Lucy aimed her phone at Deon’s Patrick Dempsey hair. The young Patrick.  “Throw your head back. Run your hand through your––” “No way.”  “Come on. Unbutton a few buttons.” He’d been working out more, she could tell by the swell in his arms and chest. The nerd was looking good.  “Stop it.” He held his hand up blocking her view. “You’re all gussied up for this eight-minute dating thing. I just wanted to mark…

“So, this is what it’s like being on a date with you.” Dana hesitated—caught herself. “This isn’t a date, is it? Her voice flattened and she took a sip of wine. “Oh, I’m not belittling your gesture, bringing me to this fine establishment. But it isn’t a date because you’re seeing that woman, aren’t you? The one you asked me for advice about.” Alex fidgeted. Idiot.  Asking Dana how to recognize the signs a woman was interested––what had he been thinking? What could be more awkward? This.…

It was after six, and in the last fifteen minutes, I’d checked my watch three times, holding my wrist at lap level so Donald, my latest meet, wouldn’t notice. Nope, too busy texting. On my second glass of wine––we’d hit the early bird special, Donald’s suggestion––at a new fish place on the water, The Fin and Tater. The air surrounding us held the briny scent of fresh tuna and their specialty, fifteen potato dishes, from…