Free Kismetology by Jaimie Admans Page A

not a stupid, girly job. It is
a—"
    He interrupts me. "Painting silly little flowers on
women’s nails is a good, validating job?"
    "I’m sorry," I say. "I’m really not here to
talk about me. Besides, what’s so good about accounting?"
    "I’m a valued member of my team. I’m up for a promotion
next month. What are your promotion opportunities like? You graduate from
painting a flower to painting a tree or something?"
    "Aren’t you about retirement age? What good is a
promotion to you?" That’s right, Mac. Get him on the age thing, where it
really hurts.
    He laughs. A horrible, fake laugh that is directed at me.
"Yeah," he scoffs. "We both know how young I look. Even you,
Miss Nail Technician, can’t deny that I look forty at the oldest. I have good
genes."
    "Yes, but horrible fingernails," I cast them a
disgusting look.
    "Like anyone cares about fingernails. I bet you’ve
never been on a date where a guy has taken one look at you and gone, ‘Wow, look
at those fingernails.’"
    "Actually, I have—"
    "Yeah, but you’re a nail technician."
    "And you’re an asshole. Thank you for your time."
    I get up to leave.
    "Stupid Jane Austen bitch," he calls after me.
    Jane Austen bitch ? I assume he means that chivalry is
something from Jane Austen’s time, but I’m not staying to find out.
    I look around for a waitress and catch Holly’s eye. She
winks at me (but somehow manages it with her mouth closed, unlike Mr.
Accountant over there.) I take the wink to mean that Andy will be getting a
dose of laxative tonight.
     

 
    CHAPTER 15
     
    "Hello?" I pick up the
phone when it rings.
    "Hi, can I speak to Mackenzie Atkinson, please?"
    "Speaking."
    "Hi, this is David. You left a message replying to my
personal ad. Sorry I haven’t got back to you sooner, I’ve been out of the
country on business. Are you still looking for a date for your mother?"
    Ah, this is Guy Number Two—" Divorced male, 55, WLTM
an outgoing 45-55 year old lady who loves animals and spending time outdoors. "—the
one that sounded most promising. I can definitely give him a chance, especially
as he has a legitimate excuse as to why it’s been two weeks since I left my
message for him.
    "Hi," I say. "Good to hear from you."
    "You too. I was worried that I’d left it too
late."
    "No, no. Not at all."
    He sounds nice on the phone, and we arrange to meet two
nights later at Belisana.
     
    I think it must be a sign from fate when we arrive at
exactly the same time. I’m standing behind him in the queue to get in, and when
he gets up to the hostess and gives my name, she recognises me by now and just
points behind her. We laugh about it for a while. Is it overly optimistic of me
to believe that fate is on my side with this one? After all the idiots,
shouldn’t one be nice? Even normal would do. I’ll even settle for just
non-mutant at this point.
    "I like your hair," David says as we sit down.
"Very lively."
    "Thank you," I say. "I’ve never heard lively
before. Messy or curly, yes. But not lively."
    He smiles. Nice smile. Real teeth. Always a bonus. I wonder
if Phil has had his veneers put on yet.
    "So, what do you do for a living, Mackenzie?" He
asks me.
    "I’m a nail technician," I say.
    "Wow. Cool."
    Wow, cool ? Well, that’s an improvement on the Andy
guy.
    "How about you?" I ask.
    "I’m a police officer. That’s where I’ve been for the
past two weeks—away on a training course. In Belgium."
    "That sounds interesting."
    "Yes." He smiles. "Yes, it was quite."
    "Did you get many responses to your ad?"
    "Nope, just you. Apparently divorced men are out of
fashion these days."
    I laugh. Sense of humour—point one.
    "I don’t believe that," I say. "I thought
your ad sounded great."
    "That’s good to know. So, Mac, tell me about your
mum."
    "Eleanor," I correct him, thinking she’d be
devastated if she thought of men calling her a mother. "She’ll be fifty in
June, and she loves animals and the outdoors, just like you. I think you’d