"Nothing," I responded without looking up at her.
Aside from being my Oprah, she was somewhat of a mind-reader. Years ago, I figured that if I avoided eye contact, she couldn't enter my thoughts. Although we had been friends for so many years, sometimes I couldn't read her. Sometimes I wasn't sure if she was genuinely happy for me or if she was acting petty, and now was one of those times.
"Chrissy..." She walked over to me, but I pretended to be occupied with the fax machine. "What is going on?" She was a bit more firm.
I sighed and looked over at her. "I have a date."
Before I could even finish the sentence, she squealed and jumped up and down like a schoolgirl. She started to rave about how she was so glad and about how she was this close to signing me up to some dating reality show.
It was true that Vanessa did look out for my love life: she would continually try to get me to go out with her and meet guys, but I was not interested. I just don't have time for the pretenses that came with dating.
You have to fake interests or even pretend that you're listening--all for the hopes that you find the special someone. Or if you were actually genuinely interested, it's all to find out that your date is just waiting to see how long before they get to sleep with you. If you give it up on the first night, you're a slut; if you don't, you're a prude. It's too much. Add to it the hype with Internet dating and swiping right for yes and whatnot, it was just too exhausting.
"So Mr. Blake decided to step up," Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of dark, curly hair behind her small ear.
"Honestly? He's asked me out before." I ducked for the shoe Vanessa cast my way, scowling. I held my hands out in surrender. "Hear me out! At first I was busy, but it's not just that. Not anymore, at least. I'm honestly a little scared."
With a tight, yet understanding, smile, Vanessa stepped over to me and gripped my shoulders. "Get out of your head," she said, shaking them. "Live a little, Chrissy! It won't kill you. Pinky swear."
"You're right."
"I mean, Blake might, though," she teased, chuckling, but it quickly faded and her serious expression was back as if the possibility Blake would kill me was real. "What did he say he did again? Like, what does he do for work?"
"Just something with computers and applications. I think he makes apps or something like that."
"And what does he look like?"
"Tall?" I tried. I honestly didn't know; he'd never sent me a picture.
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
"No, he said he was tall and had the body of an athlete."
"Oh boy." She rolled her eyes. "How is it that with all the technology in the world, you guys haven't visually seen each other? Shoot, the fact that he works with computers means that he has the means for you to see him. He's just holding back. That's a huge red flag, Chrissy!"
I just stared blankly in response. It was too late to back out now, and after all of these years of Vanessa teasing me about not meeting him, it was a little annoying that she chose now of all times to point out his flaws.
"I don't know. When we first started talking, there weren't that many avenues. Now you blink and everything is available at your fingertips." I shrugged, not thinking too much of it.
"Exactly. You can't tell me that man doesn't have access to a camera. Hell, almost every cell phone has one. I've seen toddlers with cameras, for Christ's sake!"
"I know."
"Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to give you some pepper spray and my taser, just in case."
"Vanessa!"
"What?! Listen, you don't have time to play cute and coy. I refuse for your life to end up like a Law and Order episode."
"Fine."
"And another thing..."
"What?" Here comes the headache.
"We have to get you looking like a sexy vixen!"
"What?"
"Live a little." She smiled, adding again for emphasis, "It won't kill you."
Chapter 3
Walking into the bar wearing Vanessa's skintight, low-cut, red dress made me nervous. I felt sexy, but I could feel all eyes on me, which made me nervous. I've been such a recluse that I had entirely forgotten what it was like to get any attention.
It was flattering to see guys turn their heads just to get a look. When I caught a glimpse of my reflection, I was out of breath. Vanessa had managed to make me look like the vixen she wanted to see. I never knew I could have killer curves. My breasts were out, my hips and butt looked great, and my makeup was flawless. Maybe while I had my eyes closed, Vanessa hit me with a magic wand.
"Hi. Can I get you something to drink?" The bartender acknowledged me as I sat down.
"Could I please just get a glass of white wine? Pinot Grigio," I added for clarification. "Actually, make that a vodka martini."
"Hard day?" Blake's deep, rich voice jolted me in my bar stool. Just the sound of it so up close sent a whole new set of nervous butterflies fluttering through my belly.