Page 28 of The Dating Mishapp

I glare at Kylie. “I swear to God, I’m going to stick a Tide POD in your mouth!”

“What?” she squawks and rolls her eyes. “Tits isn’t even a bad word!”

I thank Britni for the adjustment and spin around to admire how well the dress fits. The ruching accentuates my waist and mytits. The word feels foreign, even in my head.

Kylie chooses a backless, hot pink dress and killer shoes to match.

“What’s wrong now?” she asks when she notices my expression.

I tilt my head and pretend to cry. “You’re too beautiful for your own good. No man will ever be good enough for you!”

She pulls me into a hug. “Same goes for you!”

After depositing our purchases into the trunk, we cross the street and walk towards Marcelo’s. Suddenly remembering that Tre asked me to meet him at eight, I suggest we go to Aldo’s for pizza and a salad instead. Although he has no idea who I am or what I look like, he might recognize Kylie. Part of me wants to go in there and confront him for pursuing both of us, but then I’d have to explain to my daughter why I joined the dating app and continued some correspondence with a man she likes. What a nightmare! What did I get myself into?!

Over dinner, Kylie tells me all about the guys she’s been talking to. They don’t call it dating as we did before.

“It’s nothing serious. We’re just having fun!”

“What happened to the guy you were talking to on that dating app? The one with the dog.”

Her smile widens. “He’s great. I mean, he works a lot, but he’s still coming to the event.”

I choke on a sip of water. “He is? Wait, I thought you guys ended things?”

“No, I never said that. Where would you get that idea from?”

Because he told me he ended things with you.

“Ireallylike him, and I hope you like him, too.”

Like him?I can’t stand Tre. He’s a lying dirtbag.

When Kylie excuses herself to use the bathroom, I wave the waitress over and ask for our check.

“Oh, you’re all set. It’s already been paid.”

“It was?” I ask, scanning the restaurant for someone I might know. I don’t recognize any faces who offer such a kind gesture.

“Ready?” Kylie asks upon her return, slipping into her jacket.

The waitress hitches her finger. “She did.”

“You paid for dinner?”

“Yeah, you paid for my dress, so I paid for the pizza.”

I huff. “Ky, how many times do I have to tell you to save your money?”

“Mom, it’s not a big deal. I’ll start saving tomorrow because I’m probably going to drop a few at Marcelo’s tonight.”

I tamp down the anger rising in me. “Marcelo’s? Who are you going there with?”

“Friends. You wanna come?”

I twist my lips. “I don’t drink wine.”

She laughs. “They have beer, too.”

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