“I mean, yeah, but I think most people just like a certain color.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Why do you make me feel like a clown for liking red?” He set his chin on his hand and said, “Who hurt you at Crayola?”
I laughed, but then noticed that the woman at the table behind Connor had her phone pointed at us and was filming.
And I was immediately back to being too stressed to enjoy myself.
Suddenly, I couldn’t relax because I could feel everyone staring at me.
The Carl Incident—my brother Matty’s label for the whole debacle—had left me absolutely paranoid, all the time. Too many instances I’d assumed a smiling stranger on the sidewalk was just being polite, and then later I’d see they’d posted a snarky comment with a sneaky photo they’d snapped.
Football Karen looking ROUGH AF tonight.
So on any given day, anytime someone looked at me for more than a half second, I assumed they were up to no good.
And tonight—tonight I wasn’t paranoid; tonight the entire placewasliterally watching me.
Which now made it impossible to focus on the date itself.
With each bite after that, I worried I was chewing weird. Every time I smiled, I was concerned there was something in my teeth that would be captured with a hidden camera. And when I accidentally set my wineglass on my knife and it tipped over, causing the fancy waiters to rush over and clean it up, I wanted to die of mortification.
To make matters worse, Connor wassonice.
To me, but also to his fans.
When a middle-aged man came over and asked if he could get a picture with Connor, my date was incredibly sweet about it. After asking me if I minded, he excused himself and went over to their table, smiling and chatting while restaurant employees took photos.
Damn, he looks nice in a sweater.
He was wearing a cashmere sweater and the kind of perfectly tailored pants that screamed money, and he was flawless. He could’ve been on a magazine cover with the way he looked right now.
I watched him charm the diners, which, of course, led to more customers approaching him, and suddenly Connor was working the room, being the nicest guy on the planet to everyone in the restaurant.
But instead of this distraction giving me a quiet moment outside of the spotlight, where I was able to let my guard down, it was somehow worse.
Because everyone who wasn’t watchinghimappeared to be looking at—and discussing—his date, who was sitting awkwardly by herself.
I wanted to hide out in the bathroom, but I didn’t have the courage to walk across the room, knowing so many eyes were on me. I wanted to disappear so badly, but that thought served only to remind me that there might still be people waiting outside to snap photos.
God, I couldn’t wait to be home.
“I am so sorry about that,” Connor said when he finally returned to the table, and I could tell he meant it, that he hadn’t intended for it to get so crazy.
“It’s fine,” I said, working up my best smile. “Gotta give the people what they want.”
When we finally left, I could feel every person in the restaurant still watching us, and the second Connor held open the door and we stepped outside, the cameras were back.
Fantastic.
Someone yelled my name and like the clueless nobody that I was, I said, “Yeah?”
The second I said it, I realized it’d been a photographer, but it was second nature to respond to your own name, right?
“How was your dinner?” the guy said.
“Is this the hard launch?” said another guy. “Are Connor and Duffy official now?”