Free Match Me by Liz Appel Page A

one?”
    “Phase one was letting go.” She chewed her nail and thought. “We need to move on to phase two pretty quickly. Minimize the possibility of relapse.”
    “Trust me. I am not going to relapse.” I said this with confidence. I was never more certain of anything in my entire life.
    “Right,” she nodded, still thinking. “But we need to move on. To recovery.”
    “Recovery?” I laughed. “Recovery from what?”
    “From your monumentally horrific choices in men,” she said. “From bad dates. You need to see that there are good guys out there. Guys like Domenico.”
    I shook my head. “Oh, no. I am not going on Match Me again. No way. No.”
    “Oh my God.” She snapped her gum. “Just hear me out. I’m not talking about a dating site.”
    I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”
    “No, I’m going to set you up on a different kind of blind date.” She grinned and grabbed her purse from the counter. “Be ready. Tomorrow night.”

TWENTY-ONE
     
     
    I might have broken free of Chase but Jill still had a firm hold around me. Because the next night, I was standing in my bedroom, contemplating the contents of my closet, searching for an outfit for my date.
    “Alright, here’s the deal,” Jill had said when she’d called that morning. “You’re going to meet in the Cities.”
    “What? I don’t go to the Cities. Ever.”
    “Well, you also wouldn’t look seriously at other guys. Ever. Things change. Including this.”
    “That’s different.”
    “I know. This doesn’t involve having to change your whole way of thinking,” she said. “It simply means you get in the car and drive twenty miles.”
    I sighed. “What if I don’t want to?”
    “Phase two,” she reminded me. “An essential part of developing and nurturing the new and improved Bonnie. You need this.”
    I slumped against the kitchen counter, gripping my cup of coffee. “Where?”
    “There’s this really great restaurant. Psycho Suzi’s. I texted you the address. Just plug it into your phone—your map feature will get you there. It’s right off 94.”
    “I’ll never find it. You know me.”
    “Get off on Broadway. Hang a left. Boom, you’re there.”
    “And Psycho Suzi’s?” I shook my head. “What kind of name is that? Is this some crack about my mental health over the last month?”
    “The last month?” She snorted. “No, the last ten years.”
    “Whatever. Fine. And who am I meeting? Turtle Killer’s brother?”
    “Ha. No.”
    “Who?”
    “You’ll know when you see him,” she said cryptically.
    “Seriously, Jill. I need to know.”
    “Just trust me. Have I ever let you down?”
    “Turtle Killer…”
    “You picked him!”
    I’d forgotten that little detail. “Roberto.”
    “Oh, please. There was a language barrier there. Not my fault.”
    So there I was, hours later, staring at the contents of my closet. I was going on a date twenty miles outside of my comfort zone. Literally. And with a complete and total stranger. I had no idea what to look for. And I had no idea what she’d told this guy about me.
    Maybe it was finally being free of my infatuation, or maybe it was something else, but I took care with my outfit. I picked out a sundress the color of a ripe raspberry and slipped it over my head. I hunted through my closet for shoes, trying to find something other than flip flops. The only nice pair I had were the sandals I’d worn to Chase’s wedding.
    I hesitated. Would it be a bad omen to wear those when I was starting my life over? Did I really want any reminders from that very recent chapter of my past?
    I held them in my hands and sat down on the edge of my bed. I turned them over, studying them. The one shoe was missing several rhinestones but they still sparkled in the afternoon sun that filtered through my window.
    I slipped them on. I stood up and studied my reflection in the floor-length mirror attached to the back of my bedroom door. They worked perfectly with the dress.
    I dug my