“Yes, I see him all over the app,” Juliet says breezily while snagging another chip.
What? Like, hitting on women? A hot burst of jealousy flares through me, chased by red-hot irritation. Is he messing around with women on the app? Is he lying to me? Like Edward did?
My heart spins like a washing machine off-kilter. “What do you mean? Like you can see him flirting or something? Can you tell who he swipes on? Is he going on dates? What can you see?”
I’m desperate to know since I barely understand how apps work these days. I used them in college and for a few years after, but I didn’t even meet Edward online. I was a retail buyer for jewelry at a big department store, and he was one of the company’s bankers. I’ve been off apps for more than seven years. A lifetime in modern dating.
Juliet laughs gently. “No, grandma. You can’t see him flirting or talking to anyone. That’s not how apps work.”
Oh. Right. Of course. But he could be talking to other women.
Of course he is. He owes his sponsor four more dates. Unless…
“Sure, right. I knew that,” I say, then grab my merlot since wine doesn’t make me feel stupid. I do that well enough on my own.
“But I saw the videos he did with Quinn on Date Night a couple years ago, and now there are all these ‘five great first date’ ads running,” Juliet continues, twirling a strand of brown hair with a free hand. “And obviously there’s the video of you two from the date.”
Of course I knew that. He showed the video to me before he posted it a couple days ago. I even approved it. But now I can’t stop thinking about him using the app to talk to women. My eye is twitching.
My sister’s lips curve into a gotcha grin. “Oh my god, you’re sooo into him,” she says, then reaches for a nacho triumphantly.
“No,” I say, trying desperately to cut that notion off. “Not like that.”
“Then like what?” Elodie asks pointedly.
“I’m not into him like anything,” I say, and I’m saved by the game, since the action on the screen returns to first down.
I stare intensely at the TV. As I crunch hard on chips, I pour all my focus into the game, only the game, as the Renegades quarterback hands off to Malik Hamlin. The running back hustles downfield, evading first one tackle, then another as Carter blocks for him. Malik’s finally knocked down but after he nabs another first down. Carter offers him a hand and yanks him up, then they smack palms. I cheer. A few plays later, Carter easily sails across the end zone on a short pass.
“Yes!” I shout.
He smacks palms with his quarterback in the end zone, then he rips off his helmet as he trots to the sidelines. His grin is pure exuberance. The thrill of a job well done. A bead of sweat slides down his brow and his eye black is smudged. He high-fives his teammates.
I smile stupidly.
“You sure seem like you’re not into him,” Elodie says dryly.
“It was a platonic date,” I insist. The more I say it, the quicker these flutters I get as I stare at the gorgeous, sexy, totally built stud on the screen will stop. I hope. I really hope.
“Sure,” Elodie adds with a whatever you say nod. “I see a lot of men who roll out all the stops on platonic dates.”
“For a sponsor,” I add. “A sponsor. Let me remind you of what he said to me when he asked me on said platonic date.” I clear my throat, then adopt a masculine tone as I repeat Carter’s words. “I don’t want to go anywhere near a real date, so my agent is getting it all sorted for me to do five first dates. And it’ll be way easier for me if you and I could do the first one. As friends.”
I mime dropping a mic.
Juliet frowns.
Elodie sighs.
Then my sister grabs a couch pillow and tosses it on the floor like a petulant child. “Thanks for ruining my Sunday.”
Elodie slumps deeper onto the couch. “And to think I was going to live vicariously through you.”
“I was too,” Juliet puts in.
“Aww, my poor little single friends. We’ll just have to stick together,” I say, then I side-eye my sister next to me. “But you’re actually on the apps, Juliet. Why do you need to live through me?”
Her gaze sears me. “Have you seen my dating track record?”
Fair point, since I have and it’s not pretty. But neither is mine. “Yes, and may I introduce you to the woman who got hoodwinked by her hubs?” I ask with a fake-ass smile. “Oh, speaking of, I really should send Edward a baby gift for his newborn. His third child. The man impregnated his girlfriend three times while he was married to me.” A hot rush of shame washes over me again. I was such a fool. The day I learned he’d been cheating, I felt like I’d been hit by a wrecking ball. I was at the store in Venice, doing inventory, when a customer I’d become friends with sent me a text saying, “Looks like your husband’s doppelgänger is here in Palm Springs!”
A seemingly innocent text had opened the floodgates. Only it wasn’t Edward’s identical twin. It was Edward and the mother of his children, enjoying a playdate in the desert on the swings. The other woman wore a T-shirt with roses on it.
That was where he’d been going on all those business trips. To see his other family a couple hours down the coast. The rose necklace he’d given me suddenly made too much sense. The rose necklace had been meant for her. She was the rose lover.
The wrecking ball doesn’t wallop me like it did then, but even more than a year later, the aftershocks of heart, hurt, and humiliation ricochet through me.
I swallow down the ache and stay strong here with my sister and my friend. “I am never dating again. I am never falling in love again. I am going to marry my vibrator and have battery-operated children with it.” It’s a declaration of singletude.
Juliet squeezes my arm. Elodie rests her head on my other shoulder.
“I’ll help raise my vibrator nieces,” Juliet offers.
“Thank you,” I say, pouting, but grateful. Then I try to shake it off. It being the shame, and the flutters.
But when the camera on screen pans in on eighty-eight again as he pulls a cap down over his hair, little brown waves sticking out, I can’t shake off the wild idea that’s been dogging me lately.
I just can’t.
Maybe I need to give it breath.
And this is a safe space. Elodie and Juliet are my people. “I need to tell you an idea I’ve had,” I say as the Leopards take possession.
Their gazes whip to me. “What is it?” Juliet asks, wide-eyed.
“It’s a little wild. We should enlist Hazel,” I say.
“Obviously,” Elodie seconds, and in no time, she’s ringing up our redheaded friend in New York on FaceTime.
“Well, to what do I owe the honor of the assembly?” Hazel says from my phone.
“This might be crazy…”
Hazel’s green eyes twinkle. “The best ideas always start with this might be crazy.”
But this idea also seems…smart and useful and, strangely, safe. “So, Carter owes Date Night four more dates,” I say, then I tell them what I’m thinking.
To my surprise, they don’t say I’ve lost my mind.
The answer is a unanimous go for it.