Page 10 of My Killer Blind Date

‘It’s OK,’ I say. ‘I still want to be your bridesmaid. And I’m sorry I ruined the fitting.’

‘You didn’t ruin anything. It was me and my big mouth. Can you ever forgive me?’

Despite the hurt still pulsing in my chest, I can’t stay mad at George. She isn’t perfect. But she always apologizes when she’s wrong, and that’s more than can be said for most.

‘Of course I can,’ I say.

‘Really?’ She sniffles.

‘Really.’ I pause. ‘Did you mean what you said about missing the old Margot?’

She doesn’t answer right away. I listen to her blow her nose.

‘I mean … yes,’ she finally says. ‘But I’m not saying it’s your fault you changed. You’ve had a lot of trauma. Of course I can’t expect you to bounce back like it was nothing.’

‘It’s been rough.’ My voice cracks.

‘I know, sweetie. Look – I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it. I really think the dentist’s office laying you off could be a blessing in disguise! Remember your dream? The coffee shop? It’s such a beautiful idea, employing women who are escaping from domestic abuse and paying them fairly! You can’t let one bad year ruin the dream forever. I feel like you need to give it a shot.’ She pauses. ‘I’m not sure how you’re spending your evenings these days, if you’re just taking some needed rest, or whatever – but maybe you could start working on a business plan. Put your fancy college degree to work!’

I almost say, you mean my English major? I changed majors so many times, that’s what I ended up with, less for a love of Shakespeare and more because that’s what added up in terms of credits after trying out French, Business, Art History and a brief but exhilarating fling with Astrophysics.

I don’t speak right away. Instead, I bite my lip and sit with George’s words. Maybe she’s right and it’s time to take a new risk, despite my history of bad judgment in men and majors. But I don’t have the capacity. I mentally shove the whole coffee shop thing into my ‘Future Margot’ bucket. How do I tell George that I owe it to Zoe to keep looking for her, every day, in every spare minute I’ve got?

I know how it would seem to George that I’m still trying to find out what happened to Zoe. Codependent to the max. Six months is a long time when it comes to finding missing people. If the case isn’t cold, it’s definitely not warm. And yet people don’t just disappear. They have to go somewhere – their bodies, at least. Which means there’s always the chance of finding them.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

‘I—’ I begin, then stop. ‘—appreciate your belief in the coffee shop. Something to think about. But, um, I should get to bed. Work tomorrow.’

‘I mean, totally understandable that you’re not ready to think about the cafe stuff. Maybe down the road. But really quickly, before you go …’ George speaks the next part in a rush. ‘I kind of may have someone who I really want to set you up on a blind date with.’

I groan. ‘This? Again? George. No.’

‘Please?’

‘I don’t want to be your pity project!’

‘But this could be good for you.’

‘I’m a wreck!’

‘Yes, maybe you’re a wreck right now, but Margot, don’t you get it? This could be the thing to lift you out of the pit! Meeting someone great – please just give it a chance. For me? Pretty please? It can be your wedding gift to me! You don’t even have to get me anything else!’

Ugh. Only George can pivot from an utterly sincere, tearful apology to full force won’t-take-no-for-an-answer bossypants. Anyway, I already bought her the Kitchen Aid ice cream-making attachment from her registry.

‘I already got you something.’

‘Return it!’ she cries. ‘All I want is for you to be happy again!’

‘A date with a rando is not going to fix me.’

‘Hear me out. I know the last guy was a bust. This guy is a total catch. He’s a complete hottie, and really really nice. This guy could be it!’

‘So you know him pretty well? What does he do for a living?’

‘Um … so I don’t exactly know him super well, personally speaking …’

Oh God, here we go again.