He’s so into this conversation, though. He’s literally setting the china and silverware aside to lean closer. The attention makes me blush.
I’m an introvert. Sue me.
“Wonderful. I’ve dabbled in e-commerce before moving on to my current business,” he tells me, absently relocating the decorative centrepiece to the neighboring table. “If you want a few pointers, I’d be happy to take a look.”
My pulse ticks up a little bit because it seems like this guy and I might actually have a few things in common. “Oh, I’d like that…”
Wow. I think I…feel something. A connection.
Terry tilts his head to the side and gives me an adoring look. “Ah, you’re just perfect, Iris…”
A heated blush takes over my cheeks. I know I should say ‘thank you’ at the compliment but my tongue is a little bit tied up.
“…For our organization,” he finishes, his eyes glittering.
“Huh?” I blink.
Right then our waiter comes up to our table. “Good evening, folks. How are you doing tonight?”
Terry watches the man eagerly. “Do you think you can get me some hot water?”
“Sure, of course.” The man scribbles on his pad. “And are you ready to order?” He juts his chin at the menu in my date’s hand.
“I had a big lunch so just the hot water will be fine.” He folds his menu and passes it back.
It seems to me like Terry is trying to worm his way out of having to pay for dinner. I’m not one of those women who expects a guy to pay her way but at the same time, no one likes a cheap-o. If he’d rather split the bill, he could just be a man about it and say so directly.
With a crinkled brow, the waiter turns to me. “Would you like a few more minutes to decide?”
“Well, I was actually thinking the beet and asparagus—”
“She won’t be ordering right now,” Terry interrupts—rather rudely—basically shooing the server away.
All of a sudden, I’m not so sure I’m feeling the connection anymore.
When he turns back to me, I nail him with a scowl. “What the hell was that?” I just met the guy and he thinks he can speak for me?
“You don’t have to order all that fancy, overpriced French food.” He nods at the menu clenched in my hands as he reaches for his briefcase at the foot of his chair. He sets the briefcase on the table. “It’s all trans-fats, anyway.”
He thumbs in the combination and flips the thing open with a flourish.
And now, I have no idea what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
There are at least a dozen little compartments inside his briefcase. Mini peanut butter bottles sit inside some of the tiny chambers. Then, there are sachets of what appear to be instant coffee and hot chocolate. Crap—that’s instant oatmeal in there!
And pamphlets. So. Many. Pamphlets.
Oh my god. Is this a pyramid scheme thing?!
Terry grabs the bread basket and before I know it, he’s slathering up a slice. “Iris, I’m actually a rep for OrganicBreakfast Prime, an organization dedicated to bringing the world a wide range of premium quality organic breakfast products. We only sell organic. We only sell high quality…And we only charge two hundred ninety-nine dollars for a three month subscription. After the activation fee of forty-nine ninety-nine, of course.” He hands the sampler my way. “You look like a jalapeño-almond butter type of gal. Let me know what you think?”
Crap! It’s a pyramid scheme thing!!
I glance in Jude’s direction.
Terry is still rambling away as he reaches over the water pitcher to set the slathered up bread on my plate. “This is a really good opportunity, Iris. I’m tellin’ you. And after just a few minutes talking to you, I can see you share our values. That’s why I’d love to get you on my team.” He pulls a hot chocolate sachet from the briefcase. “Now, where’s the waiter with our hot water?”
From across the room, Jude is blinking at me in confusion.
“Too spicy? I also have cinnamon-prune but be prepared to spend some time in the little girls’ room after this one. It’s been known to ‘loosen things up’, if you know what I mean.” Terry pulls an order sheet from the inside pocket of his briefcase and he continues his pitch. “Anyway, you can generate an income from our company in several ways…”
This is not happening. Not on my first date since my divorce. This guy is using a dating app to recruit prospects for his multi-level marketing hack.
My chair legs make a grating sound as I push away from the table. I stand on wobbly knees.
Once again, the average man across from me flashes his average smile. “Iris—How would you like to be an OrganicBreakfast Prime representative? How would you like to be your own boss?”
20
Jude
So, Iris Merlini is dating again. And somehow, I’ve decided to make that my business.
I was restless after she left the house with that loser.
Is she going to spend the night with some guy? Is she going to go back to his house? And why the hell am I bothered?
I couldn’t just lie back and watch sports news and act like it was all good. Because…I want her.
There—I admitted it.
I’m attracted to my roommate. Watching her walk out the door on another man’s arm nearly drove me crazy with jealousy.
I don’t know what possessed me but next thing I know, I was calling up the fanciest restaurants in town to see if anyone had a reservation booked for ‘Merlini’. I lucked out when I called Le Sous-Sol.
I brazenly graduated from ‘innocent curiosity’ into ‘straight-up stalkerhood’ when I booked my
