When Eric demanded to pay for our first date, I thought I’d met a true nobleman. Roses, a sweet gift, appealing conversation — he was examining all the boxes. When he texted me the next day, I predicted a cute follow-up, but my stomach lowered when I read his message.
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My best friend, Mia, meant well when she provided to set me up on a date, but her skills as a matchmaker were totally unproved.
“He’s super nice, Kelly! Total gentleman. You’ll love him,” Mia insisted over the phone while I discovered through my closet.
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“You’ve never set me up before,” I reminded her. “What makes you think you know my type?”
For illustrative purpose only
“Because I know you better than anyone,” she replied joyfully. “Plus, Chris vouches for him too. They’ve been friends for ages.”
That gave me pause. Chris, Mia’s boyfriend, was a pretty good judge of character. If he thought this Eric guy was honorable, maybe there was hope.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Show me a picture at least.”
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A moment later, my phone tinged an incoming message.
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The guy in the photo wasn’t ugly: clean-cut, well-dressed, with a warm smile that attracted his eyes.
“Okay, he’s cute,” I confessed.
“Told you!” Mia informed. “Text him and set it up. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
After a few casual texts, I agreed to encounter Eric for dinner at a new Italian place with a great view of the river. Nothing too interesting, but nice enough for a first date.
I arrived five minutes early and waited near the entrance, like we’d agreed. I was fearfully examining my appearance with my phone camera when I spotted him approaching the restaurant.