Page 2 of Lethal Seduction

Dammit, this is not going well. I need a distraction, something interesting to happen, so I don’t simply get up and walk away. My date takes another large piece of meat and plops it into his wide-open trap. Maybe he’ll choke. Cringing at my own intrusive thoughts, I look away.

With a sigh, I take a sip of wine and clear my mind of all this negative energy. Maybe I should try starting a conversation with Brandon… or is it Blake? The younger guy hasn’t asked me a single thing about myself since we arrived, except thinly veiled enquiries about money. He’s more interested in my salary than me as a person. Doesn’t seem to give a shit at all about anything else, not even my job, which usually at least gets me a second date from time to time.

“Tell me a little more about yourself… Blake?” God, I hope that’s his name.

He stops mid-chew, a blankness settling across his beautiful features. “Like what?” He continues to slowly roll the half-masticated piece of dead cow around in his slack-jawed pie-hole.

Breathe, Michael. Breathe.

I suppose I got his name right, which is good. Why is dating so hard? “What do you do for a living?” I ask.

Blake smiles and coyly plays with the wine glass in front of him, swirling its contents around like he knows what he’s doing. He makes a mockery of sniffing the contents before sipping a bit of it into his mouth.

Damn, should I have carded Blake before offering him something to drink? There isn’t a single wrinkle on his flawless face. His eyes are bright and sparkle with life and vitality. He is truly gorgeous but vapid.

I sigh. Despite me being physically attracted to him and his perfect body, we probably don’t have anything in common except how beautiful we both think he is.

“I’m only twenty-one, honey,” Blake says. “There’s plenty of time for me to figure out what I want in life.” He takes another stab at the steak, mixes it with the mashed potatoes, and plops it into his mouth.

“Fair enough,” I say. “Do you have any hobbies? Your online profile said you were an avid photographer.”

He snickers. “I wouldn’t say avid. I take nude selfies and post them on subscription sites for money.”

I sigh, louder than intended, but it can’t be helped. There isn’t anything wrong with someone trying to make a living, and I definitely don’t want to kink-shame him for his life choices, but I’ve been down this route before with dates recently. Ultimately, it never ends well. The last two men who did the online sex site thing demanded I show up online with them while wearing my uniform. No way in hell was I ever going to put my career at risk to get a little action.

“Your turn,” Blake says. “What do you do?”

Oh, here we go. A decent question. Although, I know I’d mentioned it in our brief interaction on the app, but now meeting him in person I can tell he never read my responses. “I’m a detective for the Los Angeles Police Department.”

“So, you chase after bad guys?”

“Among other things, yes. I always wanted to be a cop… ever since I was a little kid. There was something about making the bad guys accountable for their actions… you know? Keeping the good people of the world safe. Probably sounds pretty corny.”

Blake takes a sip of his rosé. “Cop… got it.”Did he just roll his eyes?Clearly he’s not impressed with my earning potential, but there’s more to it than that. Whatever. At this point, I don’t much care… this date has been more effort than it’s worth.

Silence settles over the table once again. I internally scream. Trying a new dating app has once again been a big mistake, but I’ve been reminded a million times by my best friend, Leah, thatI need to put myself out there. What song does she always start singing to me? Oh, that’s right, “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher. I definitely don’t need a reminder that in the gay world, I’m getting older fast, I’ve reached daddy status in some circles. There aren’t a lot of stops left along the way before I become completely invisible or irrelevant… or both.

My stomach clenches, and I put down the fork, the soft clink on the porcelain dinner plate breaking my self-deprecating thoughts.

I better keep him talking so I don’t get up and leave his ass here. “Where are you from, Blake?” I don’t care, but the silence is killing me.

He takes another sip of wine. “Kansas.”

“What brought you here to Los Angeles? I bet that was quite the change from where you’re from.”

“I’m going to be the next Matt Damon,” he says, dramatically looking off into the distance.

“Oh, very nice,” I say sincerely. “I’ve never been much of an actor myself. I have a ton of respect for the industry though. Long days of shooting scenes and memorizing scripts. It can’t be easy.”

Blake shrugs and gulps down more wine. His last mouthful appears to swish around in his mouth like mouthwash before he swallows it. Where in the Dante’s nine levels of hell have I found myself this evening?

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. When I get my big break, I’ll make this town my bitch. I’ll set my own schedule. Only work the days and times that suit me—trust me on that.” He stabs his fork into the chunk of steak on his plate with gusto.

Me. Me. Me.Does he ever think about anyone else? “Do you have an agent?”

“Honey, look at me. I don’t need an agent.”

Conceited and lazy.“Your confidence is inspiring,” I say. Every last drop of sarcasm lost on him. “I’ve never been one to be comfortable without planning out my path before I start down it. Maybe it’s a control thing, but there’s something to be said about knowing what’s coming next. You know what I mean?”

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