Page 16 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

I shove a mouthful of tiramisu in my mouth and remain schtum.

Just between us though … not only did I discover the photo while I was cleaning, and again, I use the term cleaning lightly, because three visits in and I still haven’t had to do anything really, but anyway, there was a newspaper sitting on his desk.

Specifically, in his in-tray.

Bold as brass.

Folded neatly at the crossword.

The one remaining clue in the crossword practically screaming at me, pleading with me to put it out of its misery by completing it.

I love crosswords.

Used to time myself doing them.

I sneak a look at Zach. He is looking marginally more relaxed so I won’t tell him that.

I look at Oz.

He is busy devouring his own portion of tiramisu.

I can’t look at Carlos for fear of being hauled out on my ass and handed over to the Embarrassingly Crap at Dating authorities.

Help?

I used to be okay at this, I think.

Dating.

I definitely didn’t use to get drunk on two glasses of wine because I was so tired.

Or so wired.

When did the nervous energy become my mortal enemy?

Because I swear, I used to be better at making a good first impression.

I was good at flirting.

Great at it.

Before my bestie, Sarah, had to move away, I helped her through all her first-date nightmares. Standing further down from her at the bar so that she could have her moment to shine with a potentially great guy. Feeding her lines via text when she got tongue-tied.

Then, sitting at tables in coffee houses, doing crosswords while covertly making sure she was okay as meeting-in-the-bar turned into a first date.

Me, always having her back.

Her, having mine right back.

My gaze goes automatically to the table behind Oz and Zach.

It is empty.

Emotion hits me like a wrecking ball, making me lurch to my feet, nearly dragging the kitsch tablecloth with me. ‘Excuse me,’ I mumble. Three pairs of eyes look at me expectantly. ‘Restroom,’ I mutter, making a break for it.

I stumble my way through the tables heading for the back of the restaurant and push open the right-hand side door.

Inside I stare at myself in the mirror, frowning helplessly.

---