Page 45 of Dashing for Love

Reid absolutely buys me the strawberry shake, but only after loudly proclaiming his dislike for it to the entire diner. To my credit, I keep from checking my phone the entire time we’re eating.

Which is for the best, because there’s no response from Dawn when I get home, and none by the time I finally drift off to sleep.

It’s over. And honestly? It sucks.

Chapter 17

Goldie

MATTY’S MESSAGES ARE haunting me. It practically melted my phone all day yesterday, and even JJ noticed I was staring at my screen more than usual. Of course, his gossip antenna went up, but I kept him at bay.

I don’t know what to do, and I need to talk to someone. I can’t talk to Willa. Or Reid. Ox might actually be an option, but that feels weird, too.

Mom and Dad are out. Like,wayout.

That leaves Agatha.

And isn’t that something?

I’m knocking on her door before I can think twice.

“Goldie!” She smiles wide as she opens the screen door to let me in. “To what do I owe the pleasure of an early-morning visit? Have you reconsidered my offer to set you up with someone? Because I just got word of a new man in town. He’s in his forties, but?—”

“I’m kind of involved with Matty Brodigan but he doesn’t know it’s me and we made out in a dark room at the masqueradeball and did some other things later and now I think I need to tell him it’s me but I’m scared and I need help.”

Agatha blinks.

I blow out a breath and smile like a maniac. “Help?”

The old woman doesn’t miss a beat, smiling brightly and stepping back to wave me in. “Well, it seems we have some work to do!”

In moments, she’s got me seated at her kitchen table with some coffee and a slice of lemon poppyseed bread.

“I think you should start at the beginning. Leave nothing”—she touches my arm— “and I meannothingout.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

She laughs. “Dear, have you bothered to do the math on me? I was in my twenties in the sixties. You’ve heard of that decade, right? The one called thesexual revolution?” She titters and brings her cup to her mouth for a sip. “You kids these days think you’re the first generation to have orgies. I swear.”

I nearly choke on my coffee.Orgies?Holy shit.

“Agatha!”

She shrugs primly. “See? You’re shocked.” She sets her cup down. “Get over yourself and tell me the story.”

So I do. After a moment. Because I need to, well, get over myself. I tell her everything: signing up for the app a year ago, hearing nothing, the initial outreach and decision on both our parts to keep the mystery going, my shock at realizing it was him at the ball, changing my voice, the make-out session, the orgasm session, and so on.

“What do I do?”

“You come clean. Tell him it’s you.”

I gape at her. “But?—”

She waves my protest away. “Goldie. What do you have to lose?”

“Everything!” I sputter. “I have everything to lose!”

She tilts her head and regards me. “Okay, but what do you have right now?”

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