15

“So, Abi, how have your experiences been so far with all this online dating business?”

“Okay, I suppose.”

“Met any nice men? Other than me, of course.”

“Nice? Sure, I suppose you could say that. Just … not for me.”

“Good answer. Very diplomatic.”

“What about you, what have your experiences been like so far?”

“Absolutely fucking terrible.” Steven laughed. Abi joined in, feeling at ease in the company of her date. He sipped his Double Jack, sighed audibly, and smacked his lips. “No disrespect to my dates, of course. I’m sure they said the same things about me.”

“Ah, surely not. What’s not to like?”

“You’re too kind, Abi Ansell.” He beamed a wide smile that Abi couldn’t help but reciprocate. He had thin lips and a weak, stubbled chin, but when he smiled, his face came to life—dimples popping on his cheeks, his eyes bright. He had been waiting for her outside the restaurant and greeted her with a smile as soon as she stepped out of the Uber, right before he closed the door for her, kissed her on the cheek, and ushered her inside.

Abi instantly felt at ease, like she had known him for years. She hadn’t felt that way with any of the others. Most of the time she was anxious, nervous, and that made her feel uncomfortable and do stupid things. She often spent the night speed-eating, clock-watching, and desperately trying to fill awkward silences with everything from mouthfuls of complimentary bread to small talk about the weather.

Steven was different. Relaxed, confident, charming—all traits that made her feel comfortable in her own skin.

“I have to say, though,” he added, “I’m not usually this forward. I have never gone on a date with someone this quickly after meeting them. Hand on heart.” He placed his hand on his chest, his wide-childish grin still beaming.

“Me neither,” Abi said, placing her hand on her chest and laughing along with him. “And don’t worry, sometimes it’s good to be forward. Life’s too short to mess around. As my grandmother says, ‘Embarrassment is better than regret; if you want to do something, do it.’”

“Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Smart, maybe. Insane and obscene, definitely. She always says that if you’re not fucking, sleeping, dancing, or drinking, you’re just wasting time.” Abi paused and flushed a little, adding, “Pardon my French.”

“Not exactly the sort of inspirational quote you’ll see on your auntie’s Facebook timeline, but I can’t disagree. I like the sound of your grandmother. If this doesn’t work out between us, you’ll have to hook me up with her,” he winked. Abi laughed.

“But seriously,” Steven continued. “Moving this quickly is very unusual for me. I just—I don’t know. The last girl I spoke to—” he paused to check himself, leaning close, “—you don’t mind me talking about previous dates, do you? That’s not uncouth, is it?”

“No, no, of course not. Go for it.”

He leaned back, smiled, and took another sip of his drink. “Okay then. Sometimes I get ahead of myself—do you want another drink?”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

He smiled again. “Anyway, so what was I saying—ah yes, my date. She was great, or at least she seemed great when we spoke online. We sent messages back and forth for weeks, maybe even months. We spent a lot of time asking each other questions, learning about one another, and so on. When we finally arranged to meet …” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “We had nothing to say to one another. Like, at all.”

“Really?”

Steven nodded. “Barely spoke a word. Turns out, there was no chemistry there. We’d both spent weeks sending occasional messages to each other, going through the usual questions—jobs, aspirations, education, family, political preferences. It was like we were just checking them off as we went, never realizing that there wasn’t any kind of spark and overlooking the fact we didn’t really have anything in common.”

“That must have been a painful night.”

“Oh yes. I ate so fast I had the hiccups for a week.”

“Well, let’s hope that’s not an issue tonight.” Abi reached for her glass of red wine. The waiter had brought their drinks as soon as they’d sat down, right after Steven took her coat, placed it on the back of the chair, and then waited for her to sit. Abi wasn’t big on chivalry—it made her feel awkward and she didn’t know where to put herself—but there was something about Steven’s charm that put her at ease. They had spoken very briefly through instant messages earlier in the day, getting to know each other with a two-hour chat that took place when Abi should have been working. They spoke about random things, pointless things, funny things, but throughout their conversation, he had surreptitiously pillaged her for information, learning what she liked to drink, where she liked to eat, when she was free.

“Forgive me if this sounds forward,” he had said to her eventually, interrupting a conversation about a recent meme that they both found humorous, “but would you like to come to dinner with me tonight?”

As soon as she agreed, surprising herself with her own willingness, he informed her that he had already booked a restaurant. He found one that served pad thai, her favorite dish, and he also booked a table that was tucked away at the back of the restaurant. Either he wanted some privacy, or he had picked up on her social anxiety and had done it for her benefit. In any case, she was delighted.

She raised her glass toward him. “Here’s to a night free of hiccups and banal banter.”

He lifted his glass. “To being hiccup-free,” he echoed. “Cheers.”

They clinked glasses, locked stares, and Abi felt an immediate warmth rush through her body.

“So, tell me, Abi, what’s the worst date that you’ve had?” Steven sipped his drink and stopped, glass still raised. “And please don’t say this one. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a grown man cry but …”

Abi giggled, an instinctive reaction that surprised her. She wasn’t a giggler. She didn’t even know she was capable of giggling.

“No, definitely not this one,” she reassured him. “I don’t know …” Her eyes looked off into the distance. There was only one date, one story, that she could tell. She’d been on bad dates, there was no doubt about that, but nothing compared to her date with Robert and nothing she could say would top the things that had happened since that awkward night.

“Well, there is one.”

Steven opened his hands expressively, “Hit me with it. Let’s see if I can top it.”

“It’s a bit of a strange one.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ve heard worse.”

She shook her head, a deadpan expression on her face.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

His gleaming demeanor shifted somewhat when he noted her stern expression. He clearly thought that he had spoken out of turn, touched on a traumatic event and triggered her in some way. Abi broke into a smile to put him at ease, “It’s not tragic or anything like that,” she told him. “It’s just very weird and creepy. You might think I’m insane if I tell you.”

He raised a curious eyebrow and joked, “Who’s to say I don’t already think that?”

“Tofu and peanut pad thai?” Abi’s laughter was cut short by the waiter, who stood over the table with a plate of food in each hand. She held up her hand and moved back, watching with delight as he put the plate of steaming food down in front of her. She had barely eaten all day. The breaking news that interrupted her mid-morning conversation with Steven had killed her appetite.

After that, she had been so preoccupied with their conversation—not to mention the preparation that followed as she put on her makeup, fixed her hair, and spent over an hour finding the perfect outfit—that food had been an afterthought. Only when she saw the food in front of her and felt her stomach contract as if grasping for the plate did she realize how hungry she was.

“And yours, sir.” The waiter placed the second plate in front of Steven, said, “Enjoy your meal,” and then left.

“Saved by the bell,” Steven said, holding out his glass again. “Cheers—here’s to a delicious meal with great company.”

They clinked glasses again and Abi delighted in sharing another smile with him.

“And to hearing all about your creepy date another time.”

“Definitely,” Abi said, with a firm nod. “Be best if you get to know me first, though, otherwise you may run away.”

He had a mouthful of food, his eyes wide as he stared at her, chomping hungrily and shaking his head to suggest that he wouldn’t run. Abi giggled, again, only this time she didn’t feel embarrassed.