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She gives a pained smile, and I want to grab her wrist to keep her from taking off, but remember the cameras. I'm supposed to be on a date with the woman coming toward me, not worrying about the one next to me, even though she smells like apple pie. My favorite.

My date is smiling as she walks toward us, but for some reason I'm sizing up the guy like I'm Kenzie's protector.

He looks a bit nerdy, wearing suspenders and a bow tie, but he's not bad looking. What will Kenzie think?

"Hi, I'm Whitney," the woman says. I turn back to her and stick out my hand, but she rushes forward and gives me a hug around the middle. I have to lean my head back so she won't try to kiss me. Not that I’m against kissing, but I don’t need that five seconds after meeting. Or on camera.

"It's good to meet you, Whitney. Um, I'm Trey." And then my brain goes blank. Okay, that's a lie. I'm actually trying to hear what's going on in the conversation next to me.

"Uh, thanks for coming today?" Kenzie says, and I have to hold in a laugh. The girl is stiff as a board.

"Loosen up. Keep talking to your date," I hear through an earpiece. I'm getting personal coaching too? I didn’t know they were going to do that when we got set up with the microphones.

“Let's get in line, shall we?" I say, waving toward the dock for the boats.

Whitney slips her hand into mine and I can already feel the sweat beginning.

"So, I read you're from Cleveland. What brought you to Beantown?"

She frowns and looks up at me. "Beantown?"

"Sorry, that's a nickname we use for Boston."

She laughs and I paste on a smile at the shrill sound. Yeah, I don't know if I'll survive the boat ride, let alone dinner after. Did they mix up the person I was supposed to be with?

"I came here for college and got a job at the Prudential Center. I'm from a small town originally and this is so much better than I could've imagined. There's always something to do and restaurants to try out. With a crowd as big as the city, they don't know every intimate detail of my life, which is refreshing."

And now I feel bad. "I can understand that somewhat. I grew up here but with my job, it seems like everyone knows the big news before I do in my life."

We wait behind one of the groups who are getting on the swan boats. I turn, trying to hear, and include, Kenzie and her date.

He seems to be in a monologue state, talking about the fearless empire and the difference between the colors of the light sabers.

"I still can't believe you've never watched the movies, Kenzie," he says. "We should plan a day and binge-watch all of them."

She gives him wide eyes. "Aren't there nine?"

"Yes, but there are also a few shows, like The Mandalorian and Boba Fett. Those have several episodes. It would probably take an entire weekend to watch straight through."

She gives him a small smile. "I can't usually last for two movies in a row. Maybe breaking it up over several days would be better for me." Facts. We made it throughHitchand part ofShe’s the Manbefore she had to get up and move around.

Is she actually agreeing to watch the movies with him?

"The Star Wars franchise is so complex," Whitney says, now interested in the conversation.

I've watched all the movies the guy is talking about but that was in support of my little sister. She has been obsessed since she was young and it's all about the bonding time. Well, it’s usually her trying to explain why some small line is important while I smile and nod like I understand.

It's our turn to board so I take a step in front of Whitney to get in the boat and hopefully help her in. Instead, she tries to push past me and we nearly fall off the ledge and into the water.

“Let me help you in,” I say, trying to keep my calm.

Whitney smiles brightly. “Oh, sorry about that.” She glances down to where my hands are grasping her upper arms and is practically beaming at this point.

I let go and step into the boat, making sure to keep one foot on the shore to hold it as steady as possible. I’m not sure why the people who run the boat couldn’t help me with that much. Then again, I’m just glad I’m not soaking wet right now.

Whitney settles into a seat and I turn, reaching out for Kenzie’s hand. She shakes her head. “I’m good.”

“I don’t care if you’re good,” I say, trying to give her a look of warning. “My mother taught me some manners.”