Free Love at First Date by Susan Hatler Page A

with my mom, I took a long hot bath, hoping to soak away my troubles. No such luck. Now, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, I opened my front door and stared miserably at Rachel, who looked gorgeous in a jade green dress. “Forget tonight. I’m not going.”
    “Turn.” She made a circular motion with her finger, shut the door behind her, then nudged me toward my bedroom. “Change.”
    With Rachel’s hand planted firmly on my back, I dragged my feet as I moved forward begrudgingly. “I had an awful fight with my mom.”
    “Really?” She headed straight for my closet, flipped through my clothes, and eyed a beige dress up and down before dismissing it. “What about?”
    I dropped back on my bed. “Thirty years of pent up aggression, I think. She’s hounding me to get back to Detailed Dating . I told her I’m only interested in one person and she was less than thrilled with my choice.” I sat up suddenly. “Do you think tracking down Henry on the internet would be going overboard?”
    “No need.” She selected a sexy black and red silk camisole from my closet and handed it to me. “I took care of it.”
    Every muscle in my body froze. “Y-you what?”
    She gave an exaggerated shrug. “I called All Things Furry, spoke to Abby Wilson, and used my powers of persuasion to get Henry’s phone number. Then I called him, admitted I’d jumped to conclusions about you liking that Detailed Dating guy, and told him which art gallery we’d be at tonight if he wanted to meet up with us.”
    I squealed. “You did? Seriously?”
    “Yes, which is why you need to get dressed.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “He kinda came across stunned when I mentioned we were going to the art showing so I told him we were quite cultural, thank you very much.”
    I threw my arms around her. “I love you, Rach. You’ve taken the term ‘best friend’ to a whole new level.”
    “Ooof.” She patted me on the back as I tightened my grip. “It was the least I could do after my negative vibes from my Dillon drama botched your cute flirtation. I can’t believe I lost two days of my life being depressed over that twig.”
    “He was so not worth it.” I slipped out of my bathrobe, then into a black skirt and the dressy tank Rach picked out. “How did Henry sound when you called?”
    “Surprised.” She held her hands up. “But in a good way.”
    “And he said he’d meet us?”
    She tapped a crimson painted fingernail against her chin. “Not specifically, but he seemed interested.”
    My stomach clenched. “What if he doesn’t come?”
    “That wouldn’t be a good sign.” Apparently noticing the disappointed look I felt spread across my face, she waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure he will, though.”
    Checking my watch, I saw we were running late to meet my mom and Robert for dinner. I zipped to the bathroom, did a re-touch on my make-up, ran a brush through my hair, then checked myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes wide, and I tucked my shoulder-length hair behind my ears. This silky tank and black skirt was a lot sexier than anything Henry had seen me wear to doggy class. Not exactly attire for practical black boots. This ensemble screamed red high heels all the way.
    I hurried to the living room and slipped into my gorgeous red stilettos. Every nerve in my body felt anxious. What if he didn’t show?
    I couldn’t think like that.
    Because what if he did show.
    Taking a deep breath, I opened the front door, and held my head high. “I’m ready.”
    No more playing it safe.
    If Henry came to the art gallery tonight, I’d reveal my feelings to him.
    ****
    As we walked into Ripple Art Gallery in downtown Sacramento, my mom and I speared in different directions.
    “Gee, that dinner wasn’t uncomfortable or anything.” Rachel accepted a glass of champagne from a server, handed me a flute, and steered me toward an abstract painting that would’ve looked great in my living room.
    “How