“This is the last time I’m letting you set me up on a blind date.”
My twin sister, Emily, rolls her eyes as she reaches across my lap and pushes the passenger door open. “You said that the last two times. And quit fussing with your dress,” she says, slapping my hand away from the belt she insisted I wear.
“It’ll make you look more sophisticated,” she said. When all I really wanted to do was throw on a pair of skinny jeans, an oversized off-the-shoulder sweater, and call it good.
Maybe that’s why I’m still single.
“This time, I mean it. No more blind dates, and you’re never dressing me again.”
“What’s wrong with the outfit I picked out?”
“Nothing, except that it makes me look just like you.”
“Newsflash: we’re identical twins. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’ll always look like me. Now, get in there and have fun.”
I frown and look toward the front of the restaurant.
Somewhere behind that fancy glass door is a man of my sister’s choosing. He could be a complete douchebag, but maybe, just maybe, he’s Mr. Right. The chances are slim, considering Emily’s track record with blind date setups. However, she managed to snag herself a good man, so I’m still hopeful she can snag me one, as well.
“Come on, Lizzie.” Emily nudges my leg. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“Everything,” Sarah mumbles. I peer into the back seat at our friend as she picks at her chipped red nail polish. It takes a second, but she eventually realizes her mistake, glances up, and grimaces. “What I mean is—”
“I know what you meant.” I share a knowing look with my sister. “Even Sarah knows this is going to be a disaster. Do you remember the last time you set me up on a blind date?”
“I do. It was Gerald, and he was a very nice man.”
“Actually, the last blind date was Jacob,” Sarah corrects. “And if I remember correctly, the first thing he did when he sat down at the dinner table was ask Liz to make a fist.”
I cringe at the memory of holding my fist in the air and watching in horror as he tried to wrap his insanely large lips around it to see if it would fit into his mouth. Try being the operative word because I was having none of that.
“Oh, that’s right.” At least Emily has the decency to look apologetic. “I forgot about that. Well, I’m almost one hundred percent positive that Timothy won’t try to stick your fist into his mouth.”
“But if he’s hunky, and you’re lucky, maybe he’ll go for a different body part.” Sarah waggles her eyebrows and then laughs. “What can I say? I’m sex-deprived. My love life these days is as pathetic as yours.”
“My love life isn’t pathetic, it’s disastrous. Big difference.”
“It doesn’t have to be pathetic or disastrous,” Emily says. “You just haven’t found the right man.”
“I don’t need a man.”
Emily lifts an eyebrow.
“I’m happy,” I say, unsure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
Sarah’s eyes soften, but Emily doesn’t look as convinced. “I know you are.”
Why wouldn’t I be? I have a great job, a wonderful family, two of the best neighbors a girl could ask for—one of whom is my very best friend—and a loving, albeit overbearing sister.
Life is great. Life is greater than great. And when I do find a good man, he’ll be creamy icing on the already delectable cake that is my life.
“You know,” Emily starts, suddenly interested in the hem of her shirt. “It would be easier for you to find love if you didn’t spend all of your time with Aiden.”
“Here we go.” Sarah sits back in the seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “I knew this was coming.”
“I don’t spend all my time with Aiden.”
“Right,” Emily scoffs. “And I’m the next presidential candidate.”
“You’d actually make a great president,” Sarah suggests.
Emily smiles. “I know I would, but we aren’t talking about me.”
“For once,” I murmur.
“I’m going to ignore that because I love you.” Emily turns in her seat to fully face me. “Where were you last night?”
“I went grocery shopping.”
“Alone?”
“Aiden went with me, but he had to get groceries too, and we live right next to each other. It makes sense to ride together.”
Sarah nods. “Makes perfect sense.”
“Wednesday night?” Emily asks.
“We had a darts tournament.” I stare at my sister, who lifts a condescending brow. “What was I supposed to do? We’re on a team together.”
“My point exactly. And what about Tuesday night?”
“I took Edna to trivia night at the Senior Center like I do every Tuesday.”
“Who went with you?”
I roll my eyes. “Aiden.”
“And after trivia night?”
I blow out a breath and look straight ahead. “We dropped Edna off and went to Eddie’s for dinner.”
When I glance at my sister, she smiles smugly. “What about Monday night?”
“I had a date.”
“Brad,” Sarah says. “Things were going great until he whipped out his phone.”
I cringe.
“What was wrong with his phone?” Emily asks.
“It was wrapped in duct tape.”
“Why?”
Sarah chuckles from the back seat. “So the aliens and the government couldn’t listen in on their date.”
Emily’s eyes widen. “Okay. Wow. We’re going to talk more about that later, but back to my point. What time did your date end?”
