“Do you see what I’m dealing with? Trust me, you don’t want us sharing a meal together, it’ll distract the other people around us. All we do is bicker.”
“Then we’ll give you one of our new private tables in the loft area.” The hostess smirks and then nods toward the stairs to the right. “Right this way.”
“You can’t be serious,” Kelsey says.
“Looks like she is serious,” I say, pressing my hand to her lower back and guiding her forward.
“You’re really going to make me have dinner with him?”
The hostess doesn’t answer, she just keeps walking, and I keep pushing Kelsey forward, a smile on my face the entire time. Here I thought the night was going to be a complete bust, but it’s turned into a night in which I’m very interested in taking part.
“This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be held against my will.”
We walk up the stairs.
“This program is a load of crock if you think I should be matched with JP. Did you even do a background check?”
We reach the loft, a private space draped in white linen curtains and twinkle lights. There’s one table in the middle, surrounded by an ambiance suited only for intimate lovers, two people tangling in each other’s lives with romantic interludes, long, drawn-out stories of childhood, and far-off fantasies of what their future might look like together.
And then there’s me and Kelsey, the angry porcupine, rearing up her quills and ready to impale me at her first chance.
This sensual room dripping in fairy-tale potential is about to get a show.
“There’s nothing romantic between us, nothing at all. Why is this happening?” she drones on.
The hostess holds out a basket with a sign that so eloquently reads “Unplug and be present” and shakes it at us, clearly and wordlessly stating we must deposit our lifelines within.
I plop my phone in because, if anything, I’m an excellent rule follower.
Panic sweeps through Kelsey’s eyes as she stares down at the basket. “What if I have an important phone call that comes in? What if I need my sister to fake a broken ankle so I can leave?”
At least she’s honest, but it does nothing to dissuade the hostess, and with a feral groan only heard through the depths of a dark, dank night, Kelsey puts her phone in the basket with mine.
Next, we’re shown to our table, parallel to a quaint stone fireplace offering an orange glow for a very romantic evening . . . with the priggish she-wolf.
“Your server’s name is Helix. He’ll be joining you shortly. Please let us know if you need anything,” the hostess says before pulling out both chairs for us.
“Yes, I need to get out of this date. How can you assist me in that?” Kelsey asks.
“I’m sure you two will have a beautiful evening together. Enjoy.”
And then she leaves, taking off downstairs and leaving me completely alone in what some might refer to as a dreamy loft with Kelsey.
A fuming, nostrils-flared Kelsey.
A Kelsey who would most likely prefer to share this space with anyone—and I mean anyone—but me.
She raises her hand and points at me, her finger shaking as she speaks through clenched teeth. “You did this. You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”
“What? You’ve lost your mind if you think I have time in my day to figure out what kind of cheesy dating app you’re on, infiltrate the app, and then somehow compromise the system so you and I are forced to have a date together.”
“I knew it.” She throws her hands in the air. “God, and you play the fool so well, when in reality, you’re a conniving birdbrain with nothing better to do than provoke people in your path.”
I take a seat at the table, pick up the napkin in front of me, and rest it across my lap. “Firstly, I said I didn’t have time to do all that. Secondly, conniving birdbrain is an insult I’m going to have to store away for later. It’s a good one.”
“Eww, don’t try to be charming with me.” She takes a seat as well, albeit reluctantly, and folds her napkin over her lap too. She drums her fingers on the table and takes in the lights around us. “What a wasted room.”
See, I knew she’d think that. Do I know this girl or what?
I lean forward and say, “You know, you could try to make the most of this and attempt to be pleasant.”
Her eyes shoot to mine. “Why, JP? I thought men and women who work with each other can’t be friends.”
Touché.