Tinley’s sweaty palms slip on her steering wheel as she turns the corner, pulling into the parking lot next to the restaurant. Her nerves are through the roof, but more than anything, she’s mad. Why did she give in to something as stupid as this? Those bitches—the audacity to say she was in need of this? Just because her thirtieth birthday is right around the corner doesn’t mean she has some kind of biological clock ticking away. Plenty of women focus on their careers and then worry about settling down later. That’s actually become the norm, although if Tinley were being honest with herself, she doesn’t really have much to show for her almost thirty years of life. What does she have? An extra fifty pounds that she could work toward losing but loves cupcakes way too much to part with, a dead-end job selling cruise packages to people over the phone though she’s never even been on a cruise herself, and to top it all off, she lives with her best friend because said job doesn’t pay her well enough to afford the rent on her own.

Yeah, Tinley, your life is looking really promising and exciting, and—ugh—a cupcake sounds really good right about now. She still has a couple from her last batch of strawberries and cream waiting for her at home. Her mouth salivates just thinking about the burst of flavor from the juicy strawberries. Not to mention the chocolate espresso ones she made last night still need to be frosted. Tara’s little shopping trip interrupted her plans of doing that today. The cold metal of the gear shift meets her fingertips as she considers backing her car right up and driving home.

A tapping on her window causes her to jump in her seat and scream as she sees a smiling face looking back at her. What in the actual fuck? The excessively perky blonde does a small finger wave, and Tinley reluctantly lowers her window. Her senses are overwhelmed by a disgustingly sweet floral scent as Barbie widens her smile.

Her voice is overly peppy, and Tinley silently wonders if she used to be a cheerleader? “Hi there. Are you here for Dating in the Dark?”

Now is her chance. All she has to do is say no and turn right back around toward the comfort of her home and delicious cupcakes. Dakota said she wasn’t going to be home at all tonight so no one would ever know…but Tinley would know. She would feel the weight of guilt as soon as the cupcake hit the pit of her stomach, and there’s no way she could lie to her sister or Dakota if they asked how tonight went—scratch that, when they ask because they both will.

Screw it. Her signature call center smile goes up, and she says, “Yeah, looks like I am. This is my first time, so not really sure what to expect.”

Blondie’s entire face lights up, and she checks something off on the clipboard she’s holding. “Oh, yay! I’m so happy you’re here with us. I was just coming out to round up any stragglers. We’re looking to get started in about five minutes, and I just wanted to let you know. And don’t worry. It’s totally not scary at all. Do you have any questions before you come inside?”

Why the hell are you organizing something as stupid as this? Will stabbing myself in the eye with a fork be more exciting than what I’m about to participate in? Are you single too? Am I at risk of being murdered when I step foot in that restaurant? Do you run background checks on the people who sign up for this or can anyone just come in off the street as long as they have the cash to drop? “Nope, not that I can think of.”

“Okay perfect. Well, I’ll see you inside in a few then.” She walks away toward a group of women walking through the parking lot, and her very perky voice carries back to Tinley. If there’s one thing that woman doesn’t have an issue with, it’s projecting her voice. “Hey ladies, are you here for Dating in the Dark?”

Does she have to fill a quota or something? Or maybe they have situations where people sign up and then never show up. That would be kind of awkward to have people waiting on the sidelines…unless they have to turn those people away, so everyone has a date the entire time. To be honest, the whole thing sounds kind of stressful, but then again, Tinley was never one for the whole party-planning thing. She was in charge of organizing an event in high school once, and it didn’t go over well. By the end, she wanted to pull all of her hair out and murder her entire team. Luckily, she didn’t do either.

Begrudgingly, she gets out of her car and slides her still sweaty palms down the front of her dress. After the shopping trip ended up being a disaster, Tinley stole something from Dakota’s closet. The dress hugs her in all the “right” places, but Tinley is the furthest thing from comfortable right now. Part of that is due to the Spanx sucking all of her extra baggage in. She takes one small step, and her heel gets caught in a crack in the concrete. Just great. She has all the luck in the world. She goes to take another step, but her heel won’t budge, and she’s stuck in place. Adding a little more force to her stride, she tugs and hears the one sound she doesn’t want to hear. The heel cracks and she falls down due to the momentum, leaving the heel of Dakota’s shoe completely broken.

