Page 33 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Um… “What?”

“He seemed super excited about doing me this solid. I like him, you know. You need friends like him in your life. I got his number, then texted him my address.”

“Again,what?”

“Check the closet. Some days I’m brilliant. Apparently, yesterday was one of those days.”

Pushed up from the mattress, I stormed over to the wall closest to the foot of the bed (even though not mad, more confused) and threw open the closet door half-expecting mya-ha!moment proving he had not spoken with my boss, to which he’d respond with a “Ha ha! Fooled you.”

But I didn’t get ana-hamoment. My pretty hot pink, lemon yellow, and apple green paisley print travel bag sat on top of a pile of shoes on the floor.

“He dropped it on my front stoop while we were out back picnicking last night. I left it out by the sofa and brought it in here last night when I got up to pee.”

“Why didn’t you just take me back to my place? Why go through the bother?”

“Frankly speaking, I was afraid if you went home, you’d decide to stay there, and I like you here with me.”

He liked me here with him? I didn’t know what to do with all that sweetness. And he was right, despite how much fun we’d been having over the past couple of days, I’d have probably found a reason to stay home. Like to freak out over the fact that I was to set sail with Len at the end of the month as Meredith Lowenstein’s personal stylist. I blinked my eyes several times hoping to blink away the tears. It didn’t work. So I took the only option left to me, grabbed the handle of my travel bag, and hauled butt to the bathroom.

Dion had hooked me up the way only a BFF could. He knew everything about me—my favorite outfits and how I did my hair. Twenty-five minutes later, I emerged from the shower scrubbed, hair thrown back in a ponytail, fresh makeup applied, clean clothing on my body and well in control of my emotions.

Len must have showered in the other bathroom as he sat on the sofa, one leg crossed over his knee, sporting some killer dark jeans, a light blue button-down with tiny white horses embroidered over the whole shirt, his sleeves turned up and these upscale slip-on tennies. He dressed like a young urban professional. The kind of guy who frequented cider microbreweries instead of beer, had a wine of the month club membership, and snacked on avocado toast points.

The look worked on him in a big way.

“Hey, fearless. You look beautiful today, baby.” He stood and walked over to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me in for a cheek kiss.

I was no slouch. Today I decided to go full-on girly. I wore a pretty white sundress with overly large pink roses printed on the fabric, the most comfortable pair of nude-colored wedge sandals in the known universe, and a white three-quarter sleeve fitted denim jacket thrown over top in case I got chilly. Yes, we were in the middle of summer, but as Len had yet to reveal our destination, how could I know if the place he’d choose for us to go jacked up the air conditioning?

“Thank you,” I responded. Ifeltpretty today. Felt happy today. So it was safe to say that Len picked a good day for our fun-fun adventure.

“Shall we?” he asked as he moved us to the door.

We landed first at a pancake house. So many varieties of delectable pancakes and like twenty syrup flavors. He and I had so much in common. I mean, he drove us there without asking for input. As if it were a given that I’d love the place because he loved the place. He’d been right. Pancakes are life. After that stop, we moved next to a little mom-and-pop coffeehouse, where he got me a salted caramel mocha. Yes, those exist and mine was phenomenal.

Over an hour on the highway later, he clicked his blinker and took an exit that led to a zoo. I hadn’t been to a zoo in years.

Len paid for us both again, even though I tried to pay for my own ticket. Then we spent the next couple of hours having a blast. In front of the monkeys we took a selfie of us together, puffed-out monkey faces, posed in our best monkey-impersonating poses.

Another visitor took pictures of us pretending to run screaming away from the lions. Len had quite the sense of humor, which caused me to crush even harder. How could I not?

When I got too warm wearing my jacket, Len carried it around the park for me. About halfway through the day, we stopped to get a snack. He paid about four dollars each for two bottles of water and bought us a large box of what they called zoo-corn, which was caramel corn with candy-coated chocolate-esque carob rounds, nuts, dried blueberries, and coconut flakes.

I didn’t remember ever having so much fun at the zoo.

We left about five o’clock and drove over an hour home. By the time we made it back, after all the fresh air, sun and walking around, my stomach was on the verge of consuming itself.

The need to tell him so evaporated when he turned toward the section of downtown where all the fancy-schmancy restaurants, eateries, and bistros clustered for our dining convenience.

He parked in one of the downtown’s many paid parking lots and we walked the block and a half to the place he wanted us to eat.

A place called Ceibo.

I’d never been here before, but even without the sign telling us so, I knew it served nouveau Argentinian cuisine. Seeing as I’d never triedold-veau Argentinian cuisine, I got pretty excited.

He held the door open and I stepped inside. His hand found the small of my back as we moved into line. There were two couples ahead of us, the front-most couple being led away by a server. The next couple moved up in line, up to the hostess counter. We moved up a spot, too.

“Don’t you need a reservation for this place?” I asked.

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