Page 37 of Swiped
Rami:Oh no did Nat Lane get stood up???
She watched his dots, and not just because it made not-crying easier when she had something to look at.
Rami:And on the eve of my own very promising date with a lovely woman, no less?
She gasped in spite of herself. The text landed like a punch in the gut. Then anger took its place. Who actually talked like that? Let alone texted like that? This was all his fault, anyway. She typed in a reply.
Nat:Nope. Just curious
She scanned the room yet again. No Nick. Her phone buzzed.
Rami:OK good cuz that would’ve sounded really insensitive. Sorry
Nat shook the heavy sadness from her shoulders.
Nat:Gotta go. Ordering another round
Rami:Ooh la la
She put her phone in her purse. Should she just go home? She had a vision of herself laughing fabulously at the bar as she enjoyed a solo meal. It would be the strong, feminist move to make, surely. But who has tapas alone?
The hostess approached with clicking heels. “Are you waiting for an online date?” she asked.
“That’s personal.”
She cocked her perfect head. “Is it? You’re in a public place of business.”
Suddenly, Nat hated this woman, and deeply. “Well maybe it’s none ofyourbusiness.”
“It’s literally my job.” She produced another frown-smile. “Anyway, some sad guy has been at a table in the back for the last thirty minutes and, I don’t know, something tells me you two are a match.”
Suddenly, Nat loved this woman. “Where? Is his name Nick?”
The hostess rolled her fake-lashed eyes. “Don’t know. But he has Big Nick Energy.”
“Look, I know you’re making fun of me, but Iamhere on an online date, OK?” Nat balled her fists as she felt the rant swelling inside her. “And he’s super late, and he hasn’t texted, and I was all excited to meet him because we’ve been talking for days, andso I’m embarrassed enough right now, OK? And please tell me the brand of foundation that you use!”
The hostess put her hands on Nat’s shoulders and twisted her to see into the restaurant. She pointed to a table nearly hidden behind a concrete pillar. “He’s really hot, OK?” she said. “So even if he’s not your date, so what? Go have fun.”
Nat squinted through the low light. There, slumped at a table by himself, was Nick.
And he was, indeed, really hot.
“That’s him!” she cried, jumping up and down. “That’s totally Nick!”
“Nailed it,” said the hostess without expression.
Nat turned to her savior. “Do I look OK?”
“Sure, yes. Go.”
“Good, yes, but come with me? I’m too nervous.” Nat stopped. “No, you’re too pretty, stay here.” She stopped again. “No, come with me. Please?”
The hostess sighed and curled a long, manicured finger. “Right this way.”
Nat giggled as they neared the table. She felt like it was Christmas morning and she’d just seen the Barbie Dream House-shaped package under the tree.
“Nick?” she said.
