Chapter Seventeen #2
“I like reality dating shows, even though I know they’re not that real,” she says with a small laugh. “What kinds of movies do you like to watch?”
“Holocaust ones,” he says, and I facepalm. Who does that? Who even says the word Holocaust on a first date?
“So . . .” Netanya is clearly struggling with her next words, “you watch Holocaust movies with your mother three to four times a week?”
“Yes.”
OMFG. I lift my hand and drop it. If that doesn’t make a woman want to go home with you, nothing will.
“Wow. I had no idea there were that many of them,” she responds, sounding bleak.
“We rewatch our favorites, of course,” he says, in case Netanya held any lingering doubts that he was normal. So, that’s great.
“Of course,” she says, after a beat.
“It’s important to make time for your mother as an adult.”
“Right.” A long moment passes. “I talk to my mom once a week.”
“That’s it? I FaceTime mine every morning,” Caleb remarks. “She helps me pick out my outfits.”
Right, that’s it. The only way this man will ever get married is if he meets his bride for the first time under the wedding canopy. Clearly, there are a lot more issues here than simply learning how to take turns talking.
Unless he’s intentionally sabotaging this date. But why would he? I drum my fingers on the table and bite my lip. Could it be because of me? Because of that time we almost, maybe, might have kissed? He was very specific that he wanted someone who was the opposite of me physically.
It’s all so confusing.
“Oh, thank G-d, the wine is here.”
Good luck with that, sister. I doubt there’s enough wine in the world to improve this date.
Wait— I tilt my head. What was that about reptiles? I wish I was sitting in the other chair so I could at least see Caleb’s face. Maybe he thinks he’s being funny?
The waiter approaches with their food and I use the distraction to switch seats. This is much better. Now I can see their profiles at least.
“You want to know how I am with reptiles?” she says, then gulps down her wine.
“Specifically, snakes,” he says, and I cough as my water goes down the wrong way. Caleb glances at me for a moment, and then turns back and glances again. I pretend there’s something on the floor that I need, and duck my head under the table while simultaneously trying to stop coughing.
“What an interesting question,” Netanya says, refilling her wine glass. “I’m not much a fan. Why do you ask?”
“I’m thinking of getting a cobra. And naming it Bubbles.”
My head hits the side of the table as I resurface and I moan in pain. Caleb lifts an eyebrow at me and I frown in return. Does he— does he know it’s me? How could he possibly have recognized me in this genius disguise?
“As in . . . a real one?”
Caleb nods. “King cobra are eighteen feet. Can you imagine?”
“No,” she says, pouring herself a third glass. “I really can’t.”
“I found a company in Florida who will bring him straight to my door.”
This isn’t true, it can’t be. Caleb likes animals, but an eighteen-foot cobra isn’t a real animal. If it doesn’t have fur, then it should be in its own category of species called scary as hell.
“What do you think of our matchmaker?” Caleb says suddenly, swirling his wine glass.
Yup, he knows it’s me. Not only does he know it’s me, but he’s going to show me that he knows it’s me. I lean back and cross my arms. This should be fun.
“Ashira?” she repeats, slightly surprised. “Oh, I love her. Why?” she asks when he doesn’t respond. “Don’t you?”
“She’s okay,” he says after a pause. A very lengthy pause. “But do you ever wonder if she has control issues?”
I give a mental shrug. That’s fine. He can have his fun. I’ll wait it out until he gets tired of playing.
“Control issues?” Netanya purses her rosy lips. “I don’t know about that.”
“I bet she wishes she could be on our date right now, for example,” Caleb says, “and feeding us lines.”
It’d be going a lot better if I did. That much is for sure.
Netanya shakes her head and laughs. “She’s only ever been great with me.”
I smile. Hah! Thank you, Netanya.
“But I guess she can be a bit pushy,” she adds. My mouth drops open. What is she talking about? I’m not pushy!
Caleb nods. “It’s impossible to say no to her.”
Is it my fault that I happen to know better than everyone else? And plenty of people say no to me all the time! Most of the time, in fact. That’s how I ended up in this position in the first place.
“But she means well,” Netanya says, taking a bite of food.
Gee, thanks.
“It’s kind of you to give her the benefit of the doubt,” he says. “I’m not sure I would.”
Okay, that’s it. I take out my phone and start to type him a text.
I AM NOT CONTROLLING!!!! OR PUSHY!!! And what were you thinking, talking about Holocaust movies with your mom and 18 ft pet cobras??!!! Are you INSANE?
“Sorry,” he says to Netanya, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “I have to make sure this isn’t a work emergency.”
I watch the corners of his lips twitch as he reads my message.
“Everything okay?” Netanya asks.
“Yeah, sorry,” he says, glancing up at her. “It’s just a text from the crazy lady who sometimes stalks me.”
I hang my head. Great, Caleb. Just . . . great.
“You have a stalker?”
He finishes swallowing before replying, “Yes, but she’s mostly harmless. I’d block her number, but I don’t want her to lash out.”
“What does the ‘mostly’ part mean?”
“I found her in my bedroom a few weeks ago.”
It was his office, I nearly shout.
Netanya gasps, and I’ve decided I’ve had enough. I throw my napkin on the table and stand up, then jerk my head to signal for him to follow me.
It’s time for this “controlling” matchmaker to inform the hottest bachelor of Brooklyn that he is a complete and utter dating disaster.