“Of course I did,” I snap.
How the fuck do I do that?
“I’m not catching an Uber,” I announce as I go up onto my toes while looking around at the street. “I’m catching a cab. I support old school.”
“Oh . . .” Elliot smirks. “Good for you.”
I see the moment of horror as the doormen all notice me. “Mr. Miles.” They run over. “How can we help you, sir?”
“I . . .”
Elliot cuts me off. “He’s fine, thank you.” He smiles at them. “Thank you, anyway.”
The doormen slowly go back inside, and I glance over at Elliot, who is watching me. “Go on, then,” he says.
“Go on what?”
“Catch a cab.”
“Do you honestly think I can’t get a cab on my own?”
“When was the last time you did it?”
“When was the last time you went to the hospital for being beat up?” I narrow my eyes.
Elliot holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying . . .” He walks back inside, and I watch him as he disappears into the elevator.
I stare after him, and determination fills me. I will catch my own fucking cab. I walk out onto the street and see a cab coming down the road. I put my arm up.
It speeds past with a passenger in the back seat.
Hmm . . .
Another cab comes, and I put my arm up. He drives straight past me. “Fucker,” I call after him.
For five minutes I stand on the side of the road. No cabs are stopping.
What in the hell is wrong with them? Don’t they know I have somewhere to go?
This is discrimination.
I hear a voice. “Mr. Miles.” I turn to see that Hans has parked the limo. “Is everything all right, sir?”
“Umm . . .” I glance around. No cab is stopping, and I could be here for eternity. I peek inside to make sure Elliot has gone. “Take me home, please.”
Hans gives me a kind smile and opens the back door for me, and I climb in. He pulls out into the traffic.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask him.
“Elliot called me.”
“Elliot called you?” I fume.
“Yes, said that I needed to rescue you.”
Asshole.
“I had a wonderful time.” She swoons.
“Me too.” I fake a smile. It’s all I can do not to check my watch as we stand on the street saying goodbye. How long is this going to take?
This has been the worst date in all history.
Boring . . .
So fucking boring.
Carly is beautiful, smart, and sweet, with a body to die for. She’s everything I should want. And yet, as usual when I’m out with a girl one on one, I’m bored as fuck. I even considered asking the waiter to poison my food so that I’d have a legitimate reason to leave.
Tristan’s and Jameson’s words from today run through my mind for the millionth time.
You are thirty-one years old and never had a girlfriend. You take nice girls on token dates to try and kid yourself into believing that they stand a chance, and you only fuck women in pairs so that there is no chance you can fall for one of them.
Carly frowns up at me. “Is everything okay?”