Authors: Joanne Schwehm

The Critic (36 page)

BOOK: The Critic

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“That’s where you’re wrong, Aubrey. We can totally do this. As a matter of fact, I’m working at a Speed Dating event tomorrow night at a hot club called The White Orchid. Walker-Stone is in charge of its marketing and advertising. It’s a sold-out event, but I can get you a ticket. I’ll be there with my boss, Brian, to make sure everything goes as planned, so you’ll have a wing man, well, wing woman.”

Julie laughed; apparently, she found humor in my despair. I suddenly felt as if we were no longer Sandy and Frenchy, but now Maverick and Goose from the movie
Top Gun.

“What the hell is speed dating and why doesn’t that
sound
romantic?”
Top Gun
flashed in my head again. “I feel the need, the need for speed.” I almost laughed out loud. What was next? Going to a bar and singing “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”?

Julie rolled her eyes. “It isn’t romantic. Well, I guess it could be if there were such a thing as love at first sight, but the goal is to meet a guy, right? Not necessarily fall in love. You just want someone to make your panties a little damp.”

Julie enjoyed this banter a little too much. She was so comfortable with guys and sex. She wasn’t a slut by any means; she just knew how to have safe fun and not get heartbroken.

“Look, I don’t need my panties damp. Knowing me, I’ll have an anxiety attack and probably pee a little; that’ll make them damp.”

We both laughed. Although, I inwardly cringed; it really wasn’t that farfetched. I was known for my anxiety attacks. They started in middle school when I was picked on for not having the right brand of clothing or something like that. I ended up at the nurse’s office, and that was where I met Julie. She didn’t feel well that day. Well, that’s what she told the nurse. She really didn’t want to go to Algebra. She confided in me that day, and we’d been inseparable ever since. Julie was one of the cool girls, so my being picked on was instantly over. Back then, I was so thankful for Julie, as I am now.

“How does it work anyway?” I felt my anxiety building already.

Julie adjusted herself as if she were going to give me a marketing presentation. Her posture was perfect; she flipped her hair over her shoulders and flashed her perfectly white teeth. “There will be tables lined up, and each of the ladies picks one and sits down. Every six minutes or whenever the bell rings, a new guy will sit at the table. Both the men and women will have rating cards where they can make notes on whomever they meet. At the end of the night, Brian and I will collect the cards to see if there are any matches and take it from there. Voila! You could have your muse!”

I was shaking my head in disbelief, and my head was spinning. I felt as if I just drank a pitcher of margaritas. “So I’m going to be rated by men I’ve only spoken to for six minutes? And you expect me to find a match? What the hell do I say in six minutes that gets me a high rating? ‘Hi, you’re hot. Want to have sex?’ Will that do it?”

“Oh, Aubrey, you’re so dramatic! Listen, you’ll never know if you don’t try. What do you have to lose? If all else fails, we’ll call it conversational practice. It’s a win-win!”

“Yeah, win-win or lose!” I covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t believe I was considering doing this.

Julie pulled my hands down and looked at me. “What do you have to lose? If you don’t meet Mr. Romance Hero, you don’t lose anything. But you could meet someone. You won’t know if you don’t give it a shot. Just have faith.”

Julie was right; I had to admit at least that much. If I really thought about it, the idea wasn’t that bad, and I really didn’t have many other options. I was just trying to think of what to say that would be so amazing in six minutes. Worse yet, what would a guy say? And what were these guys like? They were probably creepy losers, and this was the only way for them to talk to women. Or worse yet, they were players looking for their next piece of ass, like Garrett. Either way, I couldn’t believe I was going to do this. Did that make me a loser too?
Oh hell, who cares? I need to do this.
“Okay, I’m in. What do we need to do first?”

“First, we call the spa and make appointments for tomorrow, and then we shop and figure out what questions you’re going to ask in your six-minute time frame.” Julie was so excited; it was as if she were the one who would be speed dating; she definitely had faith.

“How come you never told me about this event or club?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, it never dawned on me. I never thought you would do this or even want to.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice. I really need this for my research, or I wouldn’t be going.”

“Yeah, about that . . . What happens if you do meet a great guy? You know that’s a possibility.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “I honestly don’t think anyone who would attend an event like this would be my type—no offense. And what do you mean by ‘what would I do?’”

“I mean if you meet some delectable, stunningly handsome, want-to-make-you-strip-naked creature of a man and you end up dating him, will you tell him about the book, about him being your muse, or will you keep it to yourself?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I never thought about it. Anyway, I highly doubt I’ll meet someone who’ll make me melt and be gaga over. Do you know what kind of guys signed up?”

“We ran limited background checks on the guys. They have to be gainfully employed, between the ages of twenty-five and forty, single, and not on any sex-offender registries.”

My eyes went wide. “I guess those last two would be quite important!”

We both laughed. We called the spa to make appointments for nails, hair, and makeup for the next afternoon, and then we were off to find some nice little boutiques off the beaten path.

I had money, but I didn’t want a cookie-cutter outfit. I didn’t want to look as if I tried too hard, but I definitely didn’t want to look like a mall rat. I purchased a black pencil skirt that came just above my knees and a tasteful blue, sleeveless top that had a scoop neck and just grazed the top of my cleavage. I didn’t have much in the breast department, but the padded black lace bra Julie picked out for me helped fill me out nicely. She also made me buy a matching black lace thong and confirmed that I was okay in the waxing department. She wanted me to wear a garter belt and silk stockings. I just laughed and told her that I was all set. We finished our day with some good food and wine.

That got me thinking.
I’m probably going to need wine to get me through tomorrow night. I should stop and pick up a bottle—no, a case!