No more sleeping with blind dates though, I told myself, no matter how aggressively they might grab my crotch during the cab ride home. You just don’t know who might turn out to be a psycho these days. Or tell your family about your man-whore tendencies.
I took a deep breath before walking up the steps to Eva and Todd’s building. God, please don’t let this one be a weirdo.
“Ans, buddy, great to see you,” Todd said, giving me the male one-armed hug that guys did.
“Yo,” I said in a whisper while we were still in the foyer. “Is it bad? Is she a freak? D
ude, I gotta know. I can’t take another psycho.”
Todd burst out laughing, like the dick brother that he was. When the drama went down with the blind date from a couple years ago, he actually told my parents, if you can believe that.
Yes, even my parents found out I’d fucked a girl on the first date and then not called her. As you might imagine, I avoided them for a while, too.
“Dude, there’s nothing to worry about. C’mon.” He took a step back and looked at me, head cocked. He jiggled the ice cubes in whatever amber liquid he was drinking and pulled me into the living room.
“Get me one of what you’re drinking, or I’ll kill you,” I hissed.
Eva came swanning from across the room. That’s what she did—swanned. I’m not sure that was a real word or one I’d made up, but she floated toward me with her neck arched high and her arms spread in preparation for the world’s most dramatic hug.
Which was weird because she basically hated me.
“My little brother, Anson,” she purred. She took me in her giant wingspan and whispered in my ear, “You better not screw this one up.”
She pulled back and looked at me with this beatific smile. I glanced around to see if anyone else knew what a devil she was, but she had them all fooled, it seemed.
She took my hand in her scratchy, bony one, and pulled me into the room. I scanned the place as subtly as possible, trying to determine who was to be my not-so-discreet fix-up. Before I could make a full assessment, she’d plopped me in front of the woman whom I guessed was to be my date.
Was she kidding?
This woman was goddamn gorgeous. I breathed a sigh of relief and extended my hand to a tall, curvy blonde with glasses.
“Oh, hi,” she said, yanking them off. I never understood why women were so embarrassed about glasses. “I’m Maizy.” She extended her hand and laid a smile on me that just about knocked me over.
Eva beamed, obviously pleased with her match, and certain I’d never again fuck one of her set-ups on the first date. Yeah, I’d be paying for that mistake for the rest of my days.
Eva scurried off, probably to watch from a distance. That’s how she was.
“I’m…uh…Anson.”
Holy shit. This was what the law firms were producing these days? My new friend took a draw on her wine, but she looked longingly at my bourbon.
“You like bourbon? You want some?” I asked, gesturing at the bar.
She looked around sneakily. “I’d better not. At least not yet.”
There was fear in her voice. She knew what my sister-in-law was all about, clearly.
I led her to a small sofa. A strategic move—no one else could sit with us.
“So you’re a lawyer, huh? At my sister-in-law’s firm?” God, she had great legs. I hoped she wasn’t a bitch like Eva.
“Oh, no! Hell, no.” As soon as she said it, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes scanned the room again, like she was in enemy territory.
Christ, who’d traumatized this woman?
She leaned closer. Her hair, which was piled on top of her head in a messy knot thing, smelled great.
“I’m not an attorney. Just a paralegal.” She straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Yes, I’m a paralegal, I mean. Sorry. Didn’t mean to say just.”