“I was at the apartment by eight.”
“Whose apartment?”
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
She grins. “Whose apartment?”
“Aiden’s,” I say, pressing my lips together. “But I was out of ice cream, and he had a whole carton of my favorite flavor.”
“Good man.”
“Stop encouraging her.” Emily glares at Sarah before turning back to me. “Do you see a pattern here?”
I toss my hands into the air. “He’s my best friend.”
“I resent that. We shared a placenta for nine months for God’s sake. I should be your BFF.”
Emily swears she isn’t jealous of Aiden, but every once in a while, the green-eyed monster living inside of her rears its ugly head.
“You have Jonathan,” I say, reminding her of her gorgeous and equally sweet husband.
“And me,” Sarah says. “You have me.”
Emily smiles at Sarah and then brings her eyes back to me. She takes a breath and then blows it out. “I’m done lecturing you for the night, mostly because your date starts in five minutes. But think about what I said.”
“I will.” And then I’ll forget you said it because no way will I give up my time with Aiden.
I step out of the car and then bend down to the open window. “You know, maybe you should arrange a blind date for Sarah.”
Sarah’s eyes widen. “Not a chance in hell.”
“That’s a great idea,” Emily croons.
Good, now maybe she’ll focus on someone else for a change. Smiling, I turn toward the entrance of the restaurant and send up a quick prayer.
I know I haven’t been to church in a few weeks, but would it kill you to toss me a bone? And by bone, I mean a successful, funny, smart, kind man. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and take a step forward. A man in a crisp navy-blue suit smiles warmly and opens the front door.
“Welcome to Aroma.”
“Thank you.”
He nods, and when I step through the door, I’m greeted by another man in a similar suit.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation tonight?”
“I think so,” I say, looking around the dimly lit restaurant. “I’m here to meet someone.”
“Oh, okay.” The host turns toward the restaurant and follows my gaze. “Do you see whomever you’re meeting?”
“Well, no, I don’t exactly know what he looks like.”
When I return my gaze to the host, he’s grinning. “A blind date? How exciting.”
“Not really.” I place a hand on my stomach and try to calm my nerves. “His name is Timothy. I don’t know anything else—”
“Say no more. I know exactly who you’re talking about.”
“You do?”
“He came in earlier and, trust me, sweetheart, you have nothing to be nervous about.” He winks, shimmies his hips, and nods toward the dining room. “Your date has manners, and he’s easy on the eyes. Can’t get much better than that. Follow me.”
Some of the tension I’ve been holding onto drains from my body as I follow the man through the main dining area to a small room tucked in the back. I’m a few feet from a table in the corner when a man looks up and spots me.
The first thing I notice is his easy smile and light blue eyes. When he stands to greet me, I get a glimpse of the whole package, and holy smokes what a package.
Strong arms barely hidden by the white button-up shirt he’s wearing, broad chest, and long legs.
Well done, Emily.
“Told ya so,” the host whispers before looking at my date. “Your waiter will be right with you.”
Timothy steps toward me. “You must be Lizzie.”
He reaches for my hand, and I slip my fingers around his for a quick shake.
“And you must be Timothy. My sister has told me nothing about you.”
He laughs, pulls out a chair, and waits for me to sit before taking his own seat.
“She didn’t tell me much about you either. I’m honestly a little embarrassed. I had no idea Emily had an identical twin.”
I scrunch my nose. “You didn’t?”
He shakes his head and takes a sip of water. “She just told me that you were her little sister.”
“Of course, she did,” I say, pursing my lips. “She’s older than me by four and a half minutes.”
We both chuckle, and I decide right away that I like his laugh: throaty and deep. It doesn’t give me butterflies, but it’s nice to listen to.
“So, Timothy, how do you know my sister?”
“Wow, she really didn’t tell you anything, did she?”
I shake my head and reach for the glass of water sitting in front of me.
“I’m her gynecologist.”
Water spews from my mouth. I sputter and reach for the napkin to clean up my mess, but Timothy beats me to it.
“She probably should’ve told you that,” he says, wiping the table in front of me.
“It would’ve been nice. Hey, sis, just a heads up, your date has seen my vagina.”
“If it makes you feel better, I see so many vaginas, they all eventually look alike.”
I pick up my glass, wishing it was filled with something a tad stronger to get me through this conversation. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“You’re right,” he chuckles again. “They don’t all look alike, but let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you. What do you do?”
Okay, I can do this. Who cares if he’s had his hand in my sister’s vagina? He’s probably seen her breasts, too.
Wait…that means he’s basically seen my breasts.
And my vagina.
The bloke has seen me naked, and we’ve barely made it past hello.
