Free Sweet Misfortune: A Novel by Kevin Alan Milne

can honestly say that I’ve never personally known a chocolatier before.”
    “I wish I could say that I’ve never known a doctor before,” she teased. “But a foot doctor? Honestly, how many problems can there be with feet that we should need specialists to work on them?”
    He chuckled at her sarcasm. “You’d be surprised. Just wait until your arches collapse, and see if you don’t go running to the nearest podiatrist.”
    The waiter approached. “More water?” he asked, but then began filling Sophie’s glass before she could reply. “And you, sir?”
    He nodded.
    While Andre cleared a few dishes, Garrett took a moment to glance at his watch. By his calculations, their date was probably halfway over, and he found himself already disappointed that his evening with Sophie Jones would eventually come to an end.
    “Can I borrow your pen?” he asked Sophie.
    She gave him a questioning look but handed it across the table. He took one more sugar packet and quickly wrote a few words across the top.
    “I’ll be right back,” he said, then stood and walked partway around the restaurant, and placed the sugar in the windowsill beside an empty table.
    “What was that all about?” she said, when he returned.
    “One more souvenir,” he responded. “I want to make sure it gets back to us before we leave, so I gave it a head start.”
    She gave him another funny look, but mostly she was just looking at the way his dimples danced when he smiled. “I see.”
    Several minutes later, while they were eating their entrees, Sophie’s Sweet’n Low came into view again, and a few minutes after that it was within her reach beside their table.
    “Four names,” she said proudly, after picking it up. “Two from Spokane, one from Portland, and one all the way from Connecticut.” She flipped it over. “Oh, and a message on the back! ‘Saccharine causes cancer!’ ”
    They both laughed out loud.
    “I’m not sure that’s been proven,” Garrett quipped, “but it’s funny anyway.”
    It wasn’t much longer before Garrett’s first sugar packet arrived. He let Sophie do the honors, since she’d put it up there for him to begin with. “Darn,” she said, pretending to be upset. “You got more signatures than me. Two from Spokane again; probably the same ones as mine. Then one from Seattle, and three from California.”
    “But no messages?”
    Sophie flipped it over and burst out laughing.
    “What? Don’t tell me someone thinks sugar is a carcinogen, too.”
    The lighting in the restaurant wasn’t ideal, but Garrett could have sworn that Sophie was blushing. “No,” she said, suppressing more laughter. She paused to read it once more to herself, and then closed her fist around it. “You really want to hear it?”
    “Of course. I like a good laugh.”
    “Very well. It says, ‘Hey Blondie, ditch the dork. We have an extra seat at our table.’ Signed, Rodney and friends.”
    “It doesn’t really say that, does it?” Garrett asked, his brow suddenly furrowed.
    Sophie started laughing out loud again as she handed it across the table. Then she looked past Garrett and waved politely.
    Garrett felt blood rushing to his face as soon as he read the brief message. Spinning around to see who Sophie was waving at, his face turned even redder when he saw that the culprits—three men in their fifties—were practically falling off their chairs and laughing hysterically. One of them,
probably Rodney, had laughed himself to tears. They all waved and pointed at Garrett, and continued laughing.
    “I’m sorry,” Sophie said, still trying to quell a chuckle. “For what it’s worth, I disagree with their assessment. You really don’t strike me as being dorky.”
    Garrett knew that his cheeks were still flushed, but he tried not to think about it. “Hey, don’t go jumping to conclusions,” he joked. “Think about it. What says
dork
more than getting set up on a blind date by your mother?”
    Sophie tilted her head at