Page 66 of The Singles Club
This was bad.
“I’ll be right back.” I stood up with phone in hand and ran outside, where it was quieter. I tapped Justin’s name in my contacts list and bounced my foot up and down as I waited for him to pick up. No answer.
Dammit. How did I not see that?
The Picasso. I was so focused on that… and Justin… that I never noticed the DVD.
All three of them looked up at me when I got back to the table. “He’s not answering. Probably set his phone to silent for his date.”
“By the way,” Crystal said. “What the hell was porn doing on his dining room table?”
I explained the whole mix-up. Crystal and Becky laughed, but Isabella and I didn’t find it so hilarious. If it were anyone else, we probably would.
“Hopefully, Annette didn’t notice it,” I said.
“Who is Annette?” Becky asked.
“The woman he is meeting right now for a date at Sorellina.”
“That’s like ten minutes away by cab.” Crystal grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”
“What?” I shook my head. “I’m not stalking him.”
“He’s either going to need saving or his dating coach when it’s over, so get moving… and if she did notice, Idon’twant to miss this.”
“And he needs to delete that profile before any of his clients see it.” Isabella called the waiter over for the check.
And if they did, it would be my fault. I pushed Justin into this when he clearly didn’t want to do it.
* * *
Justin
Annette was taller in person than I imagined her to be. She really was beautiful, like she just stepped off a billboard. The gold dress she was wearing was subtle in style and suited her perfectly. Her long platinum hair swirled over her right shoulder. She seemed like the type of person who would fit in at one of Vivian’s Paris parties, and I had no idea how to approach her. Everything about her seemed flawless, which made me feel even more uncomfortable.
Treat it like a business meeting. A pretend date. If we don’t click, then end the meeting politely when the time is right.
I let out a deep breath and approached her at the bar. “Annette?”
She turned my way and smiled. It was warmer than I expected. This was good.
“Justin.” She held out her hand like a princess would. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Do I shake her limp hand? I sure as hell wasn’t going to kiss it.
I opted for a quick squeeze. “Would you like to stay here and have a drink together first, or should I get us a table?”
“A table would be nice.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“What would you like?” She gestured to the bar. “I can order you a drink.”
She was thoughtful. I could do thoughtful.
“Rémy Martin, please.”
I had already called in a reservation beforehand, and when I greeted the hostess, I asked to have our drinks and tab moved to the table. I offered my hand when Annette stepped down from the barstool. She didn’t strut, but she did stride without overdoing it. I liked her subtlety.
