Page 3 of One and Only

“He was short,” he said.

I ate two pieces before I answered. “Too short, Rocco.”

“Who’s next?” he asked.

“I don’t even remember,” I answered glumly.

Rocco snapped to attention. “Incoming.”

I pinched my eyes shut. “Tell me.”

His facial expression was cautiously optimistic. “A seven. Maybe an eight if you can get him to fix the clothes.”

“Really?” I smoothed a hand over my hair and snatched one more piece of bread. “You’re a godsend, Rocco.”

Contestant four was, unfortunately, a complete pig.

Even though he gave me a warm, thorough study from head to toe as I approached the table, it didn’t take long to knock him off the list once he opened his mouth.

“Normally, I like my girls short”—he leaned forward, eyes locked on my mouth—“but I think you could convince me to try to wrangle those legs around my shoulders pretty easily.”

“Rocco,” I called out. “We’re done here.”

Contestant four sat back with a shocked grin. “What’s that mean?”

Rocco appeared at the table. “Sorry, man, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“Bitch,” he muttered as he stood.

“Have a good night, asshole,” I called after him. I slumped in my seat.

Hostess Miranda approached. “Do you have some time to eat before the next one?”

Wearily, I glanced at my watch. “Yeah, maybe something quick.” Then I sighed, setting my forehead in my palm. “Next guy isn’t a date, thankfully. It’s a business meeting. Shouldn’t take much longer than thirty, though. Then one last guy after him.”

Miranda patted my arm. “Rocco’s getting you some food.”

“Thank you.” I lifted my head and smiled. “You two are the best.”

She rolled her lips together, eyeing me curiously. “You’re like … hot. And you seem really nice. I don’t understand what you’re doing with these guys.”

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

I hated crying. My family had done enough of it the past few months, and I always kept my shit together when everyone else was falling apart.

Crying wouldn’t help anything. Not tonight.

My shoulders slumped, weariness cutting down to the bone. “Have you ever been willing to do something insane … just to make someone you love happy?”

Miranda nodded slowly.

“That’s what I’m doing. I’ll probably regret it,” I added. “If that helps.”

A group arrived at the restaurant, and Miranda gave me a regretful look. “Sorry, I gotta go seat them.”

“Go ahead.” I watched her walk away. Maybe I’d invite Rocco and Miranda to my fake wedding.

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