You’ll have to find me, because I have no idea what you look like.”
“And that doesn’t make you nervous?”
“Nope. Excited.”
“You’re very brave.”
“Only sometimes. Tell me, what really made you pick my card?”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, and then it all came out in a rush. “I liked what you had to say. What you’re looking for. But I really have to go now, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I look forward to it.”
“Aside from being scared out of my wits, me, too,” she said. Then she was gone.
Who was this woman? He could tell she was shy, which was appealingly uncommon for the girls he dated. He’d never actually been on a blind date, which this essentially was. Not once. He’d only lied a little bit when he told her his expectations. Especially given her last, rushed explanation for choosing him, he fully expected to end the evening back at her place. Hell, even if they didn’t particularly click, it was only for one night. Whoever had thought up the trading-card idea deserved a Nobel Prize. Prevetted men with all their cards on the table, pun most definitely intended. Natalie would be the first of many, he assumed, a veritable feast of women who also wanted no-strings-attached one-night stands.
He settled back in the taxi, feeling a hell of a lot better than when he’d left his loft.
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”
Fred gave Natalie a long, slow assessment from the ground up. “You can do better.”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at herself in her full-length mirror. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just prefer your red dress.”
“Why?” She knew it sounded as if she didn’t trust him. He was never anything less than completely honest with her, even when a white lie wouldn’t have hurt anyone.
“It makes your boobs look bigger.”
Turning all the way to face him, she gave him her WTF stare. “This date isn’t about my boobs. We’re getting to know each other. That’s all.”
“It’s always about boobs. Look, if you want better advice, I suggest you find someone who cares more about fashion. I have work to do. Aside from the boob issue, you look gorgeous. Like always. But if you want to make him swoon, go with the red dress and your black heels. And don’t forget to put on the lip gloss, not just the lipstick.” He shook his head. “We’ve been living in the same house too long. Why do I even know what lip gloss does for you? Where’s Denise? I thought she was going to bring wine and you two were going to giggle and speculate until it was time for your date.”
“She’s at her cousin’s bridal shower. In California. On vacation. And we don’t giggle.”
“I was being polite. Your friend sounds like an asthmatic horse when she laughs.”
“She does not.”
He sighed. “She doesn’t in the same way that it’s not about boobs.” He stopped at Natalie’s bedroom door. “Now have fun. If nothing else, at least you don’t have to go to Oliver’s mother’s Shabbat dinner.”
“She makes a great brisket.”
He nodded. “That she does. But not good enough for you to stay with that schlub.”
“Get out,” she said, although she completely agreed with him. “I’m going to change into my red dress.”
Fred, with his skinny black jeans, two-tone shoes and argyle sweater, walked down the hall. She didn’t know anyone more fashion conscious than him. Damn hipster. If she didn’t love him like a brother, he’d be impossible to put up with. The sound of the fridge door slamming told her the rat had stolen one of her expensive pale ales. He’d pay for that.
She pulled out her red dress even though she wanted badly to believe tonight’s date wasn’t about breasts. Yes, she wanted Max to think she was attractive and for the two of them to connect, but she didn’t do casual hookups and she didn’t like it when men assumed it was a done deal after a woman had spoken more than five words to them.
Pausing at her purse, she took out Max’s trading card again. A man who played online role-playing games like World of Warcraft had to understand the value of patience.
* * *
THE BOWERY WAS close enough to Max’s loft in NoHo to walk there easily. The clear, crisp May night invigorated him. As did the prospect of dinner and what might follow.
Not knowing Natalie’s last name had removed the temptation of looking her up on Google. He liked that. There were far too few real surprises left in life. It was the age of spoilers—everything from movies to novels to credit scores were searchable. He liked to receive first impressions in person whenever possible. With a clean slate. Just hearing her voice had been enough to conjure images that were bound to be way off.
Lviv was down a flight of stairs. On the patio was a small grouping of outdoor tables, all occupied. It wasn’t a jeans-and-T-shirts crowd, even though the weather was great, but not suits, either. Inside at the small bar, there was a big age range and a relaxed atmosphere. He assumed she’d chosen a place that was both familiar and comfortable, because she sure hadn’t chosen it for a high-ticket meal.
He’d timed his entrance perfectly, but when a couple of minutes ticked by and no one approached, he turned back to the patio.
As he moved aside for a departing couple, he realized a lot of the people behind him at the bar weren’t speaking English. It sounded Russian, but was probably, in this part of town, Ukrainian, which he understood was close.
The voices receded as his gaze caught on a great pair of legs coming down the stairs. The heels were black and high, almost stilettos, and one step later he got a glimpse of a red dress swinging against shapely knees. He waited in anticipation as the rest of her came into his line of sight.
She was curvier than a lot of women he knew, and he liked that. He didn’t mind a thin body in his arms, although he preferred a softer experience. The red dress was tight around the middle, and the neckline showed off what appeared to be a hell of a nice rack. Dark hair bounced on her shoulders, soft curls that moved with her, and he only got a side view, but so far, he really hoped it was Natalie.
Dammit, now he’d done it. She’d probably walk into another man’s arms and Natalie herself would disappoint him. Aw, hell. What was he thinking? There were a lot of beautiful women in the world, in this city, on this block. All different kinds. For all he knew, she could already be here, scoping him out.
Turning back to the bar, he didn’t notice anyone craning to see the door. Behind him, a soft throat clearing made him smile.
It was the woman in red, and head-on she was...attractive. Not as stunning as some, but he wouldn’t mind looking at her during dinner or across a mattress. “Natalie, I hope?”
She nodded. Held out her hand.
He shook it, glad
