Page 3 of Pretend Girlfriend

Joanna

Listen. I’d been on a lot of Tinder and Bumble dates. Way too many, if I were being completely honest. And in every single case, the guys had hand-picked photos for their profile that showed them in the best possible way. They were never as attractive in real life. That’s just how online dating went.

This guy was different.

It was definitely the Theo I had chatted with on the app, but it was like he had actively downplayed his appearance on his profile. In real life, everything was more striking: the broadness of his shoulders underneath his button-down shirt; the chiseled jawline; the wavy brown hair and thin beard; the sharp almond eyes. It was like receiving a wagyu filet after expecting a greasy cheeseburger.

Theo the Beefcake starts with two points.

“Theo, hi!” I said.

Jack looked up at my date, then turned to me and grinned.

Theo frowned down at both of us. “Am I interrupting something…?”

“This is my brother,” I quickly said. “He was just leaving.”

“I was. Right. Sorry about that.” Jack stood and clapped Theo on the back. “She likes eggs for breakfast. Scrambled hard.”

“Thank you, Jack,” I hissed.

Theo watched him leave, then sat down in his chair. He was a big man in all the best ways. After Jack had been sitting there, it was like a boy being replaced by a man.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “My brother is annoying.”

Theo shrugged. “No worries. I get it.”

I cocked my head. “Get what?”

“Having someone else here to check out your date. Making sure everything is kosher and that I’m not, like, a serial killer or something.” He pointed with his thumb at the table next to us. “That’s why I had Marie come here first to get a good look at you.”

I gave a start. “Wait, seriously?”

The woman sitting alone at the table next to us glanced over in confusion. “Huh? My name is Helen.”

“Good answer,” Theo told her. “Keep your cover.” Then he leaned across the table and whispered to me: “I’ve never met that woman before in my life.”

A good sense of humor? Three more points for Theo the Hunk. For those keeping score at home, that meant he was already halfway into my pants before the date had even begun.

Giggling, I said, “That wasn’t why my brother was here.”

“What was he doing, then?”

“Something much, much dumber. It’s a long story.”

Theo flashed a perfect white smile. “Dumb long stories are my favorite kind.”

“I promise to tell you about it later,” I said.

Theo squinted suspiciously at me, but then shrugged. “Fair enough. What are we drinking tonight? I’m in the mood for a cocktail.”

Our drinks arrived: a strawberry martini for me, and a whiskey sour for him. Then we settled into the same small talk that happened on every first date:

The weather in Chicago lately (beautiful.)

The traffic on the interstate (awful.)

Which Metra lines we took to get here (MD-W for me, UP-N for him.)

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