Trevor nods. “I know. So will you, Mom.”
I nod my agreement, though I’m not sure I believe it.
Chapter Four
Date Count: 95/96
Melissa
I hear the buzzer letting me know I have a visitor in the lobby. I assume it’s my date, Michael, who I met online. I agreed to the date after confirming that his profile picture was current. I’m learning from my mistakes.
I tell Jerry, the security officer that works the lobby, that I’m on my way down. When I step off the elevator, the only man I see besides security is the tiniest grown man I’ve ever seen in my life. Not only am I significantly taller, but I must outweigh him by thirty to forty pounds.
I smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?”
“Melissa, it’s me, Michael. Your date.”
I pinch my eyebrows together. “I’m confused. My date indicated that he’s six feet two inches on his dating profile.”
He gives me a guilty smile. “Oh. That must have been typo. I must have typed six instead of five.”
What a bunch of bullshit. I’ve got seven inches on this guy, plus I’m in heels, so it’s more like ten or eleven inches. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? What a waste of time.
He looks me up and down, smiles, and holds out his arm. “Shall we go?”
I don’t want to be a jerk. He was very nice all week and looks excited for the date. I guess one dinner with mini-me won’t hurt. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight, though it’s a shame that I bought this cute dress just for the date.
I plaster on a fake smile as I reach down, far down, and take his arm. We make our way to the door. I see Jerry smirking out of the corner of my eye. I jokingly narrow my eyes at him, and he widens his smile back at me.
We arrive at the restaurant to a sea of stares. I look like I’m babysitting this guy. We need to sit immediately to even things out a bit. Though he might need a booster seat to see over the table.
We have to wait several agonizing minutes for a table but when we are eventually seated, mercifully, it’s in the back, away from the front entrance and crowded bar area. The waitress comes to take our drink orders.
I need a drink right now. A big one. I smile up at her. “I’ll have a double Patron on the rocks.”
Michael makes a weird noise. “Melissa, I’m actually recovering. Do you mind skipping the drink?”
Normally, I’d absolutely respect that, but I have no clue how I’m going to get through this evening without a drink. Or several drinks.
I nod my head and grit my teeth. “No problem.”
We make small talk for the next fifteen minutes. Not only can I physically fit this guy into my pocket, he has zero personality. I’m too damn old to spend my time on this crap.
Fuck it. I need a drink. The front bar area is out of sight of our table. I can go down a drink and be back before he can see over the table that I’ve left.
I stand up. “I’m going to run to the restroom and then check in on my new grandkids. I’ll be back in a bit.”
He stands as I leave. Or at least I think he stands. It’s hard to tell. “No problem. Take your time.”
I make a beeline for the bar. I’m locked in on the bartender, and he smiles as I arrive. “What can I get you?”
“I need a double Patron on the rocks. No, make it a triple. I’ll give you an extra twenty if you have it in my hands in the next fifteen seconds.”
I hear a chuckle next to me. I turn to see an exceptionally attractive man sitting at the bar with a beer. He’s broad, with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. He’s sitting, but he looks like he’s well over six feet. Why couldn’t this guy have been my date tonight? He’s delicious looking.
He smiles. “Let me guess, it’s a blind date?”
The bartender hands me my drink. Phew. That was quick. I hand him fifty dollars for his efforts and take a huge first gulp.