Olsen chuckles, then leans down to whisper in my ear. “I like it when you beg.”
I slap his chest again, though I can’t help but notice warmth rising to my cheeks and flooding my abdomen. “Come on.”
“Tell him you’d like your suit pressed, extra starch.”
I relay the code and the guy reaches beneath the till to press a button. Just like magic, one of the sets of stacked washers pops open to reveal a hidden doorway. Olsen offers his arm for me to grab and I lead him through. After a short, dark hall the room opens to a glamorous speakeasy with a gilded bar, shiny cushioned leather seats, and swanky jazz music emanating from a jukebox in the corner. A low-lit bar runs along the whole right side with the most hipster bartenders I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
We take our seats and flip through the menu, designed to look like an old, worn-out travel guide to the Bahamas. I order something similar to an espresso martini and Olsen chooses what would translate to an old-fashioned, plus a fancy, overpriced charcuterie.
“This place is so cool!” I can’t stop looking around; there are so many quirky little details.
“I thought you’d like it.” Olsen is angled toward me, his long legs jutting out from his seat and pressing against mine.
My first instinct is to pull away and give him space, but then I remember that this is a date, we’re supposed to be touching, and this is the whole reason we’re here. I force myself to look at him, at his pretty eyes and his perfectly combed hair, and his nice clothes and his expensive watch and... and I can’t thinkof a single thing to say to him. I open my mouth and close it a few times before giving up and taking a long sip of my martini.
I wonder what Lex is doing right now. She’d love this place. I bet she’d know all sorts of fun facts about speakeasies, too. What would she wear to a place like this? Maybe dark trousers, a white linen shirt, suspenders... she’d lookamazingin suspenders. I bet she could pull off a fedora, too.
“What are you thinking about?” Olsen asks, jarring me back to the present.
“Just... um. How much I’m enjoying this?” I wince at the accidental upward inflection. “Thank you for taking me out. This is a nice surprise.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Olsen reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles. I resist the urge to pull away. Despite our evening having all the makings of a perfect date, paving the way for tension and heat and flirtatious banter, I can’t help but feel... nothing. I can’t think of a single thing to say, or to do, and we came all this way and this place is so nice and this is so... awkward.
It’sawkward.
I blink a few times as understanding sets in, Lex’s words coming back to my mind. I’m supposed to be chasing the feelings of awkwardness, not running away from them. I’ve been avoiding Olsen because I’ve been worried about something terrible happening—food stuck in my teeth, tripping and falling on my face, an ill-timed fart—but this type of awkwardness is a whole other level.
Somehow the curse has managed to sneak past my defences and ruin my date in a whole new way, by stilting our conversation and convincing me there’s no spark between us, sabotaging the best date I’ve ever gone on, with the nicest, most attractive guy I’ve ever met. It’s making me feel—ornotfeel—the way I’d expect, and ruining it all the same. The curse knows howclose I’m getting and it’s rearing its ugly head, trying to make me think everything’s wrong when it couldn’t be more right.
I tilt my head and look at Olsen again,reallylook at him, and try to remember how I felt when I first met him all those weeks ago in that pub. His chiselled jaw, his thick hair, his kind eyes, the confidence that radiates from him, his easygoing nature. The Perfect Guy. I’ll be damned if I let the curse get in the way of my happily ever after.
I toss my hair over my shoulder and reach for Olsen’s hands, giving them a squeeze. He has nice hands. Big, strong hands. They’d feel so good on my body. In fact, I’m determined to make sure that they do.
“I’m really glad I’m here with you,” I say to Olsen, with every ounce of sincerity I can muster, convincing myself just as much as him.
My words affect him more than I thought they would, and he smiles bashfully. “Me, too.”
“Thank you for giving me,us, a second chance.”
Olsen regards me for a long moment. “You know, when Lex started hanging out with you, I thought she was crazy. I didn’t want to say anything, though. She’s been through a lot, and she needed a friend. I never would have thought you two would have got so close, though. She talks about you all the time.”
My heart glows. “Really?”
He nods. “Oh, yeah. She never shuts up about you.”
I bite my lip. “What sort of things does she say?”
“She talks about how you take in old dogs no one else wants to make sure they get all the love and care they need in their golden years. How passionate you are about your job, about making the world a better place for kids like Gabe. How you’ve been so kind and patient with him, and how much he loves you.”
“He loves me?”
Olsen nods. “Gabe isn’t much of a chatter, but he brings you and your dog up all the time. I think he likes you more than he likes me.”
I don’t think there’s a better compliment in the world than that. “Well, he’s an amazing kid.”
“And you’re an amazing woman.” Olsen cups my face in his hands and tilts my chin up, looking at me like he’s won the lottery. “Then I saw you at Cultus Lake, and it all clicked.”
I roll my eyes. “Because my top came off.”