Read Getting Even for Free Online

I meet these days are losers with a capital L. If they’re not starstruck because of who I am, then they’re just plain weirdos. For the most part, if the man is someone a self-respecting woman wouldn’t be caught dead with, then you can bet he’ll hit on me. Trust me, it never fails.
    There’s something about being on television that makes people think they know you. And when guys think they know you, they’re much more forward. For example, a few weeks ago at a fund-raising event, a well-dressed black man approached me and passed me a note. It read, “You and me, outside in the gazebo in five minutes.”
    Needless to say, I didn’t make that date.
    I have such shitty luck with men that I have sworn off dating. I really have. What’s the point? There’s not one decent single guy out there.
    But Rhonda, a camerawoman at the station, tells me I’m wrong. She swears that she’s got the perfect man for me—her cousin.
    I’m not particularly interested in seeing this guy, but Rhonda has been on my case about it for months. So, despite my obvious bad luck with men, I have decided I am a glutton for punishment and have accepted a date with Rhonda’s cousin for this evening. I put off meeting Trevor for months—until I realized that Rhonda wasn’t going to drop the issue.
    There is a knock on my dressing-room door. “Come in,” I call.
    Rhonda pokes her head through the door. “Hey, Lishelle.”
    “Hey.”
    “I love your hair like that.”
    I tuck some locks behind my ear. I’m still a bit self-conscious about it. When it comes to hair, I’m pretty conservative. I keep it nape length, and never color it anything other than black. At least I hadn’t. All that changed last weekend when my stylist urged me to do something different. I caved under pressure and allowed her to add some auburn highlights. Believe me, I started having a panic attack once I’d passed the point of no return. But Jenny, my stylist, promised me it would complement my skin tone. And she was right.
    “Thanks,” I say to Rhonda.
    “Trevor will be impressed.” She winks.
    But will I be impressed with Trevor? For Rhonda’s sake, I hope so. She’s been trying for so long to get us together.
    “What time are you meeting him?” she asks.
    “Eight o’clock.” That will give me a little time to freshen up after the newscast is over. I plan to meet Trevor at a restaurant downtown. He offered to pick me up, but I politely declined. If I have my own car and things don’t go well, I can leave.
    I’m jaded, can you tell?
    “You’ll have a good time,” Rhonda assures me. “Trevor really is a sweetheart.”
    “I hope so.”
    Rhonda gives me a smile then disappears. Knowing I have work to do, I force myself out of my chair. I still have to get my hair and makeup done, and after that, it’s showtime.

     

    Two hours later, my head is still pounding. I’m at the restaurant now, sitting in my car in the parking lot, dreading the thought of going inside. I just don’t know if I should do this. Knowing my luck, this date will cap off a stressful day with even more stress. I should probably just go home and go to bed.
    But I am here already, resigned to my fate. I may as well try to enjoy myself. There are worse ways to spend a Thursday night than meeting a potential new boyfriend.
    I apply more lipstick before getting out of the car. Then, as I walk up to the restaurant door, my stomach flutters with nerves. I hope I’m not making a mistake. Really, it’s not like I need a man, although I admit that having one might be nice.
    “Hello,” I say to the male host once I’m inside. “I’m meeting someone. Crenshaw. Trevor.”
    The host peruses his open schedule book. “Ah, yes. Right this way.”
    My hands sweat on my Louis Vuitton clutch as I follow the host through the Macaroni Grill. This was Trevor’s choice, and a good one. It’s casual but upscale and has great food.
    “Here you go.”
    “Thank—” The rest of the word