right-hand corner of the screen, marked Go For It!, and clicked.
Dater’s remorse struck her in the next second, but it was too late now. She was out there in cyberspace, albeit under an assumed identity, and it was kind of exciting, as well as scary.
She’d taken a step, after all. Made a move, however tentative, toward her heart’s desire: a home and family of her own.
Carolyn slumped back in her chair, glumly scanning the Friendly Faces web page for a button that would allow her to back out of her trial membership—what had she been thinking?—but the best she could come up with was the Contact Us link.
That would have to do. She’d send a brief message, say she’d changed her mind about online dating and that would be that.
But then a message popped up.
Someone likes your friendly face! it crowed, in letters that appeared to be dancing across the screen. Click on the heart to get acquainted!
Carolyn hesitated, amazed and curious and wishing she’d worked on the gypsy skirt as planned, instead of surfing the Net.
She thought about Tricia, happily married and expecting a baby.
She thought about Brody Creed, who apparently believed he could just go around kissing women he’d dumped.
Dumped? He hadn’t even had the decency to do that. He’d just boogied, abandoned her in the middle of the night, while she was sleeping.
She clicked on the pulsing heart icon.
A photo of a nice-looking—as in, he looked as though he was probably nice—man popped up immediately. Hi, the message bar read. My name is Darren.
Darren wore a mild expression on his roundish face, and his hairline was receding, just a little. He was a dentist, divorced with no kids and he loved dogs and bowling and computer games.
At least appearance-wise, he was nothing like Brody.
A point in his favor, for sure.
Carolyn drew a deep, shaky breath, let it out slowly, and clicked on the chat button. Hello, she told him. I’m Carol.
Darren, in addition to his other talents, was a speedy typist. He flashed back with an immediate, Wow. That was fast. Hi, there, Carol.
Carolyn felt a pang of guilt. She’d been acquainted with the man for two seconds, and she was already lying to him. Lying to a divorced dentist, with no kids, who loved dogs.
What kind of person was she, anyway?
A careful one, she thought.
Hi, there, Darrell, she wrote back.
Darren, he corrected.
Carolyn stifled a groan. Sorry. Darren. I haven’t had much experience at this, as you’ve probably guessed. And my name isn’t Carol, it’s Carolyn. I don’t work in a bank and I’m looking for a husband to father my children. Anybody who isn’t a Creed and doesn’t have a criminal record will do.
Darren replied with an LOL and an animated smiley face that was winking. Everybody was new here once, he added, in his rapid-fire, e.e. cummings style. On the Friendly Faces site, I mean. It’s a great way to meet new people. Very low-key.
It’s a virtual singles bar, Carolyn thought but did not type. And the secret password is probably loser .
Really? Carolyn wrote in response. Have you met a lot of people through the site? And if so, why are you still trolling the web for prospective dates?
Sure, Darren answered. I’m making friends right and left. So far, it’s just been dinner and a movie, but, hey, at least I’m doing something besides filling cavities and begging patients to floss. Ha ha.
Darren had a sense of humor, then.
Sort of.
Carolyn sat with her fingers poised over the keyboard, and no earthly idea what to say next.
Carol? Darren asked. Are you still there?
I’m here, Carolyn replied.
You’re shy, Darren said.
Carolyn blew out a long breath, making her bangs tickle her forehead. Not really, she answered. There, she’d said something honest. She wasn’t shy. She was merely cautious. Sensible.
It finally occurred to her that if she was stretching the truth, Darren might be, too. Maybe his name was Dave, and he was married and not a dentist at all.
Dater’s remorse struck her in the next second, but it was too late now. She was out there in cyberspace, albeit under an assumed identity, and it was kind of exciting, as well as scary.
She’d taken a step, after all. Made a move, however tentative, toward her heart’s desire: a home and family of her own.
Carolyn slumped back in her chair, glumly scanning the Friendly Faces web page for a button that would allow her to back out of her trial membership—what had she been thinking?—but the best she could come up with was the Contact Us link.
That would have to do. She’d send a brief message, say she’d changed her mind about online dating and that would be that.
But then a message popped up.
Someone likes your friendly face! it crowed, in letters that appeared to be dancing across the screen. Click on the heart to get acquainted!
Carolyn hesitated, amazed and curious and wishing she’d worked on the gypsy skirt as planned, instead of surfing the Net.
She thought about Tricia, happily married and expecting a baby.
She thought about Brody Creed, who apparently believed he could just go around kissing women he’d dumped.
Dumped? He hadn’t even had the decency to do that. He’d just boogied, abandoned her in the middle of the night, while she was sleeping.
She clicked on the pulsing heart icon.
A photo of a nice-looking—as in, he looked as though he was probably nice—man popped up immediately. Hi, the message bar read. My name is Darren.
Darren wore a mild expression on his roundish face, and his hairline was receding, just a little. He was a dentist, divorced with no kids and he loved dogs and bowling and computer games.
At least appearance-wise, he was nothing like Brody.
A point in his favor, for sure.
Carolyn drew a deep, shaky breath, let it out slowly, and clicked on the chat button. Hello, she told him. I’m Carol.
Darren, in addition to his other talents, was a speedy typist. He flashed back with an immediate, Wow. That was fast. Hi, there, Carol.
Carolyn felt a pang of guilt. She’d been acquainted with the man for two seconds, and she was already lying to him. Lying to a divorced dentist, with no kids, who loved dogs.
What kind of person was she, anyway?
A careful one, she thought.
Hi, there, Darrell, she wrote back.
Darren, he corrected.
Carolyn stifled a groan. Sorry. Darren. I haven’t had much experience at this, as you’ve probably guessed. And my name isn’t Carol, it’s Carolyn. I don’t work in a bank and I’m looking for a husband to father my children. Anybody who isn’t a Creed and doesn’t have a criminal record will do.
Darren replied with an LOL and an animated smiley face that was winking. Everybody was new here once, he added, in his rapid-fire, e.e. cummings style. On the Friendly Faces site, I mean. It’s a great way to meet new people. Very low-key.
It’s a virtual singles bar, Carolyn thought but did not type. And the secret password is probably loser .
Really? Carolyn wrote in response. Have you met a lot of people through the site? And if so, why are you still trolling the web for prospective dates?
Sure, Darren answered. I’m making friends right and left. So far, it’s just been dinner and a movie, but, hey, at least I’m doing something besides filling cavities and begging patients to floss. Ha ha.
Darren had a sense of humor, then.
Sort of.
Carolyn sat with her fingers poised over the keyboard, and no earthly idea what to say next.
Carol? Darren asked. Are you still there?
I’m here, Carolyn replied.
You’re shy, Darren said.
Carolyn blew out a long breath, making her bangs tickle her forehead. Not really, she answered. There, she’d said something honest. She wasn’t shy. She was merely cautious. Sensible.
It finally occurred to her that if she was stretching the truth, Darren might be, too. Maybe his name was Dave, and he was married and not a dentist at all.
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