Boyfriend From Hell (Falling Angels Saga) Read Free

the girls at school’s mom.” I pretended to concentrate on the chopped veggies, scooping them into a bowl to be sautéed once the chicken was done. Yet through the corner of my eye, I was watching, as like a hungry fish she slowly rose to the bait.
    “So…” She sniffed at it: “What happened to Mrs. Tobolewski?” And then
Bam!
She swallowed it whole.
    “Oh, didn’t I tell you about her? She went on a date.” I let the word
date
hang in the air between us, heavy with harmful meaning.
    “Really?”
    This was too easy. Should I reel her in now, or play her for a while? I should probably practice in case this dating thing gets serious. I’ll play her. “Huh?” I said, shooting her my best blank stare.
    “Mrs. Tobolewski’s date. What happened?” The sautéing was forgotten for the moment, as she urged me on with her eyes.
    “It’s not important. I don’t want to worry you.”
    “Megan Barnett!” she implored.
    “Oh, all right.” I made a big deal out of stopping my chopping. I sighed. “Well, let’s see, the girl’s mother was about your age, attractive like you, and from what I can remember, it was her first date since the divorce.”
    “Ooh. Bad date, huh?”
    “Well, not for the guy who lopped her head off. I’m sure he had loads of fun.”
    “Oh, my!” She nearly dropped a chicken slice on the floor.  
    “And it was their
first
date,” I repeated.  
    I could tell from her sickly pallor she was totally rethinking the dating thing. A pang of remorse shot through me. I really did feel bad fooling her this way. We were friends.  But that’s exactly why I was doing it. She had convinced herself that dating was a good idea. It was up to me as a
friend
to point out the pitfalls.
    “How did they meet?” She began placing the sautéed chicken slices on a paper towel to drain.
    “Huh? Oh… they umm… met at church.” The answer was totally unplanned, and yet totally genius. I mean if you can’t trust a guy you meet in church…
    “Where did they go?”
    “Go?” What was with all of these questions? Was I not making myself clear? The woman was dead because she went on a date.
    “On the date,” she repeated. “Where did they go?”
    “Mom, does it really matter where they went? The man killed her!”
    I was beginning to lose it. Not good. I needed to play it cool. I took a deep breath.
    “Skiing,” I said. “They went skiing at a very posh ski resort. And did I mention it was their first date ever? The first date she’d been on since
all
those years ago when she went out with her husband.” Even an idiot could make the connection.
    “Did they catch him?”
    But not my mother. I lost it. “What difference does that make, Mom? She’s dead! Do I have to draw you a map? The woman is dead because she went on a date.”
    “No. She’s dead because she didn’t screen properly.”
    “Wha—?”
     “Megan, this is sounding an awful lot like one of those urban myths. I mean, who goes on a ski trip on their first date? Really! First dates should be coffee in a public place.”
    Okay, so she
has
read some of the literature on single-parent dating. Who knew?
    I handed her the bowl of veggies and she began ladling them into the pan.
    “You and I aren’t going to make that mistake, are we, hon?” She said this, and then she smiled at me. She smiled as if everything I’d said, rather than discouraging her, proved her point.
    “Umm. No.” I was at a loss for words.
    What just happened here? As I mentally retraced my footsteps trying to see where I zigged when I should have zagged, Suze wiped her hands on a towel and moved to the counter where she picked up a pamphlet.
    “I appreciate your concern, Megan. But don’t worry. My first date will be an e-date,” she announced proudly. “Those bad guys can’t harm me in cyberspace, now can they?”
    Should I tell her she could catch a deadly computer virus? Nah, she’d never go for that.
    “This is the dating questionnaire they sent