Page 13 of Just for Fun
He smiles in understanding. “You’d just have to call for help, Z. Someone would be around who would know what to do. Or, in situations more intense than this one, you call nine-one-one.”
“I will,” I promise with every fiber in my body.
Owen clears his throat a few times before taking a sip of water, then pressing a fist to his chest again.
“You need to warn me beforehand when you’re about to say crazy things to me, Z. I about choked to death,” he laughs.
I know he is teasing me, but I don’t understand what for.
“What crazy things?”
“Uh, like you saying you have an interview process to find a date.”
Now that I get why he’s amused, I am offended. I cross my arms over my chest, staring him down, but he doesn’t care. Instead, he laughs some more.
“That’s not how you find a date, Zara. This is not a job.”
I roll my eyes at him. “It’s not like I’d be seeing him after I bring him to this party.”
Owen is once again taken aback by my words. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just looking for someone to prove to you that I can,” I shrug. “I don’t need to see this person past the Fourth of July party.”
His eyes widen in shock. That’s quickly replaced by pity. I don’t like that at all, especially since I don’t understand why.
“Z,” Owen sighs. “When I dared you to bring a date to this party, it was more of a push for you to get out there, find someone who makes you happy.”
Sadness now mars his features. He definitely feels sorry for me. I don’t think I like that.
“But I am happy,” I insist. “I love my life.”
Onwe opens his mouth to say something but then changes his mind. He smiles and pats the table gently, like he’s touching my hand in comfort.
“That’s really good to hear, Z. I want you to be happy.”
The rest of our lunch date goes a little smoother. He shares some stories from the station, and I tell him about my latest client at work. By the time we have to leave, I feel better, while at the same time, I have this weight in the pit of my stomach.
His words stay with me for the rest of the day and until I get home. I park the car and run to the door, feeling out of breath until I am finally inside the house. Going against my usual habits, I drop my purse to the floor and drop in a kitchen chair. My laptop is where I left it last night, plugged in and ready to go.
Before opening the lid, I take a deep breath in and shake my hands nervously. This is so unlike me. I am normally collected and fear nothing, mostly because everything is planned to the last second. There are no surprises, ever.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
I open the lid and enter my password. The screen comes to life right away, and I waste no time clicking on theHolidatesapp that I saved when I created my account with them. I hold my breath as I log in, and my heart beats a hundred miles a minute when I notice that I have messages in my inbox.
I don’t waste any time thinking about it because that would just send another wave of panic through me, and I can’t afford to be scared. I got this.
At first, I just blink at the messages waiting for me there. It looks like I have six of them even though I contacted five people. That’s strange.
Clicking on the first message received, I once again take a deep breath in, focusing on staying positive and having no doubt that one of these candidates have responded appropriately to my questionnaire.
That is why I cannot believe my own eyes when I finally make out the words on the screen.
I’m not sure if this questionnaire is supposed to be a joke. If yes, I can tell you that this is not my type of humor so I will have to decline your request of interest. Best of luck.
That is not what I had expected at all. I don’t know what could’ve been funny about the questions I sent. They are standard questions I would ask anyone who would be involved in any capacity in my personal life.
I click on the next response that simply says,No.
