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“This is Isabella, who went to college with Cheyenne; she married Jimmy.” She pointed to a brunette with blue eyes andthen to an auburn-haired, fair-skinned woman. “And this is Skylar, who is mom to the most adorable six-year-old on the planet and is married to Hank.”
“Hi, hi, hi, hi.” I smiled at all four women.
“And this is Skylar’s sister Ashley; she is going to be the next Picasso.” She pointed to a strawberry blonde who was slim but with curves that could be on a Victoria’s Secret runway. “And last but not least, Zoe, my childhood bestie and the hottest nurse at Hartland General.” Nadia motioned to the brunette with bright green eyes.
“Hi.” I waved to the group in general.
“Are you just here for the weekend?” Reagan asked.
“Yeah, I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Where do you live?” Bella grabbed a glass of champagne as the server walked by.
“Um, California. Santa Monica.”
“You are on Pulse? Right? You did that series on dating?” Ashley asked.
“Yeah.”
It didn’t surprise me that Ashley knew about the show. She looked younger than the other women and was in our target demographic.
“Show on dating?” Nadia perked up.
“Dating in the City,” Ashley filled her in. “Daphne goes out with five men each episode, and then viewers vote for who gets a second date, and then they have an update on social media of the second date.”
“Actually, there isn’t ever a second date,” I confessed, although I wasn’t sure why. I’d never told anyone that tidbit before.
Actually, I did know why. Going to fourteen different schools between kindergarten and high school graduation made me a pro at fitting in. Standing in the midst of theseintimidatingly beautiful women, who were clearly a tight-knit group, transported me right back to meeting the “popular” girls in school.
I hated that I still suffered from the impulse to fit in. To people please. For the past few years, I’d been doing everything in my power to detox myself from those tendencies, which is why I hadn’t been in a relationship.
Well, except for Kale, but I didn’t really think he counted since it wasn’t anything serious. It was the perfect arrangement for me. No commitment. No strings. Just fun. And it always worked out that just when I’d start feeling the familiar pangs of loneliness, he’d hit me up and tell me he wanted to see me. We averaged seeing each other four times per year, or in business terms, once a quarter.
“What do you mean?” Ashley looked crestfallen. “There are pictures of the second dates.”
“At the end of each date, we change our wardrobe and then take photos for that content,” I explained.
“So you and Paulo, the pediatrician?” Ashley asked.
“Never saw him again.”
“What about Matteo, the masseuse?” she questioned.
“I’m not his type.”
“Really? He seemed so into you.”
Most of the guys did, and they all had ulterior motives. Usually, they did the show to gain exposure for their business or to try and grab fifteen minutes of fame. It was the only reason I didn’t feel bad about going on the dates—since none of them were genuinely interested in finding love.
“He was more interested in our PA Ernie than he was me.”
“Oh.” Ashley nodded.
“Which is fair because he looks like a young Mario Lopez, dimples and all,” I explained.
“Speaking of dimples, can you believe Harlan went for five thousand dollars?” Nadia’s eyes widened.
Did Harlan have dimples? I hadn’t noticed. I was too distracted by his dreamy eyes and perfect lips.
