was a dad who lived by a concrete code of morals and honor.
The two were never to cross.
I chuckle to myself. I never thought in a million years Chloe would be the one to rewire the whole thing.
So now, it’s about more than that. And Bianca may be beautiful, but I need to know if there’s anything under the top layer. Is she funny? Does she have depth? Is she the kind of human I want to be around for more than an hour and a half?
These are questions I never even bothered to ask before. Now, though, they’re important.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, sticking out a hand for her to shake.
She takes it readily, but her hand goes limp within mine. I hate to be so judgmental, but a limp-fish handshake is not a great sign. I like strong and bold.
“You too,” she answers. “You’re even better-looking than I imagined.”
I laugh. Well, then. What was I just saying about bold? I guess we could work on the handshake.
“Thanks, I think. Though, I have to admit, I didn’t have much to do with it.”
She smiles a little, but I can tell she doesn’t understand, so I elucidate, “You’d have to thank my parents’ genes for the looks. They’re responsible.”
“Their jeans?” she asks.
My eyebrows pull together, but I push on. “Yep. Their genes.”
“Is it a special kind of denim?”
Oh, for the love of intelligence.
I cough behind my hand to conceal the absolute riot act happening in my head and remind myself to be a gentleman.
But the truth is, with one simple comment, I’m as done as they get.
There is no way in hell or heaven I could stand to end up with someone like Bianca. There’s someone out there for her, I’m sure. But I’m not that guy.
And yet, I have to take the polite, gentlemanly road and sit through an entire dinner with her. The only self-preservation will be my ability not to take any of it too seriously.
“Yeah,” I say instead of wasting my time trying to explain how chromosomes work. “It’s, like, a poly-stretch blend, I think.”
She nods like she understands exactly what I mean.
My brain knocks on the inside of my skull, begging to be set free. I do my best to ignore it.
“Anyway,” I say, widening my eyes and taking a deep breath. “I guess we should head for our table.”
She smiles and nods, and I gesture for her to lead the way.
Once her back is to me, I scan the restaurant, looking for Holley. We’re going to have to have a talk about her picking this one for me—for anybody, really. She can’t convince me she couldn’t have searched for another option.
I finally spot her in the far back corner of the restaurant, her head bent to her notebook as she jots something down with a pen.
When we make it to the table, I pull out Bianca’s chair and get her settled and then take the seat across from her—the one with a direct view of Holley Fields over my date’s shoulder.
I keep staring there until Holley looks up and meets my eyes unexpectedly. It makes her startle, and I take a little perverse pleasure in it. It’s the least she owes me for this.
“So, Bianca,” I begin, forcing myself to look away from Holley and look my date in the eye. “What is it you do for work?”
“I’m a brand spokesperson on Instagram.”
“And…sorry, I’m not really in touch with a lot of today’s social media stuff…what does that entail exactly?”
Her red-painted lips quirk up at the corners. “I talk about different products on my Instagram page, and they pay me.”
“Is Instagram the one with the bird or the one with all the pictures?” I ask. I know Chloe is always talking about them, but I honestly can never remember what’s what.
Bianca’s eyes widen, and her lip, I think, might even quiver. “You don’t know what Insta is? Do you have a profile?”
I shake my head. “I pretty much leave all of that stuff to my teenage daughter.”
She grimaces into a fake smile, and I almost fucking laugh.
Hell, now she’s questioning what she’s doing here with me, too.
She looks at me again, though, moving her eyes over my face and body and squaring her shoulders. “Never mind.”
I take a deep breath and decide to try again. The more effort I make, the quicker this dinner will be over, and I can ask Holley what the hell she was thinking. “Are you from San