Can't Fix Cupid

“Yeah, mingle me,” Blue says with her brow arched.

Warren looks back at her coolly. “No.”

“Good grief,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Okay, here. Watch me.” I turn to Harvey, who’s looking happy as a clam as he lounges back on the pillows, watching the belly dancers from across the way.

“Harvey, I really love your tie, where’d you get it?”

His blue eyes land on me, the edges crinkling with humor as he smoothes down his loosened tie. “My mother, I think.”

“Aww, are you and your mother close?”

“My mother is a saint. She raised four boys on her own, the way only a strong woman can.”

Blue looks at him with new respect and raises a fist to him in solidarity. “Women run the world, yo.”

Harvey bumps his fist to hers. “Word.”

The waitress comes up then, and she’s jingling at the hips because she’s also one of the belly dancers. She has beautiful brown skin, slightly dewy with sweat from her dance. Her straight black hair hangs down her back, and she has ornate henna painted around her belly button.

“Ready to order?”

“I’ll have the lentil stew,” Blue says.

“Couscous,” Harvey puts in.

“And you?” the waitress asks Warren.

“Nothing for me.”

I interject. “Don’t listen to him.” I rip the menu from his hands and then close my eyes and let my finger land in a random spot. I open my eyes and show her the food item. “He’ll have this.”

“Tagine? Very good,” she says with a nod. “And you?”

I do the same pick-trick again. “I’ll have this one.”

“And the harissa. Excellent. I’ll put that in for you and bring you more tea.”

She turns to leave, her hips jingling all the way.

Harvey and Blue start talking about the evolution of feminism, while Warren glowers at me. “What?” I ask.

“You know I was coerced into going on this date.”

“Yeah, by Tonya. I like her.”

“I used to,” he mutters.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” I tell him, leaning over to start messing with his tie.

He freezes as my hand grazes his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to loosen up, of course. Lesson number two: Relax.”

He studies my face. “Mingle and relax. Those are your groundbreaking matchmaker tips so far?”

“Yep,” I say, still messing with his tie. “And it’s awesome advice that you’re doing a terrible job of following.”

I thought that I could handle loosening the knot since I managed to tie his shoelaces together earlier, but all I manage to do is make his tie even tighter. He finally gets frustrated and bats me away to do it himself.