Page 43 of It's a Date (Again)

Robbie, Maya, and Debbie each deliver a sympathetic look.

“Not super serious,” Maya says.

Debbie taps her finger against her chin, pondering. “I think all of yours have ended under the eight-month mark.”

My eyes widen. “Why?”

“They just weren’t right for you.” Robbie pulls his brows together.

I lean back into the cushion and put a pillow in my lap, folding my arms over it. “It sounds like I’m a red flag too.”

“No, sweetie.” Debbie gives me an endearing look. “You’re like a walnut, tough to crack.”

I let out a huff. “Sounds more like tough to love.”

Maya turns her body toward me and grabs my hand. “That’s not true. We all love you,” she says.

“But you’re like family. I’m talking a romantic relationship.” I press my lips together, forming a straight line, and let my shoulders slump. If that were true, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I would have woken up in that hospital with the love of my life sitting beside me, waiting for me to come back to him. I would have known instantly even without my memories that he was my other half. But instead, it was three guys I’ve been serial dating for less than two months, and my heart has no clue which one I truly love.

“You have three guys vying for you, and any one of them would be lucky to be with you,” Robbie says. His face has turned serious. “Trust me, Peyton, you’re not hard to love.”

“He’s right.” Debbie smiles warmly.

Maya pats my hand and leans back in her seat. “And if I didn’t love you, I’d have pretended I didn’t know you when I realized you had amnesia. Like the husband inOverboard, I would have been like, ‘Peace out, stranger.’”

I let out a laugh. They’re right. I may not know which of these men I love, but I know I love Maya, Robbie, and Debbie, and they love me back. That’s been enough for me all this time.

“All right, are you good to continue?” Robbie asks.

I nod.

He returns to his oversized notepad, flipping the page. “Moving on to Shawn Morris.” There’s a drawing of an airplane with money fallingfrom it. His name is written at the top, and there’s a bullet point list beneath it. “Shawn is originally from Chicago. He’s thirty-four and one of three children. He’s more of a homebody, probably because he travels so much for work. It appears he either enjoys interior design or hires someone to do it for him. His apartment is remarkable. I’m talking sleek and modern with a rustic feel. Very bachelor pad style in a classy, upscale way.”

“Can you stop talking about his apartment? And tell us about him?” Maya says.

“Fine. I was just very impressed. He lives in a high-rise in the Gold Coast. He’s neat and organized, and also a gym rat. I’m talking daily Instagram Stories of him hitting the weights,” Robbie says. “I’ve actually started doing some of his routines.” He flexes his bicep.

“You’ve been watching his daily Insta Stories?” Maya asks.

“Yeah, for research, obviously.”

“You know he can see who watches them?”

“I did not know that.” Robbie lowers his head. “So that is going to be awkward if it’s brought up. Anyway, he works in consulting, as you all know, hence the airplane with all the monies. He’s also a foodie and enjoys fine dining. Background check was clean as a whistle.”

“What’s the catch then?” I ask.

Robbie turns the page and flicks his pointer at the paper. Written eight times in all caps is the wordRELATIONSHIPS.

“What does that mean?” Debbie asks.

“He’s had a lot of serious relationships.”

I squint. “Do any of them overlap?”

“Not that I could find. It seems on average his relationships last one to two years. And he was engaged once.”

“Why did the engagement end?”

---