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Iam absolutely, categorically,notexcited for my date.
It’s not even a real date.
Just a fake dinner to showcase a fake relationship in front of my very honest and trusting Nana who wouldn’t emotionally understand the concept if it was explained to her ten times. Which, I’m fairly sure, makes me a terrible person.
If she ever finds out this isn’t real, I’m toast.
She’ll never forgive me.
Worse, she’ll probably wonder where she went wrong.
Holy hell, and if she figures out that it’s all so I can give the bakery a second chance, will she even hold up at her age without a coronary event?
No, I can’t let her know.
I need her to believe it’s the Sugar Bowl’s legit success that’s allowing us to refurbish. The first long overdue upgrades we’ve had since she stepped aside.
I’m going to finally succeed, and all it cost me was my integrity and a big piece of my soul.
Sigh.
I lean in closer to the mirror to do my eyeliner.
If I’m wearing makeup, Nana willdefinitelythink this is the real deal. The last time I wore it regularly was when I was with Liam and we’d go out.
Not that I want to think about stupid Liam’s stupid face.
God, when did I get so jittery?
It’s not a real date.
It’s just Big Fish. Dexter. Dex.
I should probably start calling him Dex tonight because it seems more casual and feels less threatening. And if he calls me Junie, it might help.
Or it might make everything ten times worse.
Blech.
My hands go still as I stare at my reflection in my ancient bathroom mirror, second-guessing all my recent life decisions. The lighting in here is terrible.
My hair looks almost dull, a mousy red-brown, and I think I see every scar left behind by pimples from ten years ago.
“Oh God, will you stop?” I tell myself. “It’s not a date.”
Good thing, too.
Last time we met up, he almost kissed me.I think.
It’s hard to tell when he practically picked me up and chucked me out of his office right after that weird slow dance. The thing that left me humming all evening.
Pathetic, I know. But that’s what happens when I haven’t been with a guy in years, and Liam never danced with me once.
I’m not sure he had a romantic bone in his body. He was just familiar, comfortable, and manly enough at the time.
I guess hindsight works wonders for showing you how crappy your exes really were.
It also leaves me reeling at the contrast between Liam and Dexter freaking Rory.
