Page 23 of 28 Dates

“It’s fine.” I reach for my water, hand shaking. “Whatever.” He broke up with Ashley. And he didn’t tell me. We really are truly over. I fake a smile we both know I don’t mean. “It’s fine, Sara. We were over long ago.”

It doesn’t explain why tears are burning the backs of my eyes, though.

The door opens then and grabs our attention. Sara because she’s at work, and me because I’m thankful for any interruption in this conversation.

A man walks in by himself, poorly fitted suit over his rounded body. His thinning hair is brushed to the side, and while his face is young, the lack of hair and larger frame give him an older look. He’s definitely not Isaac.

My shoulders slump. Not that I’m going to be a great date anyway right now. This shouldn’thurtso much, not now, and it makes no sense.

“I should get to work,” Sara says. Her fingers brush the table as she heads that way, and I pull my phone out of my purse. Ten minutes late is doable, but this guy is now pushing fifteen, and that’s a bit—

“Hello, Caitlin.” A heavy, rich voice says my name, and I lift my head to see the suit. The rumpled dress shirt beneath and loosened tie at his throat. The heavy set of skin beneath his jaw and…

“Do I know you?”

This can’t be. My hopes are dashed as the guy at my table nods toward the empty chair. “Isaac. May I sit?”

He’s already pulling back his chair, settling in before I can answer. I shake my head to clear it, but my brain has turned to cotton balls. Completely useless. This on top of the bomb Sara just dropped in my lap? It’s too much. Have I just been…what’s that word?

Catfished?

That’s it. And I’m not amused.

“I see you’re upset,” he says, “And I’d apologize, but you’re pretty and I liked talking to you, and I knew there’s no way I’d get your attention otherwise.”

Oh. My. God. Are all men creeps or scum?

“You’re—” I’m still having a hard time forming words. This is a betrayal I haven’t expected. It’s one thing to be weird or awkward or even have some gross toe fetish, but to outrightlie? “You’re Isaac?”

“I am.”

Anger and humiliation begin to bubble. “And you’re a liar.” My teeth slam together. This is not okay.

“Everything I said to you was true.”

He’s defending his behavior. It’s unreal. I shake my head again, but my shock doesn’t settle. And Ihurt.Why do I feel violated in some weird, unexplainable way?

Once again I’m gathering my purse and coat before I can enjoy a meal with someone. What is wrong with people? What’s wrong withmethat these are the guys whose attention I’m grabbing? “You’re an asshole, is what you are.” I’m too upset to bother trying to be kind or polite. Besides, he doesn’t deserve it. “I understand you think you might not have been able to get my attention without that profile, but you didn’t lie, you created a different person. You tricked me, and that’s not right. Plus, that means you assume all the girls you think are pretty are selfish, shallow bitches, and if you think that going into anything with a woman, you’re going to end up disappointed.”

I shove away from the table and catch Sara’s wide-eyed look. I have nowhere to run to catch the sob bubbling in my throat. I will not run out the door back to my apartment with tears streaming down my face. I need a minute.

Instead of heading toward the front door, I turn toward the back hallway. Shoving open the restroom door, it slams closed behind me, and I press my back to it “My God,” I groan. My head falls back with a thump.

It’s one thing to exaggerate. Hell, all of a sudden Brett and his “I work in finance but really just balance my mom’s checkbook so she keeps me in clean underwear” seems a lot more reasonable.

But this guy is two hundred pounds larger than the photo he gave and there’s no way that was ever his real hair.

Vomit pools. Not because of how the guy looks, but because of what he’s done, and automatically assumed aboutme.A cold shiver rolls through me, and I go to the bathroom sink. Turning on the faucet so only hot water pours out, I shove my hands under it. It’s scalding hot, but the burn somehow distracts me. Is this what dating is like?

Good grief, no thank you. I’m so disgusted I can hardly think straight.

A knock hits the bathroom door, and I pull my hands back, facing it. Is he coming here?

Another knock quickly follows, and the door is opening. I step back and bump into the hand dryer. The violent whoosh of hot air shocks me, and I’m a mess by the time Jonas peeks his head inside.

“You okay?”

God. My shoulders slump. I don’t even realize how tense I’ve been until they ache. “What are you doing here?”

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