Page 90 of The Disasters of Dating
Brenden nods. “I’m sure no one will have a problem with it.”
I flick a smile at him. “Great.”
The Spicy Cactus???
Poppy
Oh, I’ve heard of them. I think they have more than one location. Which one?
I look up at Brenden. “She says there’s more than one Spicy Cactus location. Which one are we going to?”
He smiles. “The one in American Fork.”
I nod and look back at my phone. I wish he would leave and let me text in private. Does he realize how intrusive he is being right now?
American Fork.
Poppy
Why don’t I meet you there? It will take you twice as long to come get me with traffic at that time.
I was looking at a few apartments in the South Jordan area earlier. Maybe I can skip lunch and leave an hour early. If I schedule the first appointment for 4:30, I would be in the general area and could pick her up after.
I’ll be at an appointment in South Jordan. Is that close enough that I can pick you up?
Poppy sends a thumbs-up emoji to my text.
Poppy
What time?
“What time are you all meeting?”
“6:30,” Brenden says. “So I should get a table for six?”
I raise a brow. “You’re not bringing a date?” I ask as I text Poppy.
How about I pick you up at 6?
She gives me another thumbs-up emoji.
Brenden’s face pinks slightly. “No,” he stammers. “I’m not dating anyone right now.”
Hmm. An interesting reaction for not dating anyone. And why is he giving me so much crap when he isn’t seeing anyone? “Okay, I guess we’ll see you there, then.”
Brenden pushes himself out of the chair—about fifteen minutes later than he should have—and stands up. “Great. I’m excited to meet ‘the airport girl.’”
I give him what surely looks like a very fake smile. “Yeah,” is all I say. The evening hasn’t even begun, and I’m already regretting most of my decisions of the last fifteen minutes.
I walk up to the door of the house at the address Poppy texted to me. It isn’t large, but it isn’t small either. It’s very middle-class. I like it immediately. It feels very homey, even from the porch.
I knock and Poppy opens the door. “Come on in. I just need to grab my purse.” She’s wearing black skinny jeans and a cross-over top. It is so not her. She looks amazing— she could wear a garbage bag and still look great—but she doesn’t have her normal carefree ease about her. Maybe it’s because her normal braids are missing. Her hair is hanging down in waves over her shoulder. Again, not unpleasant in the least. But it is not the look I’m used to with her. I kind of miss her flowy skirts and tops. Even her Hammer pants make my heartbeat tick up.
I tip my head to the side. “I’ve never pictured you in skinny jeans.”
She bites her lip and looks down, running her hands down her thighs. “Am I dressed too casual? I let Paisleigh pick this out, but now I’m not sure.”
She glances down the hallway, and I see a head peeking out from a doorway. As our eyes connect, I grin.