Her ass is the first thing down on the asphalt, and the impact sends a shockwave through her body. She cries out in pain, and the skin on both of her palms is skinned from where she tried to break her fall. She looks around and fortunately, no one was around to witness her misery, but now she’s really tempted to get up and go home. If her klutziness is any indication of how the evening is going to go, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Regaining her composure, she slips both heels off her feet and stands up not so gracefully. She tugs on the heel still stuck in the pavement, and magically it comes right out; she probably should have just taken the shoe off in the first place. Tossing all the pieces into the trunk of her car, she pulls out her trusty Chucks and slides them on. Good thing she doesn’t have to impress anyone with her outfit.

She hobbles toward the restaurant trying to go as fast as possible. But with each step, her ass screams in pain. That is going to leave one nasty bruise that is for sure. She can already feel the size of it growing. Hopefully, it isn’t too bad because she has to sit on her butt for the next hour and being in physical pain will just make this whole night that much worse. When she makes her way inside, she is kind of shocked at the turnout. The tables in the middle of the room are completely empty, but the walls are lined with at least thirty different women. She thought for sure this whole thing would be a bust, but it looks like she was very wrong.

Tinley glances around the room, and for the most part, everyone looks normal, but if there’s one thing she has learned from her job at the call center, it’s that looks can be deceiving. She swears most of the old ladies with the foulest mouths are probably the sweetest-looking ones in person. Everyone is hiding something, and you definitely can’t always judge a book by its cover—except for the busty blonde in the corner. Her hair is bigger than the state of Texas, her top is cut all the way down to her belly, and Tinley can just imagine the cloud of perfume floating off of her right now. She’s definitely not hiding anything unless of course, she stashed it in her hair; then who knows what she’s got concealed.

The unassuming redhead standing next to Miss Texas looks like a librarian. She’s wearing a dull colored cardigan, an ill-fitting pencil skirt, and a pair of Mary Jane’s on her feet. Her outward appearance is the epitome of boring, but if Tinley had to guess on the kink scale from one to ten, this woman is definitely an eleven.

Well, maybe they’re not all so normal. Off in the corner, there’s a woman standing all by herself. She’s got mousy brown hair and is wearing some crazy leggings that are covered in cats, which matches perfectly with her oversized sequined tunic that has a giant cat in the middle. Yep, that one is a crazy cat lady for sure.

She continues her judgment of the “competition” and finds herself rather entertained making up potential stories about each of their lives. There’s the single mom with the bags under her eyes, the perky sorority girl who is probably also a cheerleader, the surgical intern who is looking for a night off but keeps looking at her phone every time a beep goes off in the room, the former beauty queen turned stripper, and so on. She has a story for almost every woman in the room when the door from outside opens up.

The blonde from outside comes in a few seconds later with her clipboard in hand. She closes the door to the room and steps in the middle, calling everyone’s attention to her. “I want to thank you all for joining us tonight for Dating in the Dark. It should be a really fun evening, and we’re just about ready to get started. First off, I’m going to have you all take a seat at the tables. Please sit on the far side of the table facing toward the door. Your dates will all be seated across from you.”

She pauses and motions for everyone to start moving. The click-clacking of heels echoes throughout the room as they all make their way to the various tables. Tinley takes a seat at one farthest from the door and patiently waits for the woman to continue explaining everything.

“Perfect, now that you’re all seated, the waiters are going to file into the room and take your drink orders. Once you’re all set, we’ll get started.”

Surprisingly, the whole drink ordering and delivery process takes a lot less time than Tinley expected. Each table has their own waiter assigned to them, so it runs rather smoothly. Maybe this whole night won’t be so bad after all.

“Okay ladies, we’re going to go grab the guys and let the fun begin. Just remember, we’re keeping this one hundred percent confidential, so on top of not being able to see each other, no sharing names either, okay? Okay, well you all have fun! Happy dating.” Then the lights are cut, and Tinley is surrounded by nothing but darkness.

What have I gotten myself into?