The knee-length burnt orange wool coat she was examining was stunning, but sadly, the color was over-the-top for Seattle. Most of the outerwear on the city’s streets came in shades of gray, black, navy and forest green. If she were to stroll down Pine Street in a burnt orange coat, she might as well carry a sign that shouted tourist.
The man who had just sat down on the other side of the small round table did not respond to the question. With a sigh, she looked up. It was obvious from his uncertain expression that he thought she was texting.
“I said, if I disappeared tomorrow would you walk into hell to find me?” she said.
“Excuse me?” He looked around and then leaned forward. He lowered his voice. “I think they said that we should turn off our phones.”
“Sorry.” She dropped the phone into her large handbag, wedging it between her turmeric-yellow wallet and the vintage camera. She took a closer look at her new date. The name tag stuck on his shirt identified him as Nathan.
“Hi, Nathan. I’m Olivia,” she said, going for bright and sparkly. “I’ll repeat my question. If I disappeared tomorrow would you walk into hell to find me?”
“Uh.” Nathan got a deer-in-the-headlights look.
She recognized the expression. Nathan was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she was weird. Within the next thirty seconds he would do what the previous dates had done—excuse himself and take off to find the restroom, where he would hide out until the bell rang.
It was not Nathan’s fault she had signed up for the Four Event Success Guaranteed package offered by the speed date agency. So far most of the people she had met had been nice. A bit boring—but nice. The experiment had been a disaster for her, however.
She had purchased the package because it was 20 percent off. The first event had been a washout, but she had told herself to be optimistic. You couldn’t expect immediate success. But now she was midway through the second event and the prospects were looking even more dismal.
“I’m not sure exactly what you mean,” Nathan said.
He did a quick furtive glance around the room. It didn’t take any psychic talent to know he was searching for the restrooms.
She gave him another shiny smile. “The matchmaker said we are supposed to ask each other questions. That’s my question.”
“Oh.” Nathan cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I guess it would, you know, depend.”
At least Nathan was considering his answer, not running for the restroom. That was promising.
“What would it depend on?” she asked.
“How well I knew you. Whether or not you and I were, you know, close.”
“And if we were close?” she pressed. “Then would you walk into hell to find me?”
Panic sparked in Nathan’s eyes. He glanced at the table where the event coordinator sat. When he realized there was no salvation coming from that direction, he made a heroic effort to move forward.
“My turn,” he said, bubbling with artificial enthusiasm. “My question is, where do you like to go on vacation?”
“Hawaii. My turn. If I went missing would you walk into—”
“I guess I’d call your friends first,” Nathan said. He sat back in the booth, putting a little more distance between them. “See if they knew where you were. Then, uh, maybe call the cops. Hey, I like Hawaii, too. Do you snorkel?”
“No.” She leaned forward, closing the space he had just made. “How hard would you look for me?”
“Well, uh, I’m not an expert when it comes to search-and-rescue work. Don’t you need a dog for that?” Nathan shot to his feet. “Excuse me. Gotta hit the restroom. Be right back.”
And another one bites the dust. No, that wasn’t right, Olivia thought. I’m the one who just bit the dust. Again. She realized she didn’t care. The speed date experiment was a failure. If she hadn’t bought the Four Event Success Guaranteed package she would leave right now. But she had made an investment, and the fine print was firm—no refunds.
The event coordinator rang a bell and announced a short break.
Olivia opened her phone again. Definitely not the burnt orange coat, but maybe something similar in gray. No, she hated gray. She had way too much of it in her closet—outerwear, mostly. Underneath her jackets and coats she usually wore the rich, vivid colors she loved, but she was careful to wear them with caution, aware people would think she was from out of town. There was a Pacific Northwest look, after all. Tonight she had opted for a cobalt blue sheath but she had dialed back the impact with a cropped and fitted black jacket, black heels and a black handbag.
She gave up on the shopping, opened the page of the animal shelter and reviewed the photos of cats available for adoption. She had visited the page a number of times in the past few days, studying each new arrival with great care. None had stood out as the Right Cat.
Tonight, however, she was excited to see a new addition to the list, a gray domestic shorthair. The caption said his name was Joe. He was not the handsomest cat on the page. There was nothing particularly striking about him, except for his eyes—they seemed to be looking right at her—but she was drawn to him.
She was studying the details of his life before he arrived at the shelter—there weren’t many—when the woman at the table on the other side of the booth spoke up.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be on our phones,” the woman said in a low voice.
“I’ve got the sound off,” Olivia said.
“Smart. So, any luck with the dates?”
“No,” Olivia said. “You?”
“A couple of possibilities. A lawyer and a guy who says he’s got a hot start-up.”
“Every computer engineer in Seattle says they’ve got a hot start-up.”
“I know. My name is Elly, by the way.”
“I’m Olivia.”
“I’m not interested in a long-term relationship,” Elly said. “I just want to find someone who’s into cross-country skiing and likes to drink wine afterward.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“That’s what I thought when I registered with this agency.”
“At least your dates aren’t all making excuses to head for the restroom.”
“No.” Elly hesitated a beat. “None of my business, but do you want some friendly advice?”
“Sure.”
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversations this evening. I’m a psychologist. I feel I should tell you that you are sabotaging yourself.”