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Maybe I should buy another cat and accept my fate.
Friday evening arrives, and I decide I'm going to have a good time if it kills me.
Although considering how my dating life has been going, perhaps that's not the best choice of words.
I stand in front of my bedroom mirror wearing a black dress that hugs my curves without requiring industrial-strength shapewear. I've done my hair, applied makeup, and even shaved my legs. If that doesn't demonstrate optimism, I don't know what does.
Darcy watches from the bed while Poe sits on my dresser, looking like a tiny furry undertaker.
"What do you think?" I ask them. "Too much? Not enough? Do I look like a woman who's desperate to prove she can date somebody who isn't a married mobster?"
Darcy yawns.
"Thanks. Your support means everything."
Daniel is nice. He's funny, handsome, and seems genuinely interested in getting to know me. He doesn't live in a penthouse, work for a man with a horse ranch, or belong to a criminal empire. As far as I know, he drives himself to work and pays his taxes like a normal person.
That's exactly what I need.
So why am I standing here wishing I were getting ready for another date with Enzo?
My phone buzzes on the dresser. My heart leaps before I can stop it, and for one pathetic second, I hope it's him.
It's not.
Looking forward to tonight. I'll see you at seven. Daniel.
I type back.
Looking forward to it too. Fair warning, I haven't been on a normal date in a while.
His response comes almost immediately.
Then I'll do my best to make it a good one.
I smile at the screen. That's nice. Normal. No mysterious Italian pet names or men announcing they intend to claim me for the rest of my natural life.
I can handle normal.
A knock sounds at my apartment door.
I glance at the clock.
Six forty-five.
"Well, somebody's early." I planned to meet Daniel, but I guess he decided I needed a police escort.
I grab my purse and give myself one last look in the mirror. "Okay, boys. Wish me luck. Mommy's going to try dating a man who doesn't have an entire police department investigating his family."
Murder Mittens flicks his tail.
"Love you too, asshole."
I walk toward the door, smiling despite my nerves, but the smile disappears when I look through the peephole.
The man outside isn't Daniel.
He's broad-shouldered, with short dark hair and a black jacket. Something about him seems vaguely familiar, although I can't place where I've seen him.