Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I giggle. “This is true.”
“You don’t have to sleep with him, just meet him. Talk and see if you feel any chemistry. If not, text me, and I’ll call you with an emergency exit plan.”
“Yes.” My eyes widen. “That’s a great idea. Emergency exit plan.” I frown as I go over the concept in my head. “Wait, do you have an emergency exit plan?”
“No, I just tell them I’m not feeling it and I go home. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t owe them anything.”
Nat is the most honest person I know. “God, I would hate to date you.”
“Me, too. Now, wear something sexy and have a few glasses of wine before you go to loosen yourself up.”
“What if I get too drunk and wake up in his bed with him and his flat mate?”
“Then I’m coming over to high five you. About fucking time you let it all hang out.”
I burst out laughing. “Will you be serious?”
“I am.”
I begin to pace back and forth. My nerves are dancing just thinking about going on this date. “Okay, have your phone on you for my emergency exit plan.”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t like him, I’m just texting you.”
“Yes.”
“What else do I need to do?”
“Have you got condoms?”
I frown. “No. Should I?”
“Yes, you can’t trust men’s condoms. What if they’ve put a hole in it?”
“Why would they do that?” I ask, horrified.
“I don’t know. In case he’s purposely trying to spread his sexually transmitted diseases or some shit.”
“People do that?” I shriek.
“I’m not finding out. Get your own condoms to be safe.”
I put my hand over my eyes. “Honestly, Nat, I can’t do this.”
“Just shut up and stop acting all innocent. You’ve done it before.”
Him.
I feel anger bubble at the mere mention of Rico’s existence, and I roll my eyes. “He was different.”
“He was a complete asshole, that’s what he was. What are you going to do? Sit over there in Italy and twiddle your thumbs?”
I get a vision of myself still doing the same pathetic things when I’m seventy. “Yes, you’re right.” I inhale deeply as I try to pump myself up. “Okay, I’m doing this.”
“Good, get to the pharmacy.”
The good thing about being brave is… nothing. It completely sucks.
I want to run hard and fast across the water and go back to Australia to escape this Tinder date from Hell.
It’s Saturday night and I’m in the restaurant, but when my date wasn’t here when I arrived, I came into the ladies’ bathroom to hide. I can’t sit at the table and wait like some desperado. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is set in big curls. I’m wearing a black fitted dress with a low back and spaghetti straps. I have my smoky makeup on with my red lipstick. I look good. I know I look good.
Tinder fuck-on-first-date kind of good.
I peer around the door and I see him sitting down at our table. He has dark hair, and he seems okay. He actually looks like his profile picture. He isn’t hideous, at least. That’s something, I suppose.
I exhale heavily and take one last look in the mirror to give myself a pep talk.
“Right, go out there and pretend that you like him. You never know, maybe you will?”
Oh God, this is a disaster already.
I walk out and weave through the tables. He smiles and waves as he sees me. He seems impressed when he stands. “Olly.”
“Hi,” I push out. “You must be Franco?”
“Lovely to meet you.” He kisses my cheek, and I fall nervously into my seat. The waiter arrives. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Please.” Jeez, I need fucking tequila to get me through this. I pick up the drinks menu and glance up, and then I stop dead still. I feel the blood drain from my face.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Chiseled jaw, dark eyes, and curly hair? I would know that face anywhere.
Enrico Ferrara is sitting at a table in the back.
10
Olivia
I quickly put the menu up in front of my face so I can hide behind it.
Shit, are you kidding me?
“How are you?” Franco smiles.
I glance back over to see Enrico deep in conversation with a group of men. He laughs out loud and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Great,” I lie. This is the worst day of my entire freaking life. What the freaking hell is Rico doing in Milan? I frown and pretend to read the menu in great detail, trying to buy some time. “Wow, you have such a great selection of drinks,” I mutter to the waiter as I break into a cold sweat.
Franco and the waiter wait for my order. Oh man, I can’t hold the menu up any longer. This is getting awkward. “I’ll have a shaken margarita, please.” I hand the menu over. I should have been polite and shared a bottle of wine with my date, but too bad. The ante just got upped.