“—and then he walks up and says he’s my date. I’ve been sitting there for forty-five minutes talking to this guy and he never said a word to correct my assumption. It was mortifying.” Avery’s footsteps thudded against the stairs for emphasis as she climbed toward the third floor of City Hall.
Brooke slurped her to-go cup of sweet tea. “What did your actual date say?”
“He was remarkably cool about the whole thing. Really polite. Which is more than I can say for Mr. Fake Date. We’re sitting across the room, trying to get through all that initial blind date awkwardness, which was completely made worse by my gaffe, and the guy is making faces behind Ross’s back. Ross was giving this completely earnest explanation of some architectural history thing, and it was all I could do not to fall over
