkin in my lap and bring it to my lips trying to quietly cough into it.