The Trade(14)

Was he lying about that, just like his eyes?

“Yes, and you’re Natalie?”

I twist my hands together under the table and nod as he gives me one more once-over, eyes glossing over my hair, my cheekbones, my breasts. There’s a pinch in his brow and I can’t decipher if it’s a pinch from confusion or disappointment. I’ve never been assessed like this before, as if I’m a piece of meat or a fish being sold over the counter, the buyer making sure it’s the best he can purchase for his family.

After what seems like forever, he shakes his head and sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket and says, “I’m not going to waste my time, or yours for that matter.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs and says, “I don’t find you attractive.” Then he gives me a slant of his closed mouth, as if to say, “What can you do?” Is he kidding me right now?

“You don’t find me attractive?”

He shakes his head. “No. Sorry. Pictures can be deceiving.”

Pictures can be—

How fucking rude.

I don’t even use filters on my pictures for that very reason.

“This coming from the guy who altered his eyes to be blue. Newsflash, pal, they’re a muddled shade of poop brown.” I stand from my chair and whip my jacket over my shoulder, tucking my iPad into my purse and storming up to him. Right before I pass him, I say over my shoulder, “And for your information, those pants are a little short on you. Expecting a flood?”

With that, I walk out the door of the coffee shop, at a loss for words. Doesn’t find me attractive? Then why come on the date?

I flag down a taxi and give him directions to my apartment before calling Monica.

“If you’re calling me to tell me you met up with another guy during the day, I’m going to walk to your apartment tonight and punch you dead on in the ear.”

“The ear?”

“Yeah, the boob is too easy, the eye is obvious, and your ass has way too much cushion. It would be the ear so you’d hear ringing for days.”

“There’s too much bone there, you could really do some harm.”

“Exactly. So do I need to punch you?”

I wince and say, “Can I wear earmuffs?”

“Natalie,” she groans, and I can hear her shift in her chair. Monica works as an interior designer, has the coolest boss ever, and one of the prettiest offices I’ve ever seen. Her workday is relaxed, and I’m grateful I have my best friend at my disposal whenever I need her. “Let me guess, he was a real loser?”

“Didn’t get to find out.”

“Did he stand you up?” she asks, switching from annoyed to angry in seconds.

“Nope. He gave me one of the most thorough once-overs of my life, decided not to take a seat but instead told me he didn’t find me attractive and didn’t want to waste my time.”

“What? But he saw pictures of you. How does someone not find another person attractive if they saw pictures of the person first?”

“He said my pictures were deceiving.”

“Bullshit. I took those and they are unfiltered and beautiful. I captured your essence.”

“Well, apparently he didn’t like my essence.”

“He’s a moron and obviously mentally unstable.”

I love that Monica is trying to make me feel better, and even though I felt like I gave him a good zinger back, I still can’t help but think . . . am I really that unattractive? According to my husband, I wasn’t attractive enough to hold his interest. And he’d promised to love me forever.

“Don’t even think it,” Monica says, reading my mind. “That silence, I know exactly what you’re thinking and it’s not true.”

“But what if I’m, you know . . . not pretty?”

“Why do you make me yell at you? I don’t want to yell at you, but when you say stupid shit like that, you force me to be a bully. Is that what you want, Natalie, for me to be a bully?”

I chuckle and shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “No, I don’t.”

“Then don’t be an idiot. We both know you’re gorgeous, not just on the outside, but on the inside too, and that’s what makes you such a great catch. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I have someone I want to set you up with and before you say no, you have to give him a chance. He’s the son of one of my clients and he’s adorable. Really sweet and loves his mom. I showed him a picture of you, and he’s more than interested. What do you say?”

“I don’t know. A blind date? That seems too scary.”

“Remember what I said? Getting yourself out there.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I say, “Okay.”

Start a new chapter in your life; it will be great. That’s what everyone’s been telling me, but no one warned me how hard it might actually be.





Natalie: Platypus. PLATYPUS.

Natalie: Did you not hear me? PLATYPUS!!

“And that’s how I got into painting vaginas,” Robert, Monica’s “adorable” blind date says.

“Oh . . . that’s . . . interesting, all from porn, huh?”

He nods and sips his wine. “Yup. I find porn star vaginas to be more intricate in detail because they’ve been stretched—”