Single Dad Seeks Juliet

“Well, I do need to get some clarification on a few things. I couldn’t exactly hear what you guys were saying from my position.”

His responding smirk calls bullshit. “Get real, Holley. You just want to stay for dessert.”

I shrug and bite my lip, whispering, “Donuts and ice cream, Jake. Both homemade.”

“Yeah, okay.” His responding laugh is infectious. “Count me fucking in.”JakeI stare as Holley sucks the last bite of ice cream off her spoon and moans at the taste. It’s downright sensual, and I have to clear my throat to stop from saying something entirely inappropriate.

She’s the strangest combination of sexy and awkward I’ve ever spent time around, and I have to admit, it’s a million times more interesting than my date with Bianca this evening.

I don’t feel bad, though. Bianca was almost as miserable as I was as the night wore on, devastated to be on a date with such a grandpa. No Instagram profile? No Twitter? She couldn’t believe it.

I can only hope the candidates get better from here, or I don’t see much of a chance of this contest heading anywhere but down Failure Drive.

“Tell me, was the selection of women done randomly? Or did a chimpanzee do the profile matching? Because tonight’s matchup was a disaster.”

Holley narrows her eyes and points her empty spoon at me menacingly. “Hey now! You better watch it. I picked the women.”

I laugh, hard and sharp, and she rolls her eyes. “You’re actually taking credit?”

“Listen, you don’t know what the applicant pool looked like. Bianca was beautiful…and she sounded way better on paper than she turned out in person, okay?”

I tilt my head to my shoulder and wait. Just the weight of my stare will be enough to make her rationalize some more, and it’s just so damn fun to listen to what she comes up with.

“The next women are better, I’m sure. Bianca seemed a little thrown by the whole process from the beginning, but I’m positive you have some really good options left. Just think of this as, like, a drug trial or something. By the time your pill goes to market, the side effects will be minimal.”

“You sure you want to go with that for your analogy? Have you ever even listened to the side effects on one of those commercials before?”

I pick up my glass of whiskey to take a small sip as she answers.

“Of course. This is different, I swear. In fact, I’ll personally guarantee no nausea, vomiting, or anal bleeding whatsoever.”

Whiskey and spit fly everywhere, coating the table and her and me in a fine sheen.

She screams a little before breaking out into the most endearing cackles I’ve ever heard. They’re loud. Almost offensively so. But the difference between Holley’s laugh and Bianca’s is that it’s rooted in the belly and grows through the heart. Holley’s laugh—hell, Holley in general—is genuine in a way Bianca only pretends to be.

No filter.

I laugh at myself at the thought. I guess some of what Chloe’s been trying to teach me about this shit managed to stick.

Dessert consumed and debriefing done, it seems like we’re nearing the end of the night.

Holley fiddles with her napkin, and I roll around the remaining ice in my glass, trying to come up with a reason to stay. And the truth is, I don’t have one.

“So…what did you have in mind for your next date?” Holley asks, and the relief I feel at having a reason to hang around is unexpected.

“Well, the no anal leakage seems like a good place to start.”

Holley snorts. “Foundation,” she says. “It’s all about the foundation.”

A small laugh mixed with a sigh escapes my throat. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about the woman. Do you feel like hanging around to tell me?”

“Uh…sure, okay,” she agrees, and an odd, relief-filled sensation fills my chest. “I actually have the folder right here.” She bends down to dig in her bag. “Let’s see. Who’s the lucky lady?”

I start a drumroll on the table as she sets the folder down, and she doesn’t disappoint on the follow-through. As I come to a crescendo, she pops open the folder and points with her finger, right down at the name.

“Rachel!” she announces playfully, like we’ve stepped onto the set of The Price is Right. “Come on down! You’re the next contestant on Bachelor Anonymoussss!”

I chortle, putting my hands together in a golf-style clap so as not to disturb the other customers any more than we already have, and Holley’s smile grows so big it almost wraps around her face twice.

Damn, she really is beautiful.

“What else does your little folder say? What do I need to know about her?”

“Well…” She hums as she pauses long enough to read. “Rachel is an outdoor enthusiast. She’s an adventurer.”

“That’s great,” I remark with a skeptical smirk. “But that’s not her career, is it? An adventurer? I don’t want another social-media-obsessed, cackling Barbie situation.”