Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(181)

“I’m sorry I can’t sit with Tomas tonight,” I said. “I hate letting you down at a time like this.”

She waved her hand in the air like it was no big deal.

“Mama said she’d do it. No worries. It’s not like I’m going to be out super late anyway.”

“Not the magician then?”

“Oh lord!” she rolled her eyes dramatically. “Didn’t I tell you what happened with him?”

“Nope,” I said, cuddling up to a more comfortable position and getting ready to hear the story. Melita had been picking the most unusual profiles off this internet dating site under the theory that they had to be the most genuine. Nobody would claim to be a magician who wasn’t, right?

So far the results hadn’t been stellar. The guy whose profile picture featured the pink bedspread and the samurai sword raised over his head turned out to have… well, a girlfriend and a collection of samurai swords. Go figure. I thought that was pretty obvious but Melita still believed she was going to find an undiscovered treasure if she just dug deep enough, like pulling a Gucci crocodile tote out of the dollar bin at the thrift store.

The magician's profile picture showed him peeking out from behind a fan of cards, naturally. More photos on his profile showed him tearing cards into pieces with a wide-eyed expression of dramatic surprise and pulling small red balls out of the various orifices on his head. I had high hopes for the magician.

“Well, we already knew that he lived with his mama,” she started.

“Yeah, which was not that weird.”

“It's weird if you're 50 years old,” she said, her head bobbling on her neck like it was attached by a spring. “But I was willing to overlook that because she is like 90 and maybe he's just a good boy who takes care of his mama.”

“Which could be a delightful character attribute,” I said helpfully.

She fanned her fingers and nodded once. “That's what I'm saying. I was, like, trying to keep an open mind. Just in case, you know.”

“So what happened?”

She seemed to get uncomfortable and shifted on the sofa, twisting up her features and squinting hard.

“Well, let me see if I can describe this to you. He takes me out to see a movie… But not any movie. Not, like, a grown-up movie. He takes me to see a cartoon.”

“Wait, what?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, not an adult movie with explosions and making out and stuff, you know, things that you might want to cuddle up to your date for. No. He wants us to go see a full-on kids movie with like songs and shit.”

“Huh.”

“So, I am just figuring this is going to be an entirely G-rated experience, right? I mean, what grown-ass man takes a grown-ass woman to see a kids’ movie?”

“I have no idea.”

She shrugged theatrically. “So imagine my surprise when we get back to his shiny Toyota and he suddenly… Oh, geez, how can I explain this? You know how a Pez candy dispenser will have a head on the top of it?”

“Yeah?”

“And you like push with your thumb and the mouth opens and the candy comes out but, like, the whole top of the head has to go backwards in order to do it? Yeah, it was like that. Like, he moves to kiss me or whatever…”

“Oh no!”

“And the whole top half of his head unhinges and he opens his mouth and it's like he's going to eat me or something! I mean, he just comes at me and instead of kissing me his mouth covers, like, the whole bottom half of my face. With slobber and everything!”

I choked behind my hand, laughing so hard I could barely breathe. Her horror was palpable. She fanned herself as though she had narrowly escaped a tragedy.

"I mean... I could have drowned!”

“Oh my god,” I gasped between convulsions and stomach cramps. “That sounds horrifying!”

“I barely escaped with my life,” she nodded seriously. “There is not enough good boy mama points in the world to make up for that.”

“Were you wearing that black cherry lipgloss by any chance? Maybe he was overwhelmed with hunger.”

She perched her fists on her hips and gave me a scowl.

“I really do not think that this is funny.”

“Yes you do,” I countered.

“Yeah, okay. It is kind of funny. But how does a man get to be 50 years old and not know how to kiss?”

“That's a good question. Little did he know he was dealing with a kissing prodigy.”

“Damn straight!”

“So you've exhausted the samurais and sorcerers on this dating site. What kind of sideshow freak could possibly be left?”

“Well!” she said excitedly, her fingers wiggling in a jazz-hands motion. “I found me a real country singer.”