My phone dings and I click on my email. It only takes
me a few minutes to browse through the file Adley sent. Man,
she’s good. Her responses and everything she wrote are
insanely well written. Not only that, but they’re also witty and
funny. And she doesn’t give away personal details, which I
like.
My phone dings again and another email comes
through. It’s from Adley as well, listing a small pub not far
from my house and the time. She’s not just good. She’s really
good.
When I start thinking about this guy, whose name may
or may not actually be Jeff, oddly enough my nerves just shut
off. Is it weird that I don’t feel anything at all?
All through the next few hours, I keep expecting them
to come back. They don’t. Not when I was driving myself
home. Not when I got ready. Not when I drove over to the pub.
Not even when I walked in and found Jeff easily because he
looked exactly like the picture Adley attached to the email
with the messages.
I sit down across from him, but I’m not overly self-
conscious like I usually am. All I’d done to prepare was curl
my hair, throw on a white blouse and a pair of black skinny
jeans and pair them with a set of boots. I’m not nervous when
I order a beer and a plate of loaded fries, because why not?
I’m starving and I think it’s okay to treat myself to extremely
unhealthy, fried food once in a while.
Jeff has an easy smile. He’s clean shaven, athletic,
classically attractive. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt and
a pair of jeans. Both casual and dressy. He’s the kind of guy
that every woman on earth is probably attracted to. He’s nice,