“Lizzie?”
“Sorry.” I shake the thought away. “I have a degree in early childhood education.”
“You’re a teacher? That’s wonderful. What grade?”
“Preschool, actually. I would like to teach Kindergarten, but finding a job hasn’t been easy. I’ve put in a few applications for the next school year, so fingers crossed.”
“I’m sure you will find something. Do you like teaching?”
“I really do. There’s nothing better than working with kids. How about you, do you enjoy your job?”
Timothy leans back in his seat. “Most of the time, yes.”
“I hear a but in there. Tell me more,” I say, grateful that we seem to have moved out of the awkwardness and into an easier conversation.
“My job is demanding. It doesn’t leave much time for this.” He waves his hand between us. “Dating is difficult. My schedule is busy on a good day and chaotic—”
His words are cut off by the shrill sound of his cell ringing. It skids across the table with each vibration until he picks it up. He studies the screen and then looks at me.
“I’m sorry, I need to take this call. It’s work.”
“Please, by all means.”
He excuses himself from the table and waits until he’s out of earshot before answering. A few seconds later, a man approaches the table, tops off our water glasses, and hands me two menus.
“Good evening, my name is Ethan, I’ll be your waiter tonight. I apologize that it took me so long to get over here.”
Ethan is tall and lean with light blond hair and twin dimples that I’m certain earn him a hell of a lot of tips.
“It’s no problem at all.”
“Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of merlot, please.”
“And for your husband?” He glances in the direction that Timothy walked.
“Oh, he isn’t my husband. And I have no idea what he likes to drink.”
“That’s okay. I’ll grab your merlot and check back in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes pass, and by the time Ethan drops my wine off, there’s still no sign of Timothy.
“Sorry if I’m being nosy, but you said the man you’re here with isn’t your husband. Is he your brother by chance?”
“No, we’re on a blind date.”
Ethan frowns, casts a glance over his shoulder, and then looks back at me. “I’m going to check on my other tables. I’ll swing back by in a minute and maybe your date will be back.”
I hope. I look around, but there’s no sign of him. Maybe he had to head to the hospital, I think to myself at the same time I see him striding across the room.
He looks flustered as he pushes his fingers through his hair and sits down.
“Is everything okay?”
“With what?” He reaches for his water, takes a big gulp, and sets the glass on the table.
“Work?”
“Oh, that. Yes. Everything is fine.”
“Really? Because you were gone for a while. I thought maybe you had to go to the hospital or something.”
“Sorry. This is why I don’t get a chance to date much. My job is demanding. I’m on call a lot. I’ve got four women in labor as we speak, and as soon as I hung up the phone with the nurse, another call came through.”
“Wow. Are you sure you don’t need to go?”
“Nah, they’re all still a good eight to ten hours away from delivering.”
“You hope.”
“You’re right, I do. Now, where were we?”
Timothy reaches across the table and sets his hand on mine. My first instinct is to pull away. I mean, I barely know this guy, but his skin is warm and soft, and it’s been forever since I’ve been touched by a normal, smart, good-looking man, so I decide to leave it.
Before I can respond, he spots my glass of wine and frowns.
“The waiter was already here?”
“Yes. Sorry, I would’ve ordered you a drink, but I wasn’t sure what you would want.”
“It’s okay.”
When I see Ethan at a nearby table, I raise my hand to flag him down. He smiles at me from across the room, finishes what he’s doing, and then comes over to us.
“Good evening, sir. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
Timothy’s face pales when he looks at Ethan. His lips part, but nothing comes out as Ethan peers down at him.
“A crown and coke, perhaps?” Ethan questions with a razor-sharp edge to his voice.
The air around us thickens with an uncomfortable tension while we wait for Timothy to answer.
“No.” Timothy clears his throat. He’s sweating bullets as he looks to me and then back at Ethan. “I’ll have the same as my date.”
“Which one?” Ethan mumbles beneath his breath. The words are so soft that I almost don’t hear them.
“Excuse me?” Timothy asks, his face going hard as stone.
“I said, merlot. Good choice. I’ll be right back with your drink and to take your order.”
“Thank you.”
Timothy pulls his hand from mine. “I don’t like him.”
“That was a little awkward.”
“Forget about him. What are you going to order?”
We both grab a menu, and I peruse the various entrée options. “It’s between the chicken Alfredo and the homemade lasagna.”
Timothy closes his menu, takes mine, and sets them down. “How about you order one and I’ll order the other? That way, you can try both.”
“Perfect.”
Ethan brings Timothy’s drink, takes our order, and walks away, but not before giving my date another hard look.
That’s weird. Ethan seemed so nice earlier.
