Page 29 of Betting on the Best Friend
“It was fiiiiine,” I say like my brothers used to when my mom told them to take out the trash, “but not fine!” I give thatfinea chirpy tone.
He nods that he gets it. “It was drinks and a bar game, right?”
“Kind of. The pub has an event every week called First Date Tuesday. They invite people who are going on a first date to have it there. You download their app, connect with your date, and then do their questions and games and share answers. They’re timed to finish after ninety minutes, so if it’s awful, you know the misery is coming to an end.”
“I heard about this place from a girl at the gym.”
“Because she wants you to take her? Sounds like a pick me girl.”
He gives me a confused look. “No, it came up in conversation. Smart idea.”
Right. Guess I did jump to a random conclusion.
“Glenn agrees it’s smart. So smart that when I made a trip to the restroom, one of the waitresses told me I was the fourth person she’d seen him bring.”
“How come this dude isn’t getting past first dates? Red flag.”
“Doesn’t matter. We didn’t have much in common. Without the prompts in the app, we would have run out of things to say. And he does dress like a dad.”
“Tell me the name of the place again. I’m going to check it out.”
There it is again, that knee-jerk territorial reaction, like I don’t want to give him the name. That doesn’t even make sense. I’ve only gone to the pub once. It’s not like it’s “my” place. “Doodles,” I say, choosing to be normal. Or at least act like it. “Are you taking Sydney?”
“Maybe. But she’s pretty easy to talk to so far.”
Super. Glad to hear it.
I stand and smooth my bright blue pencil skirt. I’ve paired it with a black and white polka-dot shirt, and a skinny belt andballet flats in fuchsia patent leather. I feel like a 1940s Wonder Woman. “I’m going to go do the job I’m underpaid for. Care to join me?”
“I need to touch base with Sandy about the library conference first.”
I give him a salute and head to the fiction section, hoping he didn’t pick up on my relief that he didn’t follow. We’re off-kilter this morning. Or maybe it’s just me. But why?
After thinking about it while I turn on the computers, I reach a conclusion: I shouldn’t feel threatened because he has easy conversations with Sydney. He has them with all my roommates too. If he gels with her that well, it’s a good sign she’ll fit right in. If she does, it means she’s cool, which means she’s good for Charlie.
That’s why I give her a genuine smile when she walks in shortly before noon. “Hey, Sydney.”
“Hey, Ruby.”
“Charlie is in nonfiction somewhere if that’s who you’re looking for.”
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later, they walk back to the reference desk together, where she waves at me.
“Bye, Ruby.”
“Bye, Sydney.” As soon as she’s out of earshot, I turn to Charlie, who’s smiling at nothing. “What was that all about?”
“She wanted to know if I’d be interested in getting together for dinner or something.”
“You said yes, right? Yes to both. Yes to dinner and yes to ‘or something’? You’re going on a second date?” I demand.
“Yes.” His smile widens. “And yes. But not a second date. Lunch doesn’t count. That was a hang. This is a first date.”
I groan. “I’m so jealous that you get to go out with someone you’ve at least met before, who you’re sure wants to be there.”
“That’s true, but making it a date makes it feel . . . formal?” He takes his seat and wakes up his monitor. “What would you think about doing a double date?”
