“Imagine,” she continued, “a nice candlelit dinner that tastes almost as good as the conversation. They have so much in common, and the dopamine starts kicking in. The man hasn’t had sex in two years, and she gives him that seductive smile and a stroke of her hand… The night ends with the perfect kiss that’s filled with passion, and the dam br—”
“We get the picture,” I said through tightened lips. “We don’t need you to paint it.”
Crystal looked over at Isabella. “Sounds to me like someone is jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Was I, though? What if the date did go perfectly? Would she be okay with us still dancing together? I really did want to learn that dance.
“Have you secured your apartment yet?” Isabella asked.
Her words broke me from a daze. “What?”
“Your apartment. Paris. Two weeks.”
Crap. I did need to take care of that.
“Um, no, but I’ll get on it tomorrow.”
“So, I have some news,” Becky said. “I put up a profile on that same dating site Justin is on.”
I was thankful for the change of topic. “Really, when?”
“Yesterday.” She shrugged. “I think it’s time I stop hoping something will happen with Eli and see what else is out there.”
“Good for you.” Crystal held up her drink in salute.
“Can you access Justin’s profile from there?” Isabella asked. “I want to see it.”
“What’s his profile name?” Becky asked.
“Rickscafe1942.” In homage toCasablanca. I finished off the rest of my wine. “But you won’t find it. He set it to private, so only his matches have access to it.”
She typed on her phone. “Um, no. It’s definitely public… And the title he used… is that supposed to be some kind of sexual innuendo? Because it isn’t very subtle.”
“What title?” I asked.
“His subject. It’s the first thing people see when they scan profiles.”
“What’s his line?”
“Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. I don’t know what kind of ride he’s referring to, but with that side smile, there’s only one I can think of.”
Oh no. He didn’t include the first part of the quote.
Becky squinted her eyes and examined it closer, then let out a giggle. “Wow… Did you take his profile picture?”
“Yes, why?”
“And did you, um, intend to include a porno DVD in it?”
“What!?”
“Let me see that.” Isabella didn’t wait before slipping it from Becky’s fingers.
I fumbled for my phone and enlarged the photo. Sitting there on the dining room table with the spine facing the camera was a title that clearly read,Saving Ryan’s Privates.
Oh no.
