Page 27 of Pity Pact

She exhales like she’s blowing out birthday candles. “I’m trying to keep you from getting cocky. Women don’t tend to go for that on these shows.”

“I’m not trying to be cocky, just self-assured.”

“I assure you it’s obvious to everyone that you are.I’mthe one who needs help in that department.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Paige. You’re smart, funny, and a delight to be with. Just be yourself and you’ll have all the men eating out of your hands.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Why did I ever agree to do this?”

“Because you’re ready to find love,” I remind her. “And your optimism is admirable.”

“I’m not feeling that optimistic right now. I’m scared.”

Once again, I want to hold Paige in my arms. And not just to offer comfort.

By the time our meal is over, I know one thing for sure. I’m going to have to watch myself around Paige Holland.

Once upon a time I might have considered her the perfect woman.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PAIGE

On my way home from dinner, I wonder how many kids from high school weren’t as awful as I remember them to be. Tim is right. People—particularly teenagers—are so wrapped up in their own dramas they rarely make time to think of others. I wish I’d had that insight as a kid, because maybe if I had, I’d have more confidence today.

Even though Tim and I agreed to a pity pact (note to self: there could be a Ted Talk here), I’m pretty sure he’s still not serious about looking for love. It’s too bad because he lives right here in Elk Lake, which means that if we hit it off romantically, I wouldn’t have to leave my family and friends. I’m not sure why I’ve decided that I’m the one who would have to move. It’s just there aren’t that many occupations that translate to a small town, and there are schools where I can teach everywhere.

As soon as I walk through the front door, I climb the stairs to my bedroom. Thus begins the thrill ride of trying to take off my dress. Leather does not breathe and as such it causes some perspiration. The result makes it feel like it’s been glued onto me. As soon as I’m unzipped, I fancy I can hear my skin cheer to havecontact with the air again. Bit by painstaking bit I peel the cowhide off my body, and when I’m finally free, I celebrate by falling onto the bed and vowing never to wear leather again. Then I call Missy.

“Hey, you.”

“Can you talk?” I ask.

“Of course.”

I stretch out and tell her, “You are never going to believe who's going to be a last-minute replacement onMidwestern Matchmaker.”

“Man or woman?” she wants to know.

“Man.”

“Do I know him?”

“Of course you do. How else would you be able to guess?”

“The only person I can think of is Tim Ferris, but there’s no way he’d ever go on a dating show. He’s not ready.”

“That’s what I thought, but it’s him.”

“What?!” I love that Missy is as surprised as I was.

“I know, right? I just had dinner with him, and he told me why he’s doing it.”

“You just had dinner with him? Where? Why? How did that happen?”

I explain the circumstances of our outing which seems to disappoint her. “We’re just friends,” I assure her. “And he only agreed to go on the show to try to make Eva jealous.”

“His ex-wife? Oh, Paige, that’s horrible.” Missy appears to share my concern.

---