Page 37 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“I can hear you,” I called out.
Sean reappeared, his expression shifting to something craftier. “Okay, last chance. If you reject this one, I'm telling Artie you're sabotaging her love life.”
My stomach dropped. “That's not—I'm not?—“
“Sure you're not.” Sean's phone shifted, and suddenly he was showing me a photo. “Rob Kramer. Five four, stunt coordinator, rock climber, teaches kids' martial arts on weekends, volunteers at the aquarium, and literally everyone who meets him falls a little bit in love with him. Literally.”
I stared at the photo. Rob was... annoyingly attractive. Compact, muscled in that functional way that came from actually using your body rather than just sculpting it. Confident stance, genuine smile, surrounded by kids in tiny gis in what was clearly a charity event.
“How do we know he's not a serial killer?” I tried weakly.
“Because I've known him for three years, and the most violent thing he's ever done is choreograph fight scenes where no one actually gets hurt.” Sean pulled the phone back to his face. “Also, he fosters senior cats. Serial killers don't foster senior cats, Gryff.”
Fuck. I couldn't find a single legitimate reason to reject him.
“He seems...” I swallowed hard. “Fine.”
“Fine? He's perfect. He's confident, funny, emotionally intelligent, and completely unfazed by tall, muscled, athletic women. He dated a six-foot blonde goddess of a volleyball player for two years.”
Each word felt like a nail in the coffin of my stupid, hopeless feelings for Artie.
“Great,” I managed. “Set it up.”
“Done. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock, Constellation in West Hollywood.” Sean looked entirely too pleased with himself. “You're welcome.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I ended the call and immediately wanted to throw my phone across the room.
Why had I agreed to this mutual dating setup thing? Oh right, because Artie had asked for my help. Because she'd looked at me with those blue eyes and said she trusted me to find her someone good. Because I was apparently a masochist who enjoyed watching the woman I was falling for date other people.
My phone buzzed with a text from Artie.
ARTIE
Your date is all set. You're going to LOVE him. Meeting at Constellation at 7. Ren says he's perfect for you!!!!
That was entirely too many exclamation marks. She was clearly joyfully excited about her plan. I wasn't going to be the one to rain on her dating parade.
You didn't send me a picture or anything
It's more fun as a surprise. Trust me, he's exactly what you need.
Great. I was so looking forward to a double blind date. To watch Artie with Rob the Perfect while some stranger tried to make conversation with me. This was going to be the longest night of my life.
I arrived at Constellation ten minutes early, wearing the dark jeans and button-down Artie had insisted made me look “approachable but still hot.” Not that it mattered what I lookedlike when I'd be spending the evening watching her with someone else.
The restaurant was one of those trendy LA places where they cared more about how the food photographed than whether humans could actually sit comfortably. Every surface was either marble, exposed brick, or Edison bulbs. The hostess looked like she weighed less than my left earlobe.
“Reservation for Kingman,” I said.
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, yes, Mr. Kingman. Your party is already here. Right this way.”
I followed her through the maze of tiny tables and decorative chairs that looked like they belonged in a dollhouse, and there was Artie, standing by a table, looking absolutely stunning in a dark blue dress that made her eyes pop. Her hair was down in waves, and she'd done that thing with her makeup that made her look like she was glowing from within.
And right behind her was Harry the cameraman and, joy of joys, Sloane. She gave me a little finger wave and I tight-lipped smiled. She'd been very insistent on recording every second of this date. Had even made me and Artie send contact info for our dates in advance so they could sign the filming releases before the date.
“Gryff,” Sloane waved me over. “You look great. Your date's running a few minutes late, but he texted that he's almost here. I'm anxious to see if it's love at first sight. He's adorable and apparently doesn't follow sports at all, so he won't care that you're famous.”
I glanced over at Artie who shrugged and smiled. “I think you'll like him. Ren assured me he isn't a serial killer.”
