Page 4 of Valentine's Day Daddy

“Easy for you to say. You’re dating the most perfect man on the planet.”

“Yeah, I am, huh?” she replies. “But that just proves my point. I was patient and kept putting myself out there and I landed a good one.”

“Did you though? Put yourself out there, I mean,” I say. “I mean he's the Executive Chef of the restaurant you work at, so if you're claiming you put yourself out there, you didn't have to go very far."

She laughs. “Okay, that’s fair. But that just means you need to start throwing a line into the waters of places you’re comfortable. Places you know,” she says. “I think the odds are better that you’re going to meet somebody more compatible with you if you meet them at a place where you’re relaxed and able to just be yourself.”

“Have you seen the dorks that work in advertising? I’ve met most of the guys who work at my agency and all I can say is, hard pass.”

She sighs heavily. “You’re never going to find somebody good with this whole Negative Nancy attitude you have going on.”

“I don’t think I’m going to find anybody, period.”

“Again, not with that attitude,” she says patiently.

“Let’s face it. I think you may have snagged the last decent man in the universe,” I muse.

“Nah. I have a feeling there’s at least one more out there,” she replies. “And I know he’s out there just waiting for you.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“I believe it enough for the both of us,” she states. “And you know what? I just had a brilliant idea.

“Oh, God,” I reply. “You know what? Forget everything. It’s all good. I’m good. And I’m suddenly feeling very optimistic about my relationship prospects.”

Emma slapped my hand playfully. “Why would you say something so hurtful?”

“You know those oldI Love Lucyepisodes where Lucy says she’s got an idea and then everything goes sideways and gets a hundred times worse? It’s like that.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she says with a laugh. “This Friday, I am taking you to an event being hosted by Soulmates.com—”

“The dating site? Hard pass,” I cut her off. “Why are you even going to some dating site deal anyway? You’ve already got the perfect man.”

“I got an invitation emailed to me and I was going to take Cheryl. Her romantic life is even worse than yours.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “You should do that.”

"But she's not in crisis like you clearly are, so this Friday, you and I are going down there and you're going to put yourself out there."

“It sounds like you’re going to auction me off like livestock.”

“That’s not out of the question either.”

“I appreciate the thought but—”

"But you'd be excited to go. Perfect," Emma says.

“That’s not actually where I was going with that.”

“You should probably reconsider then because if you try to duck out on me, I am going to start having everybody we know set you up with their friends, cousins, roommates—everybody,” she threatens. "I'll also write your phone number in every bathroom of every bar I go to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” she replies with a mischievous grin. “And I think you know I would.”

I grimace knowing she would absolutely follow through on her threat. Emma has always been the one to push me outside my comfort zone and do things I wouldn’t normally do. She’s adventurous and I’m just… not. I never have been. I like predictability. I like routine and I’ve never been a big fan of surprises. And I sure as heck don’t like the idea of going to some event being put on by a dating website.

The thing that burns my butt though is that I know I’m going to end up going. Emma has always held this sway over me that encourages me to be a little more adventurous. That makes me think I can do whatever harebrained, cockamamie thing she has us doing. And if I’m being honest, most of the time, I come away from these things glad to have had the experience. But getting me to do things in the first place is what’s been tough.

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