Blind Date(3)

She puts her hands up in self-defense as I throw the nearest item at her, which happens to be a roll of thread. It bounces off her shoulder and trails across the floor, leaving a long line of string in its wake. Great. That'll take forever to roll back up.

"Come on, you didn't think I would get you to agree without having this all ready to go, did you?"

I scowl at her. That's exactly what I thought. I figured I had at least a few weeks or maybe she'd move on to something else and forget about it entirely. Besides, where in the hell does she get time to find three men for me, as well as work, and basically attempt to run my entire life?

She rolls her eyes. "Stop scowling, Hart. You need to start using that beautiful smile to attract these gorgeous prospects."

I roll my eyes right back. "Where did you find three men?"

"I found five, actually, but I can narrow them down to three. And there is this singles website, it's actually called blind date. It's really super cool. You put in all your details-what you're interested in, right down to the way someone looks-and it sends you matches. You ask them for a date, they agree or disagree. If they agree, you set up a location and meet. It's kind of mysterious, don't you think?"

I wouldn't go as far as "mysterious," but I can think of at least ten ways that could go wrong. I mean seriously, it's like a website created for all the crazies of the world to lie and then to meet on dates. I don't know how the creator thought it would be a successful idea. Although, obviously it is successful because Taylor has found me not one, not two, but five men. Thank God I only agreed to three. "If I get sold as a sex slave, it's all your fault," I say, wagging my finger at her.

She laughs. "Don't be so dramatic. You're far too mouthy for that. They'd sooner chop you into a thousand pieces before using you as a slave-you'd drive them crazy in a day."

I flip her the bird, and she winks at me.

"The first date is tonight, by the way. I have a dress for you."

My eyes pop wide open. She's kidding, no? Tonight? My heart clenches in a strange way-nerves, maybe? It's been so long since I've felt anything even remotely like the anxious feeling bubbling in my tummy. Am I truly ready for this? I guess I'm not getting much of a choice. "Taylor, seriously … "

"You're welcome."

I pout at her. "There will be revenge for this. Sweet, sweet revenge."

"Yeah, yeah." She flicks a hand dismissively. "You better finish sewing on that button, because we need to find you some shoes to wear-oh, and some jewelry."

I haven't been on a date in over ten years. I'm nearly thirty-four. That's a big gap. A lot has changed since I was twenty-four. Am I even what men are looking for these days? What is the norm for a woman? Should I be blonder? Thinner? I wouldn't even know what to talk about. Will it be awkward? What if I hate the person and can't escape? This isn't the traditional way of meeting someone, and that makes me nervous.

Suck it up, Hartley. Eventually, it has to happen.

"What's going to happen if I don't like the guy, like I mean really don't like him?" I ask.

She nods, like she's got every scenario figured out well in advance. "Simple. You send me a text, and I'll call you pretending to be your pregnant sister who has just gone into labor."


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"Not original at all." I roll my eyes.

She shrugs. "Well, it'll work. Now, let's find something we can do with your hair."

I pout. "Do I really have to do this?"

She crosses her arms. "If you ever want to be left alone, yes."

I grind my teeth. "And this is the only option?"

"You could always go and ask that gorgeous neighbor of yours."

I raise my brows. "Ace?"

"Mmmmhmmm. He's fine. I'd tap that all the way out of this apartment building."

I laugh. "Ace is a dick. He won't even say hello to me when I wave. He's so  …  brutal. Seriously."

She shrugs again. "He's a cop. That's what they do."

I raise a brow, like that explanation is supposed to let him walk around thinking he's better than the rest of the world. Manners should be a part of everyday life, no matter what your profession is. "He's a detective, actually, and manners aren't exactly hard. Surely he has to deal with people in his everyday life. I mean how hard is it to say hello?"

"Maybe he didn't hear you," Taylor offers, quirking a brow.

"Oh, he hears me. I waved right in his face once, and he just stared at me."