Oh my God. This was her life! She’d just tried to quantify her date’s status in the hierarchy of drug dealers!
And of fucking course Dylan would be there to witness it all. Him and Mia. When she’d spotted them it was like every bad decision she’d ever made had manifested into physical form and found a date to attend a live showing of her humiliation.
When she reached the door to her favorite bar, she took her hair down and ditched her jacket, reaching down to massage her calves. Her “sky-high” heels were feeling less power statement and more unnecessary torture devices now that she was clicking across a beer-soaked wooden floor. By the time Sonya showed up, still in her scrubs from work, Dani was perched on a stool at the bar, obliterating a strong mixed drink.
“Dressed a little fancy for this place,” Sonya said, hugging her then hopping onto the stool beside her. “Where did this drug dealer take you?”
“Some expensive steakhouse a few blocks from here.”
Sonya held up a hand to the bartender and he waved. “Guess he can afford it, given his line of work.”
“Shut up.”
Sonya giggled and took a menu from the bartender. She ordered a margarita and nachos, and Dani signaled a refill on her cocktail.
“I’m starving,” Sonya said. “I could go for a steak dinner right about now.”
“Well, order up. I’m getting the brownie sundae.”
“Wow, dessert for dinner, huh? You’ve had bad dates before. What was it about this one?”
“Besides the felony?” Dani sighed. She might as well admit what was really bothering her. Somewhere on the walk there, she’d realized that any other night she would have been live-tweeting the hilarious tale of her date-gone-wrong. A date with a kingpin (he was definitely a kingpin) might have gone viral. She would have laughed about it for days, then leveraged the attention to plug some business for her company.
But instead of turning her lemons into lemonade, she felt like someone was squeezing those lemons into an open wound.
And she knew exactly what was rubbing her raw.
“I was supposed to be having drinks with Cat tonight,” she blurted, “but instead I’m on another dead-end date, and she’s on her honeymoon. It’s just starting to feel like the beginning of a new era.”
Sonya’s perfectly-arched brows slashed inward and she crossed her arms over her purple scrub top. “Is this some weird knee-jerk reaction to Cat’s wedding, like when Emma bought her house and you decided you needed a bigger kitchen so you had four quotes by the following weekend?”
“And then I realized I never cook so I called the whole thing off?” She thought for a minute. “Maybe.” She did have a habit of not knowing what she wanted until it was shoved in her face. She gulped the last of her drink and dropped her head into her hands, letting out a low whine.
“Look at you,” Sonya said. “You’re practically in mourning. Why are you acting like she’s dead? Cat and Josh have been attached at the hip for years now.”
“Yeah but before it was Cat and her boyfriend. Now it’s Cat and her husband. It just feels like everyone’s joining this club that I’m not invited to. You’re all married or engaged, and I’m a lifer at the single’s table, destined to bring one bad date after another to all of your weddings.”
Oh my God. She was Dylan. The tequila in her belly burned at the implication.
“You’re not a lifer. Shut up. You’re an idiot.”
A smile cracked her face unexpectedly and she snorted. Tough love was Sonya’s forte. Dani had a feeling it was what made her a good nurse. Sonya gave it to you straight. It might hurt, but there was a certain comfort in knowing she felt you were strong enough to hear it. “Fine,” she said. “Maybe I’m not a lifer. I just didn’t expect to be so far behind.”
“To be fair, this is sort of a new concern for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The morning Emma got married, you crawled out of some guy’s bed and met us late and hungover at the hair salon.”
She chewed her straw. “Emma got married years ago. Doesn’t count.”
“Okay, but when Marcus and I got engaged two months ago, you sent me a condolence card.”
“That was a joke. I’m very happy for you.”
“I know. I’m just saying, this is the first I’ve even heard you mention the idea of settling down. Like Cat getting married flipped some switch in your pretty blonde head.”
Sonya was right. All four of them were tight, but she’d known Cat since middle school. They’d even picked the same college so they didn’t have to be apart. When Sonya and Emma were assigned to the dorm room across the hall, their circle was complete, but it had kind of always been Dani and Cat, and Sonya and Emma. Now it was Sonya and Emma, and Cat and Josh, and she was fresh off of a one night stand with Dylan and a date with a drug dealer.
“I don’t know,” she groaned. “I guess it occurred to me that if a nutcase like Cat can find someone, then maybe I can too. And maybe I’m afraid to be so far behind.”
Sonya slurped the last sip of her margarita. “Dani, you’re not behind. You’ve done great things with your career. You partied hard, but you also worked your ass off. Maybe this is the year you finally find the right guy and actually have the time to spend with him.”
“Maybe.” She pictured Nick exchanging packages with the driver of a black SUV. Left to her own devices, she wasn’t off to a great start.
There’s always Benji’s website.
“Look,” Sonya continued, “with the exception of Emma, none of us were looking for love when we found it. I was getting my masters when I met Marcus and it was the worst possible time to have a boyfriend, and we all know how hard Cat fought the idea of falling for Josh when they first met. Once you start trying to find love the way you think it’s supposed to look, you set yourself up for disappointment.”
She had a point. Maybe that was part of what was holding her back on Benji’s idea. It wasn’t that she had an issue with meeting men online. Like every woman of a certain age bracket, she’d spent some time on Tinder, but she definitely wasn’t there to find her soulmate. This app seemed like a real endeavor. A commitment to find commitment. It cost a hundred bucks to join, for God’s sake. There had to be a higher tier of engagement there. Which was what she wanted, of course. That was the whole point, but there was that one little problem in the description. Something she definitely hadn’t imagined when she pictured finding the right guy. What was the point if she couldn’t follow the rules?
“My friend Benji suggested something,” she hedged. “It’s a dating site.”