Page 38 of The Accidental Dating Experiment
She breaks eye contact and pokes around in the toolbox some more. When she finds the screw she’s looking for, she brandishes it theatrically. “And to answer your question, yes, I used Date Night when I went out with Ludwig a few weeks ago.”
“Was he as douchey as the name implies?”
“If by douchey you mean did he like to quote famous women like Maya Angelou and Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Marie Curie, and choke up while quoting them, then yes. And if you want to know why he cried, it was because he was, quote, so moved by the accomplishments of women he had to share.”
I cringe. “Like I said, bad boy. But that’s the worst kind of bad boy. Because he thinks he’s a good guy.”
“He was convinced he was an inspiration to women everywhere,” Juliet says as she lines up the screw in the joint of the leg where it meets the table.
My palms are itching to do something. I feel a little useless right now, and I hate it. “Can I help?”
She flashes a smile. “Yes, you can help by listening to my rules.”
Fair enough. I comply.
“Anyway, I’ll use Date Night to find the men I would like to date,” she says, and my eye twitches.
My nose crinkles.
My chest burns.
The dragon is disturbed. But I remind myself she won’t really be dating those guys. She won’t be dating anyone for real this week.
Except me, for all intents and purposes.
Stand down, dragon.
“That makes sense. But I’ve got a rule of my own,” I say, holding my ground. This matters.
“Okay,” she says cautiously.
“No picking for shock value. We want this experiment to work.”
Her glossy lips part in an exaggerated O. “You mean don’t pick a twenty-two-year-old who lives at home, doesn’t vote, and says he only wants a girl who’s not like other girls?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Though, it would be fun to see you try to role-play an apolitical, sexist jerk,” she says, returning to her normal voice. I can spot the compliment in there and I like it. But I won’t make too much of it.
“I know you’re tempted to do that for the pure entertainment value,” I say.
“Soooo tempted,” she says as she turns the screwdriver. “But I’ll behave and select legitimate potential matches only. And then you’ll familiarize yourself with the guys…and choose the date activity?”
That all sounds reasonable, like a well thought out dating experiment. I only have one question. “When do you want to start?”
Shit. Did that sound too eager? Nah. I’m good at playing it cool.
But she takes her time fixing the loose table leg. Just when I’m about to give in and say, Well, when, Juliet, when? she sets down the screwdriver.
“Now?” she asks.
The dragon thumps his chest. Yes. I can absolutely take her out tonight.
That’s a discovery—I can’t wait for this not-date this evening.
To help her of course. That’s it. That’s all.
I sort of believe my own lie.