Once and for All(46)

“Oh, right.” She fluffed her bangs. “I guess I have Ambrose to thank for that, huh? I finally got my wingman. Or woman. Or whatever.”

“And it only took our entire lives so far,” I told her.

“True. Watch, though: while you specifically aren’t looking for someone great, you’ll find them. I’m out here digging for years and you will just stumble over a gold nugget by accident.”

“Is that what you think is happening tonight?” I asked. “Because Tyler is no gold nugget.”

“I’m just saying there are types,” she replied. “Those of us who are always seeking, like me, and those who get found, like you. That’s why I think, no offense, that Ambrose might win this bet. He’s a seeker, too.”

“Who has to commit to someone,” I reminded her.

“For seven weeks,” she said, flipping her hand. “My point is that to win, all he has to do is be himself with one person. You have to be someone else with many. The math doesn’t work for me.”

“If he’s himself, he won’t last with the same person for seven weeks,” I reminded her. “In his default setting, he’d flirt with a parking meter.”

“This is true.” She opened her bag, taking out a lipstick. “But I just worry about you suddenly plunging into the dating pool. I don’t think I’ve taught you enough.”

I looked at her through the mirror. “Then why have you been encouraging me to do just that for all these months? Are you forgetting that you said I should do this earlier today? What happened to swine before pearls and rolling the dice?”

“It’s not the same thing, though,” she said. “What I was suggesting was just getting back out there and seeing what happens, with the knowledge that it might not be Ethan all over again. This is aiming for that. It’s totally different.”

“But it’s something,” I pointed out. “Which is more than I have been doing.”

She sighed. “Look, you know I’ll support you no matter what. But is it so bad that I do want another big, perfect love for you? I feel like it’s the least the universe can do, after what you lost.”

“I’m only seventeen, Jilly. This is seven weeks. The universe has plenty of time.”

With this, she bit her lip, a rare emotional response, then put out a hand, squeezing my arm. “Well, if you need a lot of dates that will probably not be great, you came to the right person. I have sort of a knack in that department. And I would like to see Ambrose go down, if only for the sport of it.”

“I’ll let you help pick whom he has to date when I win,” I promised her. “I’m thinking maybe a Tyler or Devon type girl. Lots of high fives.”

“Too bad for now that’s what we’re stuck with.” She dropped her lipstick back in her bag. “You know, that waiter’s kind of cute and he’s been super friendly with me. Wonder what he’s up to later?”

“You’re going to ditch the sport coats right here at dinner?”

“Oh, please. I doubt they’d even notice if we didn’t go back to the table.”

I pushed open the door, glancing back into the restaurant. Tyler and Devon were now building structures with the silverware and leftover plates, both of them clearly focused. “We can’t just leave,” I said.

“Spoken like a true person who gets found,” she told me. “Us seekers have no patience for lost causes.”

Maybe this was true. But in the end, she would give them another thirty minutes—during which time we as a group exchanged about six words—before pleading a headache and early morning the next day and getting us out of there. When Tyler asked me for my number, I was surprised to say the least, and almost told him I didn’t see the point. We had zero chemistry and the last thing I wanted was a repeat of this dinner or some variation of it. But Jilly was more right than I’d known: when you’ve only been found, you can’t become a ruthless seeker just like that. So in the end, I gave it to him anyway.




“Seriously? Anagrams?”

I looked around me, wondering if I’d misjudged how loudly Ambrose had asked this question. Nope. Even Phone Lady, at a table a few feet away, had given us her attention, briefly pausing her own high-volume conversation.

“Yes,” I said in almost a whisper, like this would compensate. “Aggressive ones. It was cutthroat.”

“Whoa.” The line inched forward, slowly. Lately, the coffee order had become Ambrose’s job, but with Elinor Lin and her mother back for yet another meeting, it was that much more important, so I’d come along for backup. “So I’m guessing the night did not end with a hot make-out session.”

“No,” I said flatly. “He barely spoke to me the whole dinner, actually. But then he asked for my number, which was weird.”

“Why?”

“Why did he ask for my number?”

“No,” he said, “I know that. You’re a hot girl and he loves word games. What I’m wondering is why you think it was weird.”

I barely had time to process being referred to as “hot,” which was a first, before answering. “Why would he want to see me again if he had no interest in me when I was right in front of him?”