Page 33 of Love Rescheduled

Before I changed my mind, I grabbed my bag and ran out the door. I was tired of being lonely, and I was the queen of schedules. I could do this. I just needed to skirt past my ex. Ugh.

The clicking of my stupid heels against the hardwood floors alerted Josh to my presence before I had a chance to brace myself.

He sat up from his mopey lying-on-the-couch position. He had been staring aimlessly at the TV while his favorite show, Ridiculousness, which was basically a panel of people watching stupid viral videos and making fun of them, filled the room with noise. It was Josh’s dream to be a guest panelist one day.

“I’m leaving,” I rushed to say. “There’s food in the refrigerator. Goodbye.”

“Wait.” His eyes roved over me. “You look great.” He didn’t sound pleased about it.

“I look boring, but thanks.” I started to leave again.

He did another take. “I don’t know why you’re always so down on yourself. Nothing you wear could ever be boring on that body of yours.”

I bit my lip, thinking it probably wasn’t good that I wanted to kiss Josh for his sweet comment, seeing as I was going on a date with another man.

“I never understood why you wanted to be like everyone else. There’s a quiet confidence about you.”

“Me? Confident?” I laughed.

“Laugh all you want, but the fact that you don’t follow the crowd says a lot about you.”

I wanted to believe him. Even more, I had this urge to stay home with him and cuddle on the couch. “I need to go.” Like now.

“Don’t you think you should tell me where you’re going?” Was he for real?

“No.”

“Aren’t you worried at all? This guy could be a serial killer.”

Of course I was. That’s why I did one of those online background checks on him. Not to say I wasn’t still worried. Honestly, I asked myself that about almost everyone I met, even Josh in the beginning. “That’s why I told Jolene and Tara where I’m going to be. And I’m meeting him there.”

“They’re hours away. What good will they do you?”

“What good would anyone do if he’s really a serial killer?” The thought made me queasy. Maybe I should just stay home.

“How many documentaries have we watched together about this very subject? They don’t usually kill their victims right away.”

We were obsessed with watching them when we were dating. It was a morbid curiosity to be sure. But many psychologists believe it’s because it represents the human condition, complete with heroes and villains, so it wasn’t actually a psycho thing to do.

“True, but how would you find me?” I posed an important question.

His soulful chocolate eyes bored into mine. “I’d find you, Nat.”

I believed him—heart and soul. “Fine. I’ll be at Café Des Artistes. His name is Seth Kristoff. Do not—I repeat—do not show up.”

He faux stabbed a knife into his chest. “Why would I do that? Do you think I want to see you on a date with another man?”

“I guess not.”

“Here’s a news flash: I don’t. Try to find out the make and model of the car he drives and then text me.”

“I’m not going to text you while I’m on a date.”

“Go to the bathroom and do it.”

“No. That would mean leaving my drink unattended, and what if he slips me something?” He was a doctor, after all. I had way overthought this. I was about to overthink myself right out of it.

“Good point. Keep an eye on your drink at all times. And whatever you do, don’t go home with him,” he stressed emphatically.

---