Page 29 of Somebody To Love

He nodded.

I laughed again, feeling refreshed by his honesty.

He visibly relaxed too. “Like I said, I was young. Now I prefer that my dates be not only beautiful, but also women of substance. It seems like the dating service finally got it right. They paired me with you.”

I was flattered. He was a smooth one. “So you think I’m beautiful?”

“Without question.”

“And you think I’m a ‘woman of substance’?”

“Clearly.”

“What if I told you that my previous boyfriends were in the entertainment industry?”

He looked amused. “Entertainment industry? Like music performers? Don’t all women have a thing for guys in a band?”

It was my turn to smile. “More like I had a thing for guys in the circus. Clowns, magicians, carnies...”

He let out a bark of laughter. “You’re kidding me?”

“I wish,” I said with a sigh, as I rested my chin on my palm. “I date all the wrong guys. Believe it or not, this whole dating package was a gift from my niece because she knows how much of a disaster I am when it comes to guys.”

“How old is your niece?”

“I don’t even know. Does that make me a horrible person?” He shook his head, but I saw amusement in his eyes. “How old are kids in middle school? At least I think she’s in middle school. She could be in her last year of grade school.” My ignorance when it came to children was rearing its ugly head again.

He chuckled. “So a child roughly between the ages of eleven to thirteen was critical of your ability to choose your own date?”

“Yep.”

“At least you have family that cares. You guys sound close, especially since I’m assuming your sister or brother paid for it and not your niece?”

“You would be surprised. She’s very enterprising.”

“She must have sold a ton of lemonade.”

“We’re firm believers in child labor in my family.”

He laughed again and I joined him. It was nice to have someone laugh at my jokes. All the clowns I’d dated in the past had kind of been humorless, which was ironic to me.

“You have a great laugh.”

“So do you,” I said as we stared at each other.

A waiter came then and dropped off a bottle of wine at our table. We hadn’t even ordered it. Which meant he’d planned this in advance. Nice. I never dated a man that was so well-prepared.

He poured a glass for me and said, “You’re beautiful. You’re funny. And you’re unique. Why are you unattached? Why aren’t you happily married with two-point-five children now?”

I thought about his question as I took a sip of wine. Why wasn’t I married? To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I actually ever wanted to get married. My parents’ marriage had been a joke. My brother’s marriages had fallen apart before they had even started. Did I want to get married? Did I want a husband? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just knew I didn’t want to get to the age 70 and only have five cats for companionship.

I didn’t think Jean-Bernard wanted to hear that. I felt that confession would kind of be a mood killer.

So I made something up. “I don’t know. I guess I never found the right one. Unlucky, I guess.”

He was silent for a second and then said, “Well, maybe your luck is changing.” His tone and his words held so much promise. Jean-Bernard was definitely smooth. I would have to be careful with him. He was the type of guy a woman fell for and mourned for years if he got away. A woman slayer, I thought with a wry smile.

He raised his glass to mine and said, “How about a toast?”