Page 35 of Forbidden Puck
“No. I've never used any apps to meet people,” Ella said.
“Oh. Wow. That's rare these days.”
“Is it?” Our drinks arrived, and Ella took a sip from her straw. “Maybe that's what I'm doing wrong, then.”
I raised a brow. “You're doing something wrong?”
“Oh, I dunno. I just have trouble meeting people, I guess. I'm always working, so I don't go out too much. And all the guys I do meet are just …blah.”
I shook my head. “Dating apps won't help you then.”
“Why not?”
“You won't meet any quality guys on there. You'll only meet guys like me.”
She giggled and rolled her eyes at me. “Professional hockey sleazes, you mean?”
“Something like that.” I paused. “You know, that's surprising. I would've thought that dating in New York would be really easy for someone like you. You're obviously a smart, attractive girl, and you run your own business. You've got a lot going for you. And there'ssomany people in that city. There's gotta be some quality guys out there.”
“Right? That's what you'd think. But there's only one quality man in my life.” She swiped on her cell phone and showed me a picture of a mottled gray and white cat. “His name is Eucalyptus.”
“Oh, God.” I slapped my forehead. “I didnothave you pegged as a crazy cat lady.”
She giggled. “I'm not. I swear I'm not. But look, this is how dating is in New York . . .”
I listened as Ella explained her struggles of meeting a decent man in New York City. As she told it, it was a city full of guys who were only interested in a girl long enough to find out if he could sleep with her. No one was interested in something longer term. She also explained that guys were rather intimidated by her tendency to speak her mind and tell the truth—if not put off by it completely.
Then she told me about the last guy she was dating. A lawyer named Matthew. She told me about their breakup—and what he said to her. He couldn't stand her, and the only reason he stayed with her was so he could brag to his beer league team that he was banging Lance's sister. And, to add insult to injury, he told Ella that she was a “seven at best” (which is so far from the truth, and such an insulting thing to say to a woman, I ground my teeth in anger).
“He actuallysaidall that to you?”
“Yup.”
I clenched my glass of beer so hard, I thought the glass might shatter in my fist.
“Where does his beer league play?”
She answered right away. “Chelsea Piers in New York.” Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait, why? You're not going to go beat him up, are you?”
The fantasy made me smirk. “Would you be mad if I did?”
She took a second to think it over before she wore a smirk of her own. “I suppose I wouldn't stop you.”
“Add it to my bucket list, then. One of these days I'll have to swing by Chelsea Piers and body-check some asshole lawyer named Matthew.”
She let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Radar, you can't talk to a girl like that … you'll only get her hopes up and everything.”
I leaned forward and growled. “Sorry, but I still can't get over that. He was only banging you for bragging rights? Who the hell says something like that?”
She bobbed her head from side to side, as if she were considering telling me something or leaving it be.
“Slight correction,” she said at last, “but just to be clear, hewasn't'banging' me.”
“Hm?”
“We hadn't slept together. He was bragging to his buddies that we were, but we hadn't yet. I guess that's why he stayed with me for as long as he did, even though he found me so insufferable.”
They never slept together?
