Page 90 of Even Ground

“Right this way,” a waiter says, and leads us to our table before presenting us with menus. “I’ll be back shortly to take your order.”

We both say, “Thank you” before Devon asks, “Anything look good?”

“Oooh, they have steamed mussels. That sounds like me.”

Devon screws up his face. “I think I’ll just have a steak. The food here is apparently quite good.”

“I hope so.” I laugh.

Once our order is taken and the drinks arrive, he takes a sip of his beer and shuffles in his seat.

“Shit,” he mumbles.

I cock an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at me, his mouth a tight line, his expression so sheepish I can’t wait to see what comes out of his mouth. “I’ve left my wallet at home.”

Oh.

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

He raises his shoulders in an attempt to look, I guess, cute? But I’m no fool and there’s a reason why I don’t date much.

I don’t say anything because there’s no way I’m offering to pay for this. While I would have been happy to go halves, I should have clarified that before we came out. This is the dumbest trick this guy could have tried to play on me.

I scrunch up my napkin and place it on the table. “I just need to go to the bathroom. Be back in a tick.”

Before he can respond, I stand up and walk away. There’s a young woman behind the bar in the corner, so I approach her.

“Excuse me. Do you have a back door I can sneak out of?”

She snorts, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“I’m on a blind date, and the guy is a total dick.”

Her lips curl. “I totally understand that. Come this way.”

I glance over my shoulder. Devon’s picking at his nails and looking around the room. His gaze finds mine, and I give him a quick smile before heading past the bathrooms and to a door marked exit.

“Here you go. Can you get home safe, or do you need me to call a taxi?”

I pluck my phone out of my bag and hold it up. “I’ll get an Uber. Thank you so much.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome. We’ve all been there.”

I step through the door and into a car park. There’s plenty of street lighting, and it’s not like I’m escaping into the dark. I make my way to the footpath and pull up the Uber app to request my ride.

This has to be some kind of record for me. I’ve escaped bad dates before, but this is the earliest I’ve taken off.

I wonder how long it’ll take for him to realise I’m not coming back?

Swiping out of the app, I bring up my contact list and block his number. At least now he can’t call me when he realises I’ve gone.

I’m not disappointed. It’s sad, but at least I know how to take care of myself. And it’s not like I knew him well enough to be heartbroken by what’s happened.

I could have done without having to pay for an Uber, but I’ll know better than to go on a blind date next time.

It’s still early when I get home, and I tug off my clothes, slipping on my pyjama shorts and tank top before climbing onto the bed.

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