Unexpected Storms (Unexpected #4) - Stacy Eaton Page 0,3

just a funny tee-hee, but a full-on throw-the-head-back-and-cackle kind of laugh. “Because you are talking about a blind date, Ali. You—who doesn’t even date—is going to go on, not one or two, but three blind dates, and you aren’t even going to talk to them. You’re going to dance with them—dance. It makes no sense, Ali, even for you.”

“But don’t you see, this will be the best! I don’t have to come up with small talk; I just dance with them, and then if I enjoy it, and I like them, then I can dance again.”

“How do you know if you will like them? You think fancy footwork is going to help you decide that a guy is worth getting to know?”

“No, it’s about chemistry. It’s about locking eyes and seeing if you can trust someone without them even opening their mouth. It’s about having fun and being different. Geez, Charlie, you’ve been on those dating apps for months. What has it gotten you?”

She shrugged as she sipped from her iced tea glass. “I’m not saying it’s wrong. I’m saying that it’s weird, and it’s absurdly weird for you.”

“Weird? I love to dance, and I’m thirty-four years old. It’s been four years since I was in a serious relationship, and I can feel my eggs drying up as we sit here.”

Charlie winced. “That’s gross to think about.”

“It’s the truth. I’m not getting any younger, and I want a man in my life. I want a family, and I want to plan a future.”

“How about some fries with that?” she added drolly.

“Come on, Charlie, I’m serious here.”

“Serious about what?”

“Finding love. I want to find love!”

“And you honestly think that you will find love by dancing with strangers? You don’t even like to take an Uber because the driver is a stranger.”

“It’s not the same thing. These men are vetted. They go through criminal background checks and medical exams to make sure they are healthy enough to participate. They also have extensive interviews, and one of the people that conducts the interviews is a psychologist. The producer told me that they weed out quite a few people in that process because they have odd tastes, or just weird the interviewers out.”

She gave me a dubious look. “Weird the interviewers out?”

I pursed my lips. “Come on, do you really think this is a bad idea?”

“For you? Yes. For anyone else? No, not at all.”

I startled back slightly. “What do you mean, for me, yes?”

“Ali, I love you to death, you know that. We have been besties since freshman year in college, but I can’t see you doing this. I’m worried that you will freak out at the last minute and end up not doing it, and then you will be mortified and stress over it for weeks.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but closed it and wilted slightly in my seat. “Okay, I get what you are saying.” I pushed some of my salad around on my plate. “But what if this works for me? What if I go out there and dance with these men and find one that I connect with? And what if I can do it without ever having to open my mouth and say anything? What if I have such a connection with one of them that it leads to a third date, a fourth, maybe a future?”

She blinked rapidly for a few seconds. “Do I need to remind you that you can’t dance? You trip over your own feet walking from the room, Ali. How do you think that you are going to dance when you are so nervous that you’ll probably puke? Five minutes ago, you were asking me why I talked you into doing this after you said you weren’t sure you’d be able to do it. Now you are acting like you are trying to convince me.”

“I’m not trying to convince you.” I paused. “Okay, maybe I am trying to convince you so that I convince myself that it’s a good idea.”

She rubbed her temples like she had a headache coming on.

“Look, I want to do it. I do. I really, really do, and I need you on my side. I need you to encourage me because you are right. When it gets time to go out there, I might be so nervous that I forget everything, and I’ll need someone to pick me up after I trip over my own feet and pass out from mortification.”

She reached over the table and put

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