Chapter Eight

Clarice seethed with frustration, her emotions swirling like a tempest as she approached the man holding the pink rose. Sensing her approach, he stood and adjusted his shirt sleeves, giving her a nervous smile. Apparently, she wasn't the only one feeling uneasy.

"Clarice?" he inquired, uncertain whether she was the same person he had matched with on the dating site.

"Yes," she tried to force a smile, but her encounter with that Casanova near the restroom had left her boiling, leaving her lips with only a slight slant.

Speaking of Casanova, he was now at a nearby table, his eyes fixed on her every move. Blast! She should have known he would be dining here too. She focused her attention back on the man in front of her, whose name momentarily slipped her mind.

Darcy, that was it. His name was Darcy.

Darcy seemed pleasant and handsome up close, but he didn't set her heart aflutter like that Casanova over there. Ugh, Clarice, stop that! Focus on the man in front of you now!

As they chatted, she found common ground with Darcy, feeling more at ease in his company. But just as she was enjoying their conversation, a chair screeched across the room, drawing her attention. To her dismay, Casanova had abandoned his date and was heading straight for her, his face a brewing storm.

Clarice felt bad for the girl he left behind, but at least she hadn't fallen for his charm like most others. However, her relief was short-lived as he stopped right at their table, leaning in close to her. His whisper sent shivers down her spine.

"Have fun, Avocado," he husked, leaving her speechless. He strode away, leaving her gaping, while Darcy seemed confused by the whole scene.

"Avocado?" Darcy asked, wondering if she knew him.

"No, not at all. I don't know him," Clarice denied, trying to forget the encounter. But she couldn't shake off the feeling that Casanova had intentionally embarrassed her in front of Darcy.

The rest of the date with Darcy went smoothly, and they seemed to connect on many levels. But just as she was enjoying her noodles, her phone rang, and she rummaged through her bag to answer it. In the process, her driver's license landed on the table, catching Darcy's attention.

His sudden reaction stunned her as he abruptly excused himself, revealing that he had a rule not to date women older than him. Clarice couldn't believe what she was hearing, feeling crushed and rejected once again.

All men are the same, she thought, her heart heavy with disappointment. And to think she had felt sorry for that girl Casanova left behind, only to find herself in the same position. Thirty, single, and now ditched on her first date. How pathetic can life get?

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