Wrong Place, Right Time - Elle Casey Page 0,123

one that’s probably reflected on mine. He’s confused, but then it’s as if he’s seeing something funny.

I’m so embarrassed. He’s laughing at me! He’s probably noticed that I’m wearing the same dress that I wore last night. What does that say about me? Probably nothing good. He’s wearing a different shirt. Maybe he has on the same pants, but this shirt is definitely blue and the one he wore last night was yellow.

My eyes scan the crowd again. There’s another guy wearing a blue shirt here, but he’s got to be in his seventies. I don’t think it’s legal to Photoshop your picture that much.

Dev makes his way around the bar. I meet him halfway. He speaks first, saving me the trouble of having to come up with something charming and witty, a feat I’m completely incapable of accomplishing at this point.

“I guess I know where you’re meeting your date now.”

My smile probably looks more like a grimace than anything else. Humiliation level: Eight out of ten. “I guess you do. Seems like we have the same taste in bars.”

He nods and looks around, over my shoulder and then out to the sides.

I check my watch. I’m exactly on time. “So, your date’s not here yet either?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. It’s hard to say for sure, because I never saw her picture.”

I shake my head at him. “Why didn’t you look? How are you going to find her if you don’t know what she looks like?”

He shrugs. “I just figured she’d find me.”

I nod, feeling awkward but glad for the conversation. Silence would be worse. “I guess that’s a good strategy. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Plus, it takes all the pressure off. She can look at me and decide without confronting me whether she actually wants to talk to me or not.”

“That’s very considerate of you.” I look more closely at him, narrowing my eyes a little bit. He doesn’t seem at all worried about being stood up. “How long are you planning on hanging around here to see if she shows up?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. A half hour?”

I nod because I can’t think of anything else to do, and scan the crowd again. Just then, the door opens, and a man with a blue shirt walks in. He’s definitely heavier than I expected him to be based on his profile, but he does have brown hair like the man in the picture. I wait to see what will happen. He appears to be searching for someone.

Dev gestures with his chin. “Maybe that’s your guy. I should probably go, give you your space.”

“Okay,” I say, not really paying attention to Dev anymore. I’m focused on this new guy, trying to figure out if he’s the one I saw in the picture. I don’t think he is, though. His nose is totally different. Would somebody Photoshop a different nose onto his face like that? I should’ve looked at that picture more closely. I should’ve printed it out. Dev warned me that people play games on those sites. Imagining this guy being my date, I could just picture myself holding the printout up at his face, pointing at it in anger, and yelling, “Explain yourself, sir!” Photoshopping dating site pictures should be outlawed and violators pelted with rotten eggs. I hate this. What am I even doing here?

“I’m going to go back over to the corner,” he says. “You give me a signal if you have any problems.”

Dev has all of my attention now. “What? Are you like my bodyguard?”

He seems confused. “No. Not unless you want me to be.”

Maybe I’m still hurting over the fact that he wanted us to go out with other people after breaking my bed. My response comes out crankier than I mean for it to. “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I have pepper spray.” I pat the side of my purse confidently.

“You should get a Taser, like your sister. I’ve learned from firsthand experience that it’s very effective.”

Before I can ask him for more details, he leaves me standing there. I’m alone next to the bar now, and the man with a fake nose who I thought might be my date walks over to join a group of friends and grabs a beer from one of them. They all laugh at something he says.

If he is my date, he can forget it. I didn’t sign up for a fake nose or a group gathering. My righteous indignation disappears a few moments