Chapter 8

Amy was still seething and slightly rattled as she approached the man holding the pink rose. As if sensing her approach, he stood up and adjusted his shirt sleeves. When he glanced at her and smiled, it became evident that he was just as nervous as she was.

"Are you Amy?" he inquired, uncertain if she was indeed his match from the dating site.

"Yes," she replied, attempting to muster a smile. However, her emotions were still simmering from her encounter with that Casanova near the restroom, and all she could manage was a faint upturn of her lips. Speaking of the Casanova, she noticed him lingering nearby their table, his eyes fixed on her.

Blast! She should have anticipated that he would be dining here as well. Feeling his intense gaze on her, she shifted her focus back to the man sitting in front of her.

But how did he manage to reach his seat so quickly? Amy's thoughts momentarily drifted back to Justin, but she berated herself to focus on the man before her.

On the other hand, Justin couldn't believe that the woman he had nicknamed "Avocado" was actually the date of the young man. This was far from ideal, and he found himself feeling a touch irritated.

Amy was studying the young man across from her, who still held the pink rose, uncertain about her next move. Upon closer inspection, he was rather pleasant-looking, though not enough to set her heart racing like the Casanova over there.

Stop it, Amy. Stop thinking like this immediately. You're here to meet this nice man. Talk to him. Now!

"Apologies for the delay. I got held up on my way here," she said, hoping to calm her racing heart.

"It's completely fine. I was just enjoying the view outside," he replied with a smile.

"Oh, here's your rose," he added, handing the flower to her.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. He seemed genuinely nice.

"Please, take a seat," the man said as he moved to the side and pulled out the chair for her.

Amy was touched by his gesture. "How sweet," she thought, "such a gentleman. One point for my date in the 'gentleman' category."

"The view is quite beautiful at this time of evening, don't you think?" he continued, flashing his pearly white teeth at her.

Mentally, she increased his score. A man who showed emotion definitely deserved another point. Besides, those clean white teeth earned him some extra credit. She couldn't imagine dating someone with poor oral hygiene, let alone asking for their sperm.

She was actually quite pleased with how things were progressing. The man was already halfway to fitting her criteria, just three more points to go before she would consider asking him for his sperm. Everything seemed perfect.

"Hello, welcome. Have you decided on what you would like to order yet?" Amy looked up to see the waitress holding a notepad and pen.

She smiled at the waitress and then turned her attention to the young man—chocolate chippy...what was his name? It was in the profile on her laptop. Why couldn't she remember? Justin, was it Justin? Wait, that was the Casanova's name.

Why could she remember Justin's name and not this handsome man's? Useless, Amy, absolutely useless. How could she hope to find the perfect genes for her baby if she couldn't even remember the guy's name? And here she possessed the gift of remembering all her patients' names, even when they had only told her once. She scolded herself for her disgraceful lapse in memory.

Amy mentally scolded herself to silence her own nagging thoughts. "It's Ronald," the man said, picking up on her perplexed expression, which essentially conveyed, "What was your name again? Because I forgot it already, even though I read your profile just last night. My apologies." He added, "My name is Ronald."

Amy found his politeness adorable and mentally tallied four points in his favor. Perhaps there was a future with him after all.

They engaged in light conversation, discovering that Ronald was twenty-three, a seven-year age difference that didn't seem to pose any barriers. Casanova had remarked that she looked no older than twenty, at least until her real age was revealed. She hoped this wouldn't be the case with Ronald.

They also discussed his hobbies. He had recently graduated from university with a journalism degree from Massey University in Wellington. Despite searching for the right job, he currently worked as a librarian, driven by his love for books, just like her. Ding! Ding! Ding! Another significant commonality.

Amy could talk endlessly about Agatha Christie, her favorite mystery author, or Alexia Praks, her favorite romance author. She could see a promising connection forming between them in the future.

