I’d been talking to Lily for about a week before she suggested we go out.
She was stunning—long auburn hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that made her Instagram pictures look like something out of a magazine.
I was surprised she was interested in me, but hey, sometimes luck strikes in unexpected ways.
She picked the place. A high-end steakhouse downtown. The kind of place where the valet expects a hefty tip and the menu doesn’t show prices because, well, if you have to ask, you probably can’t afford it.
But I wanted to make a good impression, so I agreed.
From the moment we sat down, though, something felt off.
Lily barely looked at me.
Her eyes were glued to her phone, fingers dancing over the screen as she texted someone.
Every few minutes, it would buzz, and she’d either reply immediately or pick up the call without so much as an apology.
The waitress, a woman in her late twenties with a kind smile and warm brown eyes, approached our table. Her name tag read Emily.
“Can I get you started with something to drink?” she asked, looking between us.
“I’ll have a whiskey neat,” I said, trying to act like this was totally normal.
Lily, still staring at her phone, waved a dismissive hand. “Mmm.
Whatever house cocktail you have that’s sweet. Oh, and bring me the crab-stuffed mushrooms. And the steak.
Medium rare. Do you guys still do the truffle butter?”
Emily’s smile didn’t falter. “Yes, we do.”
“Perfect.” Lily barely looked up as she handed over the menu.
I kept waiting for her to put the phone down, to engage in conversation.
Nothing.
“So,” I said after a long, awkward silence, “you mentioned you like hiking?”
She hummed noncommittally, still texting.
I exhaled, pushing down my frustration. The food came out, and while I tried to enjoy my meal, Lily barely touched hers between glancing at her phone and responding to messages.
Emily came by again, refilling my water. She gave me a subtle look, raising an eyebrow as if to say, You okay?
I just nodded and forced a smile.
Then Lily’s phone rang again.
This time, she laughed loudly. “Ugh, one sec,” she said, standing up. She walked to the entrance of the restaurant, still talking, leaving me alone at the table.
Emily returned a minute later.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “Just checking—are you okay?”
I chuckled dryly. “Not really.
This is a disaster.”
She tilted her head. “Want me to help you get out of here?”
I blinked. “What?”
She smirked.
“I’ve seen this before. The type who uses dates for expensive meals and never plans to call again. If you want, I can, you know… work some magic.”
I was half amused, half embarrassed.
“And what exactly does ‘work some magic’ mean?”
She leaned in conspiratorially. “Give me five minutes.”
Before I could say anything, she walked away.
Two minutes later, Lily returned, sighing dramatically. “Ugh, sorry, work stuff.
So annoying.”
I just nodded, wondering what Emily was up to.
Then the check arrived.
Lily barely glanced at it before saying, “Thanks, you got this, right?”
That’s when Emily reappeared, looking concerned. “Sir,” she said, holding out the bill, “your card was declined.”
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