Page 53 of Lovetown, USA
“Is it?”
He shrugs. “You know what you want?”
I give the menu a better look and find that almost all of the dishes are love-themed. I finally settle on the Fond Filet with Amour au Gratin on the side. Barf.
Julie returns with two complimentary cocktails, pink with sugar rims and heart-shaped strawberry slices floating around on top. I don’t know whether to gag or to chug.
I mean, I drink it, of course, but I don’t love it. It’s sweet. Too sweet. But it’s numbing the pain of this date.
By the time the bread arrives, I know a lot more about my handsome companion. He’s 41, single, childfree, the oldest of three boys, and he works as a zookeeper at Maple Grove Zoo and Sanctuary.
Also?
He’s dry as hell.
I had to extract those answers out of him like a dentist pulling wisdom teeth.
“So I had to leave a little early today to get to you,” he’s saying. “Usually around this time, I’d be saying goodnight to all of the animals.”
“That’s…sweet.”
He shrugs. “It’s my job.”
I nod and try to find an angle on this conversation. Julie brings me another drink, then I shift into interview mode.
“So,” I say, leaning in like it’s all a big secret. “What attracted you to this place?”
He chews on a piece of brown bread. “Same as everyone, I suppose. It’s pleasant. Crime is low. And I wanna get married. I’m hitting the three-year mark soon.”
I blink. “Why is it so important for you to do it within that time? Do you wanna be part of the statistic?”
“The tax break,” he says casually.
I nearly choke on my pink cocktail. “The what?”
“Yeah. Extra deduction if you’re married here before your three years are up. Huge financial perk.”
I stare at him. “So you don’t wanna get married for companionship. Or romance. Or love.”
He shrugs again, unbothered. “I’m more pragmatic than romantic. It is what it is.”
I down the rest of my cocktail, suddenly feeling a kinship with this odd man.
Dinner, when it comes, is irritatingly delicious. The steak melts in my mouth, the potatoes are creamy heaven, and dessert…Chocolate Lovers Souffle for Two…nearly makes this entire evening worthwhile.
“Do you not like it?” I ask after he takes one bite of the souffle and sets his spoon down.
“It’s rich,” he says flatly. “Too rich for me. I prefer savory.”
“That’s too bad,” I say between bites. “You’re forcing me to eat this whole thing by myself, and that’s not good for my diet.”
“Diet?” he scoffs. “I don’t know what for. You look good to me.”
I smile and bat my lashes. “You’re sweet. Here, just one more bite.”
I scoop up a bit of souffle and hold my spoon out to him, staring into his eyes. He can’t resist, of course, and I can practically see his wheels turning, playingshe’s gonna let me fuckon loop in his head.
When it comes to being around men, this is the only part I like. The nice date, flirting, anticipation, and of course, the orgasms. It’s what comes later that makes me shut down, because it reminds me of what I lost. It reminds me that love is a fucking joke. All this shit around me, this whole city…it’s all a joke.
