9
Chinese buffets are where you go if you wantdiarrhea.
I know. It's happenedbefore.
Yet, it's hours before I'm supposed to go on another date with Elijah and here I am, the smell of greasy food and mop water permeating the air as I take a seat in a plastic booth at Mr. Chang's Chinese Buffet. There are only a handful of people in here; maybe the score of seventy-two from the Health Department has something to do withthat.
Dani circles the food station several times, stopping in front of each item and tapping her finger against her phone screen. If I had to guess, she's checking the caloric content. Meanwhile, Steph's making a carb mountain of rice and lomein.
With a sigh, I roll the alarmingly bright-orange piece of chicken around on the plate, wondering if maybe I've taken this too far. Earlier today, I contemplated downing a few tablespoons of expired milk of magnesia, and now I've moved on to consuming bacteria-infested Chinese take-out. I'd seriously rather tell the man I'm glued to the toilet than go on a date. But after a week of nasty messages, I'mterrified.
Over text, it's easy to make myself sound halfway seductive—thanks to Google, Throbbin Hood, and a few erotic books I picked up on Kindle Unlimited—but I’ll be lost tonight when the only option I have is word vomit or silence. I can guarantee, the minute that man says something along the lines of:ride my face, I'm going to have diarrhea of themouth.
My phone buzzes on thetable.
Elijah: Wear something sexytonight.
I stare at the text, imagining all the ways this evening could crash and burn, scarring me forlife.
Me: Oh, I'm not so sure. Let me think aboutit.
Elijah: Demi. We shook on abet…
I shove my phone to the side when Steph finally plops down across from me. Rice spills onto the table, and she brushes it onto the floor. “I haven't been able to talk you into this place since it gave you food poisoning lastyear.”
“Yeah…”
Steph nods toward my plate. “I'm proud of you, facing your fears head-on like this. It's a big step foryou.”
“Just trying to overcome my food aversions,” I say with an uneasysmile.
“What's she doing?” Steph motions her fork toward Dani who's still at the buffet. “She's not going to find anything that fits into her Keto diethere.”
Dani finally grabs a pair of tongs and drops a few things on her plate before sashaying over to us. She daintily takes a seat, then swishes her bouncy hair behind her shoulders. “I'm starving. I was held up in litigations allday.”
Steph twirls lo mein around her fork. “Your jobsucks.”
Dani uses her chopsticks to pluck a piece of questionable sushi from her plate. “Your opinion doesn't count because you don't live inreality.”
I've always envied people who could use those things. I just end up flinging food on thefloor.
“Hey.” Steph thumbs at her chest. “I live inreality.”
“You got laid off, and they gave you a more-than-generous severance package,” Dani says. “You haven't worked in nearly a year,Steph.”
“Um, did you forget? I'm writing abook.”
“A smut book.” Dani laughs, and I just keep scooting that piece of orange chicken around, distracted by thoughts ofElijah.
“Smut is fucking important! It saves marriages andshit.”
Dani snorts. “Andshit…”
“You're an uptighttwat.”
“Compliments will get you nowhere, Steph.” Dani snaps at me, and I glance up. “So where is the cartel man taking you for drinkstonight?”
Steph elbows Dani's ribs. “You can't just jump topics likethat.”
