Page 19 of Minted

“Huh?” Barbara puts my phone down.

“Oppenheimer,” I say. “You know, the bomb guy?”

“Actually, you might have been right.” Barbara purses her lips. “You’re going to have a lot of trouble winning people over if they don’t know you’re rich.”

“That’s rude,” I say.

“Look, our third and final contestant is a librarian, and she’s both pretty and charitably minded. She helps set up little libraries all over the area, getting people to donate the books their kids have already read. She lists her passion as increasing literacy in children in the inner city.”

“That sounds super duper fake,” I say.

“What? Why?”

I sigh. “Who really cares about helping a bunch of people they’ve never met?”

“She likes kids.” Barbara holds up one finger. “She’s smart.” She holds up a third. “And look.” She spins the phone around, and I can’t argue with her. The librarian’s lovely to look at. She’s tall and thin, and her long, blond hair falls like a waterfall down her back.

“Isn’t it strange that a librarian has photos that look like she’s a print model?” I ask.

“Or a runway model,” Barbara says. “It says she’s five foot eleven.”

“I like tall women,” I say. “But I don’t love people who are constantly staring at mirrors and redoing their lipstick. It’s tiring.”

Barbara’s pretending to scribble something down. “Effortless beauty that is never annoying and never takes up any of Bentley’s precious time.” She looks up. “Sorry. I forgot to write that one down. You now have zero applicants who are viable.”

“On eHarmony,” I say.

She chucks her wadded up napkin at me. And then she throws the pen.

“Look, all I’m saying is that there must be some kind of balance. All those women look airbrushed and fake, and I wouldn’t be surprised if half of what’s in their profile isn’t even true.”

“And that, my dear Bentley, is online dating in a nutshell. Filtering out the lies from the truth.”

How tiring.

“You better get ready,” she says. “Because you’re about to buy a fake wardrobe so you can fight fire with fire.” She points at the door to the store and tosses her head.

Oh, no. She’s right.

6

Barbara

When I was little, we had this family that we hung out with all the time. My parents invited them over for almost every big holiday. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Easter. Birthdays. They had a little girl my age named Harriet, and she and I were close friends.

As close as you can be when you’re eleven, I suppose.

Anyway, she was super nice, she was funny, and she was smart, too. Family get-togethers were the only time I ever saw her, since we went to different schools. But then as we got older, our elementary schools fed into the same junior high.

I was so excited that Harriet would finally be a school friend. As a somewhat awkward kid, I didn’t have a ton of friends in my classes. If only we got the same classes, I’d have a bestie.

Finally.

On the first day of school, I hit the jackpot.

Harriet was in four of my six classes! She was a little quiet the first day and barely acknowledged that she saw me, but I knew that once things settled in, it would be amazing. Only, the second day, when I tried to sit by her, she told me the seat was saved.

Saved!

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