“Tell me about your family,” I say. “Are you from around here?”
“I’m not. I’m from Tampa, which is where my parents and two brothers live.”
“How on Earth did you end up in Bourbon, Illinois?” Nestled fifteen minutes outside of Chicago, it allows for easy access to the city, while maintaining a somewhat small-town life. Don’t get me wrong, I love my hometown, but it’s a far cry from Tampa. “I’d take palm trees and sand over the city any day.”
“This is where the jobs were at the time. I got in with University hospital, and the rest is history.”
“How long have—”
Once again, our conversation is cut off by his cell phone, only this time, Timothy doesn’t say a word, he simply grabs his phone and walks away from the table.
“Well, this is fun.” I take a sip of my wine, and then another and another. By the time the glass is empty, there’s still no Timothy, and Ethan is placing our food on the table.
He sets a steaming hot plate in front of me and holds out another glass of merlot.
“Oh, one is my limit, but thank you anyway.”
“I didn’t bring it for you to drink,” he says, handing me the glass.
I have no idea what’s going on, but for some reason, I’m compelled to take the glass.
“What’s your name?”
“Lizzie,” I answer, unsure of why he’s asking.
“You’re beautiful, Lizzie.”
“Thank you?” Normally, I’d love a nice compliment from a guy who looks like Ethan. Still, considering I’m on a date, it seems a bit inappropriate.
“And you seem like a smart woman.”
I nod. “I am.”
“Then why are you here with that douchebag?”
My eyes widen, and I immediately go to set the glass down and give him a piece of my mind. This might not be the best date I’ve ever been on, but it’s certainly not the worst. And I like Timothy. He’s nice, smart, and yes, he seems to work a lot, but I think a good work ethic is a great quality in a man.
“He’s not a douchebag.”
“Then why is he at a table on the opposite side of the restaurant with another woman?” he says, pointing toward the right.
“What?”
“I could be way off here, but he’s eating dinner, laughing, and carrying on with another woman. When I walked by a few minutes ago, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering God knows what into each other’s ears.”
My blood boils. No wonder he’s been gone for so long; the asshole is on two dates.
“Let me guess, he’s drinking crown and coke?”
Ethan nods, and his face softens. “I wanted to say something while he was here, but I would’ve ended up punching the guy, and I really need this job.”
“You would’ve punched him?”
“In a heartbeat. It’s men like him that give the rest of us a bad name.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I’d do it for any woman.”
“Right. Of course. Thank you for letting me know.”
I scoot out my chair, nudging Ethan back in the process, and stand from the table. With the full wine glass in my hand and a whole lot of courage, I march across the dining room.
Sure enough, there he is. Handsome, smart, two-timing jerk. His date notices me before he does. In fact, the asshole doesn’t notice me until I lift the glass of wine and dump it over his head.
He coughs and flails while his date screeches. Everyone in the room is staring, but I don’t give a damn.
“Lizzie, I can explain.” With wine dripping from his hair, Timothy stands up. “I told you, it’s hard to date in my line of work and—”
“Save it.”
I turn, but he grabs my arm. The next thing I know, Ethan is towering behind me. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let her arm go.”
Timothy’s lips pinch together in a tight line. He’s probably not used to taking orders from anyone, but Doctor Douchebag follows Ethan’s command.
I ignore the stares and murmurs as Ethan leads me back to my table. “I’m sorry about the mess,” I say, dropping onto the chair. The food is still steaming hot and looks yummy. It’s a shame I won’t be eating it.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ethan pushes a bundle of silverware toward me and smiles. “Eat. It’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Lizzie.”
I eat in silence. Ethan refills my water three more times, and when I’m stuffed full, he approaches my table and sits down, sans the grey vest he had been wearing earlier.
“Officially off the clock, huh?”
“How’d you know?”
I nod toward the vest in his hand. “I used to be a server.”
He smiles knowingly. “How was the food?”
“Delicious.”
“Next time, you should come here by yourself and let me buy you dinner.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Absolutely not. That would be rude after what happened to you tonight. Plus, asking you out gives you the chance to say no.”
I grin. “You’re smooth…”
Ethan smiles and hands me a piece of paper. “Just in case you decide to take me up on the offer,” he whispers before standing and walking away.
I look down at the yellow Post-it Note.
Not every guy is a dick. Let me prove it to you.
Below the scribbled handwriting is his number.
Smiling, I shove the note into my purse and then pull out my phone and text my sister.
Me: It’s time to find a new OBGYN.
Her reply is instant.
Emily: Damn. That bad?
Me: Worse.
Emily: Men suck. I’m on my way to get you.
Me: Nah. It’s pretty out. I think I’ll walk.