down to the real reason for being here and move away from me, you know, mortifying myself in every way humanly possible, the better.
“What’s that?” Jake asks as I move my coffee cup over to open it in front of me.
“It’s a dossier on your first woman.”
“A dossier, huh?” He quirks a sarcastic brow. “I didn’t know the Tribune was a front for the CIA.”
I squint my eyes. “It’s not, like, her blood type or anything. Just basic details she filled out on a questionnaire. You know, like the one you refused to fill out…”
He grins.
“Anyway, I figured it would help us since you’re so keen on creating a date specific to the woman.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he says defensively.
Realizing my tone, I correct it swiftly. “No, no. You’re right. It is a good idea. If you’re trying to get to know these women in one night, it’s best to do it in an environment in which they’ll thrive.”
I flip the first page over since it’s nothing more than personal details and move on to the second. “Let’s see here,” I say, scrolling over her answers with a finger on the paper and my tongue between my lips.
“It says here that she’s a big traveler. Loves to try new foods. Hmm,” I hum, reading the next line. “She’s not officially a food critic, but according to this, she kind of fancies herself as one.”
Amusement pops from his lips. “Wow. You don’t like her.”
I look up, shocked. “What? What do you mean?”
“You didn’t hear the way you said that?” he asks, and I scrunch up my nose in confusion.
“No. What did I say?”
“It’s not really what you said but how you said it.”
“Isn’t that something women normally say to men?”
He points at me with a knowing stare. “Don’t deflect, Holley.”
I shake my head and look back down at the paper, reminding myself not to be so fucking transparent. Just because I know Bianca is the blond-bob-sporting, slightly ditzy woman from my initial meeting with his dates doesn’t mean I should go coloring his view of her before he meets her.
I’m extra conscious of my tone as I read aloud the next question on the list.
“Does she have any food aversions?” I slide my finger down to her answer. “None to speak of!” I clap my hands in front of myself, and Jake smirks. “Well, that’s good.”
“Sounds like I should take her to a nice restaurant, huh?”
I shrug both shoulders. “If that’s what you want to do, I think it’s a good idea.”
He nods before looking out the window, pondering something. I don’t dare ask what. When he finally looks back at me, I close the folder and take out my notepad to jot down whatever he comes up with. “Which restaurant do you have in mind?”
“What’s that new place downtown?”
My eyebrows draw together as I try to figure out which one he means.
“The one that’s supposed to have the best dessert.”
Ah, now he’s speaking my language.
“MoMo Milan,” I say happily, and he grins.
“That’s the one.”
From what I’ve heard, they have a homemade donut and ice cream that’s absolutely to die for. The only problem is that they have a reservation list a mile out. I could probably pull some weight if I mentioned the paper, but then we’d be risking a leak from someone…
“I…uh…think it’s pretty hard to get into.”
He waves a hand between us. “I’ll take care of it. I know a guy who has connections at restaurants all over. Built a house for him a couple years ago. We’re still in touch, and he’s always telling me to let him know wherever I want to go.”
“Wow. Well, that’s handy.”
He winks. “I’m a handy kind of guy.”
“I really think you need to introduce me to all the people you’re building houses for from now on.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he says with a little smirk, just as my phone vibrates on the table. I’m almost afraid to look at it at this point, but I do.
Gloria: Where’s your copy, Holley? This thing goes to print in three hours!
Shit. For as much as I didn’t want another awkward message from my dad, getting that message from my editor—when I know well and good I’m not done writing my article—might be worse.
I start furiously putting away all my shit. Time to pack it up and get back to the grind.
“You’re leaving?” Jake asks, and it almost sounds like he’s disappointed. When I look up at him, though, he’s