Emmie looked uncertain. Meg shrugged.
“Look,” she said. “We’ve never done anything like this before. Why don’t you give it a try acting really ditzy and see what happens? If it’s a total disaster, you can scale it back on future dates. But this guy, this Scott, he liked you because you acted like a total ditz at the bar the other night. You have the perfect opportunity to follow up on that and see what happens.”
“I guess so,” I sighed. I could see her point. I just wasn’t sure how acting outlandishly ridiculous would help anyone.
The doorbell rang at precisely 7 PM .
“At least he’s punctual,” Emmie said with a smile. She uncrossed her legs and stood up from the couch. “Extra points for that.”
“Good luck!” Meg murmured excitedly. Jill nodded eagerly beside her.
I rolled my eyes and got up to answer the door—after all, we were pretending that this was my apartment, not Emmie’s. As I unlocked her four deadbolts and swung the door open, I was greeted with the sight of an even more handsome Scott Jacoby than I had remembered. Despite my best intentions, I could feel my heartbeat pick up.
He was freshly shaven and dressed in a charcoal suit with a tie-less pale blue shirt, with the top two buttons sexily undone. His dark brown hair was tousled—with some effort and lots of pomade, I suspected—and I could smell just a hint of some sort of musky cologne, not too overpowering, but just present enough to reveal that he’d put some effort into all the little touches.
Unfortunately, as I had suspected, this was
just
my kind of guy—which might make things difficult. After all, I was only testing out this stupid theory, right? I wasn’t supposed to actually
like
the guy. I had to remind myself that he actually didn’t like me, either. He liked the gum-snapping, eyelash-batting, lowered-IQ, dancer version of me. Still...
I was suddenly nervous. I wasn’t sure I could convincingly pull off the blonde act.
“You look beautiful,” he said with a smile as I invited him in.
“Thank you,” I said demurely. Then I remembered I was supposed to be speaking in a higher octave in a voice peppered with giggles and
like
s. Fortunately, I had practiced all afternoon. I took a deep breath and threw myself into the act. “You, like, look awesome, too.” I giggled for emphasis. He grinned back, apparently flattered, and for a moment I let myself bask for a moment in the glow of his perfect smile.
Inside the apartment, I could hear Meg saying something softly and Jill giggling. Scott apparently heard it, too.
“Are those your roommates?” he asked hopefully.
“No,” I said, remembering to keep my voice high-pitched. “Just some friends of mine. We were just, like, having a drink. Want to, like, say hello?”
Wow. It was getting easier to throw random
like
s around. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.
“Sure!” Scott enthused before looking at me hopefully. “Are they dancers, too?”
I giggled as if he’d said something funny and tossed my hair over my shoulder with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“No, silly,” I squealed. “I usually just, like, go out with the other dancers after practice, of course.”
“Of course,” Scott said with a nod as if my answer had been the obvious one. We rounded the corner into the living room, and the girls stood to greet us.
“This is Scott Jacoby. He’s an ophthal—” I quickly stopped myself before completing the word that would clearly contain two many syllables for a dumb blonde to process. “He’s, like, an eye doctor. You know? Like Monica’s old boyfriend? Richard? On
Friends
?”
Woo-hoo. Score one blonde “cultural reference” for me.
“This is Emmie. She’s on my totally favorite soap opera,
The Rich and the Damned,
” I said as Scott grinned at her and shook her hand. “This is Meg. You already met them at the bar the other night. And this is Jill. Her husband is a doctor, too.”
“Nice to meet you girls,” Scott
“Look,” she said. “We’ve never done anything like this before. Why don’t you give it a try acting really ditzy and see what happens? If it’s a total disaster, you can scale it back on future dates. But this guy, this Scott, he liked you because you acted like a total ditz at the bar the other night. You have the perfect opportunity to follow up on that and see what happens.”
“I guess so,” I sighed. I could see her point. I just wasn’t sure how acting outlandishly ridiculous would help anyone.
The doorbell rang at precisely 7 PM .
“At least he’s punctual,” Emmie said with a smile. She uncrossed her legs and stood up from the couch. “Extra points for that.”
“Good luck!” Meg murmured excitedly. Jill nodded eagerly beside her.
I rolled my eyes and got up to answer the door—after all, we were pretending that this was my apartment, not Emmie’s. As I unlocked her four deadbolts and swung the door open, I was greeted with the sight of an even more handsome Scott Jacoby than I had remembered. Despite my best intentions, I could feel my heartbeat pick up.
He was freshly shaven and dressed in a charcoal suit with a tie-less pale blue shirt, with the top two buttons sexily undone. His dark brown hair was tousled—with some effort and lots of pomade, I suspected—and I could smell just a hint of some sort of musky cologne, not too overpowering, but just present enough to reveal that he’d put some effort into all the little touches.
Unfortunately, as I had suspected, this was
just
my kind of guy—which might make things difficult. After all, I was only testing out this stupid theory, right? I wasn’t supposed to actually
like
the guy. I had to remind myself that he actually didn’t like me, either. He liked the gum-snapping, eyelash-batting, lowered-IQ, dancer version of me. Still...
I was suddenly nervous. I wasn’t sure I could convincingly pull off the blonde act.
“You look beautiful,” he said with a smile as I invited him in.
“Thank you,” I said demurely. Then I remembered I was supposed to be speaking in a higher octave in a voice peppered with giggles and
like
s. Fortunately, I had practiced all afternoon. I took a deep breath and threw myself into the act. “You, like, look awesome, too.” I giggled for emphasis. He grinned back, apparently flattered, and for a moment I let myself bask for a moment in the glow of his perfect smile.
Inside the apartment, I could hear Meg saying something softly and Jill giggling. Scott apparently heard it, too.
“Are those your roommates?” he asked hopefully.
“No,” I said, remembering to keep my voice high-pitched. “Just some friends of mine. We were just, like, having a drink. Want to, like, say hello?”
Wow. It was getting easier to throw random
like
s around. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.
“Sure!” Scott enthused before looking at me hopefully. “Are they dancers, too?”
I giggled as if he’d said something funny and tossed my hair over my shoulder with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“No, silly,” I squealed. “I usually just, like, go out with the other dancers after practice, of course.”
“Of course,” Scott said with a nod as if my answer had been the obvious one. We rounded the corner into the living room, and the girls stood to greet us.
“This is Scott Jacoby. He’s an ophthal—” I quickly stopped myself before completing the word that would clearly contain two many syllables for a dumb blonde to process. “He’s, like, an eye doctor. You know? Like Monica’s old boyfriend? Richard? On
Friends
?”
Woo-hoo. Score one blonde “cultural reference” for me.
“This is Emmie. She’s on my totally favorite soap opera,
The Rich and the Damned,
” I said as Scott grinned at her and shook her hand. “This is Meg. You already met them at the bar the other night. And this is Jill. Her husband is a doctor, too.”
“Nice to meet you girls,” Scott
Similar Books