Amy was thoroughly enjoying her dinner with Ronald when the abrupt screeching of a chair being pushed back from across the dining room disrupted their conversation. She turned to witness the sudden commotion: Casanova had abandoned the woman seated across from him and was now advancing toward her, his face a brewing storm on the brink of eruption.

Amy felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl, who had been unceremoniously ditched. She must be feeling sad and embarrassed by Casanova's actions. Her gaze was fixated on scrutinizing the tablecloth, as though searching for stains. However, there was also a sense of relief that at least this woman hadn't fallen victim to Casanova's charms, unlike most others.

Amy was about to release a sigh of relief when Justin arrived at their table. Her body tensed, every nerve alert as he leaned in close to her. Not a single strand of hair separated them when he whispered huskily into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Then, he strode past her, leaving her mouth agape, while Ronald looked perplexed at the bizarre scene unfolding before him.

"Avocado?" Ronald asked, puzzled. "Do you know him?"

That wretched Casanova, Amy thought angrily. How dare he embarrass her in front of her potential partner? If she ever encountered him again, she vowed to give him a taste of his own medicine. She'd administer a potent local anesthetic to silence his smart mouth.

"Ah, no, not at all. I don't know him," Amy hastily denied.

It was the truth. She really didn't know him, even though they had met three times in the past few weeks. But they were still strangers, as she knew nothing about him beyond his name and reputation as a playboy.

"Oh, I thought he was your boyfriend or something, the way he was whispering in your ear and all," Ronald commented casually before returning his attention to his plate of Vietnamese pancakes.

Amy nearly choked on her rice rolls at Ronald's assumption that Justin was her boyfriend. She would sooner have all her teeth extracted without anesthesia than be labeled as Casanova's girlfriend.

Yes, she had to admit that he had initially intrigued her with the towel incident, but the moment she heard him speak, she had sworn him off. Amy and Justin were in completely different leagues.

"He must have seen us enjoying ourselves while his date didn't go so well," she asserted firmly.

"I guess so," Ronald replied before returning his focus to his meal.

Thankfully, after this brief disruption, everything returned to normal. Ronald inquired about Amy's profession, and she explained that she was a periodontist. Ronald wasn't familiar with the profession, so she had to elaborate. They even shared a laugh about dental hygiene, flossing, and interdental cleaning.

Everything was going wonderfully, Amy thought as she savored her char noodles. Ronald was a pleasant company, the restaurant was lovely, and all was right with the world. Just then, her phone rang. It must be Larry trying to check up on her.

Amy reached into her bag, searching for her phone amidst the clutter. Her hand landed on her driver's license, and intending to return it to her wallet, she placed it on the table and continued her search. Suddenly, a startled exclamation from Ronald caused her to jerk her head up and look at him.

Ronald shot up from his chair as if he'd been jolted by an electric shock. He hastily put on his jacket and slammed a fifty-dollar bill onto the table.

"Do you need to be somewhere urgently? You seem in a hurry," Amy inquired, growing concerned about Ronald's abrupt change in behavior. It didn't make sense. They had been getting along just fine moments ago. What had suddenly changed?

"Sorry, I have this rule. I don't date women older than me," Ronald explained while putting his wallet back in his pocket.

"What?" Amy blurted out, standing up from her chair, utterly shocked by his statement.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this. I should have adjusted the age range in the survey. I wasn't aware the system would match me with you. Look, I'm sorry, but I can't date you. I have to go now," Ronald apologized before swiftly leaving.

One moment he was there, and the next he was gone.

Amy sat back down in her chair as everyone in the restaurant stared at her. She had felt sorry for the girl Casanova had left behind not half an hour ago, and now she found herself in the same situation.

"All men are the same," Amy wanted to scream. First, that Justin guy, and now Ronald. Jerks and Casanovas. "I wish I would never see them again."

Then she noticed her driver's license. So that was the cause of all the commotion—her driver's license again. How pitiful could life get? Amy finished her meal, gloomily staring at her ID. At thirty, still single, and now freshly dumped on her first date, life was not going as planned.