Page 239
Story: Delicious
“Doubt you’ll knock him dead looking like something a cat puked up. Reschedule it.” I shrug.
“I can’t.” He groans and splashes some more water onto his face. “Robbie set it up, but he didn’t give me the guy’s phone number. I can’t call or text to cancel and Robbie’s phone is going straight to voicemail.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Go instead?” he suggests.
“Be your blind date understudy?” I bark out a laugh. “That doesn’t sound weird or anything.”
“Please?” Tony holds his hands out in a begging gesture. “Robbie said he’s really sweet and I hate the idea of him waiting around, feeling like an idiot, thinking I stood him up.”
My stomach sinks. Shit, I can’t let someone think they got stood up. I sigh and drag my fingers through my hair, damp and flat from wearing a hairnet all day.
“Fine, I’ll go tell him you’re sick and reschedule it for you. You owe me big though.”
“Huge,” he agrees, bobbing his head eagerly.
Whatever. I can do my brother a favor and keep this guy from the trauma of wondering if his blind date showed up, saw him, and left. It’s not like I have to actually take him out. I’ll just let him know what’s up and then come right home. Easy peasy.
“Let me hop in the shower really quick.” I shoo him out of the way so I can turn the water on.
“You’re the best,” he says, looking slightly less pale already.
I muss his hair and then tilt my head towards the kitchen. “Go put my tacos in the fridge and get yourself a ginger ale. I’ll be out in a few.”
He disappears and I shake my head again. First date I’ve had in months and it’s not even mine.
Dylan
“Okay, now remember, Guillermo, if I tap my foot twice, I want you to start barking and pulling on the leash so I have an excuse to blow off this date. Got it?”
My dog chuffs and licks his lips, his tail thudding against the leg of the park bench with a hollowthwack, thwack, thwack. We really should have practiced this escape maneuver more. He had it down at home, but there are a lot more exciting distractions at the park.
I shift around on the bench, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans and tightening my hold on Guillermo’s leash. Not that he’s going anywhere. He’s crawled under the bench and made himself comfortable at this point, and I’m sure he’d be happy to snooze there the rest of the night if it were up to him. This isn’t a leisurely trip to the park though, this is an embarrassing, awkward blind date and he’s my ticket out of it. I look over my shoulder, cataloging everyone who passes. I don’t even know what Tony looks like thanks to Robbie’s insistence thatblinddate means no pictures beforehand. I told him he was taking it way too literally, and then we cleaned maggots out of a cow’s prolapsed uterus and didn’t argue about it anymore.
The rhythmic sound of Guillermo’s panting is oddly relaxing. I glance over at Holy Guacamole. The order window is shuttered, but I blush anyway, remembering how tongue tied I got earlier. Thank god Bas isn’t still working. The last thing I need is any kind of audience for the shit show this blind date is bound to be.
As if I needed any further proof that there is a god and he’s extremely into irony at my expense, I spot Bas walking down the path into the park.
“Shit, be cool,” I mutter to myself. As if being cool was ever one an option.
My fidgeting has Guillermo crawling back out from under the bench and cocking his head with interest. I stare at the fountain in front of me, taking slow breaths and willing myself to calm down. Bas probably won’t even see me. He’s on his way home or out for a stroll. He has better things to do than come over here and?—
“Precious?”
“Fuck,” I gasp, swiveling my head in his direction and biting down on my tongue. “I mean, hi. Hello. Um, Bas.” I brandish my hand in a jerky wave, heat rising in my cheeks rapidly. “What are you doing here?”
He chuckles and cards his fingers through his hair. I follow the motion, momentarily entranced by the way his messy curls bounce. I’ve never seen him without a hairnet on. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen anything below his chest either. I sweep my eyes over him, noticing the way his jeans fit and the fact that his tennis shoes are hot pink. I sputter a laugh. I don’t know why, but hot pink tennis shoes are exactly what I would have expected Bas to be wearing if I’d had to guess.
“I’m supposed to be meeting someone, actually,” he says, looking around like he’s expecting somebody with a much better command of their own stupid mouth to appear at any second.
He has a date.
Why does that make me want to punch something?
Guillermo whines at my feet, drawing Bas’s attention. He smiles widely, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.
“I love dogs. Can I pet him?”
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