A Girl Like You by vinnie Kinsella (good books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

sexually,” Jack leaned closer and whispered.

“I love to explore,” I whispered back.

“Really? I love it when a woman who looks really buttoned-down is a bit of an animal inside.”

I tried hard to focus on Jack to make a guess at his age. Late forties? Younger than me, for sure, but I still worried he was placing me in the cougar category.

Then Laney was ringing the damn bell to signal it was time for the men to rotate again.

“What’s your last name, Jess? I want to friend you on Facebook.”

“Gabriel.”

“Got it,” he said, writing it on the back of his hand with a pen. “Hey.” He leaned in again. “You have really pretty hair.”

Jack was my last six-minute pre-date. I was done.

“How’d we do?” Laney asked brightly as I was signing out. “So, which single men are you hoping to be matched with? All of them?”

“Um, one of them—Jack,” I said quietly. “Actually, could I also be matched with the bartender?” I attempted a joke.

“Oh, no,” Laney frowned. “He’s not part of our group.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okey-dokey,” Laney said, practically rolling her eyes at me. “Just one man on your list, then. I’ll email you about your matches in a day or so. Until then, happy dating!!!”

“Well, it was a shit show,” I texted Maddy when I got home. “A lot of very sad men out there. I made one of them cry!”

“Come on, Mom, it couldn’t have been that bad!”

“One guy called me a bitch over a parking space.”

“OK, that’s mean…was there anyone you’d want to see again?”

“Yes, there was, this guy named Jack.”

“Did he like you?”

“Well, I don’t know.” I felt a bit smug. “But he wrote my name down on his hand to friend me on Facebook.”

“Does he know how old you are?”

“No, missy, I didn’t tell him my age, and it would have been rude of him to ask, by the way.”

“How old was he?”

“What’s with you and age all of a sudden? I don’t know, fifty? It was really hard to tell. It was a bar; it was dark in there.”

“You must have some idea, Mombo.”

“I don’t want to just pull a number out of the air. Anyway, now we wait 24 hours for an email with our matches.”

“How many matches can you get?”

“As many men as you like,” I said. “But I only liked one.”

I spent the next 24 hours planning a first date with Jack. Dinner up in Ashton, maybe some place with a view of downtown shops and sidewalks. Or a trip to the lake, where he would teach me wind-boarding, and I would somehow manage to look graceful even when I fell flat on my face. But no, that would involve wearing a bathing suit. Maybe a movie and late-night cocktail, ending up with a visit to his cool bachelor apartment. Followed by hours of sex in every position we could think of.

Laney’s email came exactly 22 hours later, when I was at work. I took my cell into the bathroom so I could do a happy dance unnoticed.

Phew. OK, deep breath. I read the email.

Wait. There must be some mistake. All the single men, except angry parking lot guy, had chosen to be matched with me. Every man but Jack. I closed my eyes, opened them, and forced myself to read the email more slowly.

Jack had not chosen me. There would be no real date. Worse still, he hadn’t friend requested me on Facebook, so I had no way to find him ever again.

There must be some mistake. I had to call Laney, and unfortunately, I had to make the call from the bathroom at work.

“Hello, potential lovebird!” she answered cheerfully. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi, Laney? It’s Jessica Gabriel.”

“Jess!” she squealed on the other end of the phone. “How are you, my single lady?”

“Good,” I said, trying not to sound whiney. “I was just calling to ask, well, if there might have been a mistake in the matches…?”

“Mistake? What kind of mistake?” Laney trilled.

“Well, I was wondering, well, if someone was left off my match list by any chance?”

“Hmmm. I don’t see how that could possibly have happened, but let me pull up your profile. One sec.”

I heard her clicking on a keyboard.

“Well, aren’t you the popular single lady! Nearly every one of our single men said they’d like to talk more with you! Lucky girl!”

Nearly every one. Except the one I wanted.

“I was wondering about, um, Jack?”

“Jack? Well, no, I’m sorry, Jack didn’t check the ‘talk more’ box. He checked off ‘no thanks.’”

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, exhaling.

“OK, well—thanks, Laney.” I couldn’t wait to get off the phone.

“Happy dating! Let us know if anything works out with any of our single men!! We like to keep in touch with our lovebirds!”

For the rest of the work day, my headache battled with my heartache over which felt worse.

When I got home, I put my purse down and then slumped at the kitchen table feeling sorry for myself. After a minor pity party, I got up and poured a glass of wine.

Penny was staring at me from the floor. I bent down to scratch behind her ear, and she yawned, then got up and padded off toward the living room.

“Hey, don’t you know you’re supposed to love me regardless of my dating life?” I said to her little rump as she walked away.

Clearly, speed dating was as random as online searches. I’d tried it, so I could check it off my list. Next.

I hadn’t yet pinpointed exactly what I was looking for, and it looked like the universe wasn’t going to send it my way anytime soon. But I was OK, I was good, and that missing part of me was shrinking, filled up with what I already had—a really great life, even without “The One.”

46

“I’ve had it,” Ian announced one Saturday in November as he came downstairs from his room. “I’m going off the grid.”

“You’re what?” I looked up from my book, Excel