Page 10 of Hands off his Dudette

Nick's frown deepened as he took that in. "Yeah, I can see that," he admitted. "But silence makes me nervous. And dates make me nervous. I talk when I'm nervous."

She winced on his behalf. "How about this: after saying one thing, ask your date a question about their life. Like, 'I play football. How about you, do you like any sports?' That way, she'll reply, and there won't be any awkward silence. Plus, you won't seem like a self-centered jackass."

He looked like he might want to take notes. As he seemed to take it seriously, Anna added, "And being rude to waiting staff is a huge turn-off. Like, a huge one, because it denotes a fault of character. It shows you believe you're better than them."

To her surprise, he bobbed his head. "Thank you. That's helpful."

Vincent was back with her card and receipt. Nick got his wallet out of his jacket, and pulled out notes. "Let me pay you back for dinner. I definitely owe you. Maybe my next date won't be as disastrous."

Anna retrieved her card, signed the receipt, and shrugged. "Don't worry about it. And good luck on your next date."

They parted ways on friendly terms, strangely enough. Anna would never date him again, but she wished him well. She headed home in a cab, a box of goodies on her lap.

"I'm back!" she shouted, pushing the door open and closing it while balancing the desserts on her forearm.

Then, she remembered that Finn was probably still at the office. She'd called for take-out, paid over the phone, and had it delivered to his office, to make sure he ate.

The house was too large and empty when she was by herself. She put a movie on in the lounge just to have some background noise.Anna considered getting changed into her PJs, but dismissed the idea. Too much effort. She grabbed a beer from the fridge and lay down on the large, uncomfortable Chesterfield thatArabella Johnson had picked. It was mustard yellow and Anna would have loved to burn it to ashes. Ten minutes on the sofa guaranteed a neck ache. But it was a Johnson household, so changing furniture wasn't her place.

Sometimes, she wondered if she should move, have her own place. But the truth was, she didn't like living alone; these occasional evenings when Finn stayed at the office late were a reminder of that.

She watched The Hobbit's trilogy for the hundredth time or so. Orcs were chasing the company of Oakenshield when she heard a noise. Anna glanced at her phone. Just before midnight.

Finn's steps were as silent as he could make them at first, until he reached the lounge.

"You're still up!" he noted, surprised.

She smiled. "I blame Peter Jackson."

"Ah! Never start a journey to Middle Earth in the middle of the week," he reminded her, wisely.

He headed to the kitchen. "Are you going to be good or do you want a drink?"

"Beer, please."

He was back in no time, two beers in hand. "Thanks for the food again, dudette. Scoot."

She folded her legs to give him room. After sitting down, he extended them over his lap.

"You look nice," he noticed.

She smiled. He was used to seeing her in lounge wear at home, so the long blue dress was definitely an upgrade.

"Date night," she told him. "I bought it with Lucy on Black Friday."

He paused. "Date," he repeated. "With who?"

Anna remembered she hadn't told him about Nick.

"Piper's cousin. The food was great, and Nick is all right, really."

Or at least, he had been toward the end of the date.

"And he took you to a fancy restaurant where you had that dessert you sent me a picture of," Finn guessed.

"Oh, I took more than a picture! I packed mine up and got them to cook you one. It's in the fridge."

To her surprise, Finn didn't immediately make a bee-line for said fridge in order to recover his dessert. Instead, he said. "I didn't know you were dating Piper's cousin."

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