“What do you mean you’re too old? Girl, you’re only twenty-four, you’re still a baby! Wait until you’re my age, then you’ll know what old is!”

The harsh words were softened by a cackle of laughter and twinkling blue eyes, just a shade lighter than mine. Her eyes were rheumy with time and the strain of macular degeneration, but still beautiful.

“I should shoo you off my front porch, Mrs. Mallory. My day wasn’t that bad really.” I paused to rub the ache in my back. “I only fell down the steepest steps on campus and made a fool of myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re too old for a blind date, dear girl. Now, my grandson will be back from that nerd convention next week and he’s moving down to the basement apartment.” I saw she’d let that slip without thinking and tried not to grin as she tried to backtrack. “I mean from his business meeting. You just let me know if you change your mind, alright? He needs to make some friends so he won’t turn into a hermit down there.”

I hated blind dates and knew she probably just wanted to dump her freeloader—I mean, grandson—on me but decided to be polite. “I certainly will, Mrs. Mallory. I haven’t in the last few years, but you never know, right? Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Mrs. Mallory lived alone and often ate with my roommate and me, or we could be found at her house. We’d kind of all adopted each other, all of us without family in our little slice of Albertsville on the southern coast of South Carolina. She lived in a tiny house painted light blue with dark blue trim between the Victorian palace to her left and us in our not quite palace on the right. We did have a window seat, though, in one of those round bay windows that always have window seats. It must have been obligatory. I have to admit, it was my favorite room in the two-story house.

I waited for her answer as she sipped at her sweet tea, her eyes dancing with the delightful little secret she was about to tell me. For an elderly lady, Mrs. Mallory was active, fun-loving, and delighted in telling secrets, even her own.

“No, I’m heading out to the club for bingo night.” The pale widow, a small, bent woman with silvery white hair in a loose bun on the back of her head, gave me a wink. “Mr. Sandford is sneaking in the gin tonight.”

I gave a bark of laughter at the naughtiness of sneaking gin into an old folks’ club to party while playing bingo and took her hand. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Don’t be sassy, girl!” She gave me a stern look with pursed lips but the corners of her lips tilted as she looked down at me from the porch swing. “Don’t wait up for me tonight!”

I laughed again as she left the porch, her seventy-year-old legs quickly carrying her away. I might not be too old for a blind date, according to Jane Mallory, but I was too old for falling down stairs. I promised myself I’d take online classes next semester as I gathered up empty glasses of iced tea and went into the house I shared with my best friend.

“Tony? Have you seen my glasses? I could have sworn they were on my head, but they aren’t,” I called to my roommate and waited for an answer as I rinsed the glasses.

“Laney, you need some of those string-things little old church ladies use. You’re constantly losing those things, I don’t know why you don’t just get contacts!” Tony came into the kitchen, his light hazel eyes amused as he brought me the green plastic-framed glasses I’d been looking for since I came home. “You left them on the bathroom sink again, sweetie.”

I smiled at him gratefully and kissed his coffee-colored cheek. “You’re my hero!”

He tilted his head imperiously before he went to the fridge and pulled out a juice box. We liked apple juice more than pop and buying it in juice boxes just seemed sensible. Plus, I’ll admit, we kind of liked the childishness of it, the memory of being a kid returned every time we opened one.

“I have a date tonight with Justin. What are you going to do?” He took a delicate sip from the straw, his handsome face a picture as he grinned at me.

“Justin, huh? I won’t expect you home until morning then!” I studiously ignored his question and took out a microwave meal.

I hated them but on the nights when Tony went out on dates it was only me. I popped it into the microwave and waited. I knew he’d ask again.

“No dates tonight, Laney?” His deep voice was so soothing most of the time that I always told him he should be a radio DJ, but when he got into one of his ‘you need to date’ moods, I just wanted to strangle him.

“Why can’t I just date you, Tony?” I asked, knowing it was impossible.

“Well, if you want to spend that kind of money and become a man, honey, you’re welcome to it, but I got plenty of those. And you got plenty of what you need to find the right man to do the job for you, if you’d only let somebody do it.” He gave me a pointed look as he finished his juice box and tossed it in the trash.

“I’ll worry about it when I finish this law degree. Right now, I don’t want to be distracted by a man, or do something stupid like get pregnant. I just don’t feel that... need to have a man.” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

I’d been alone for so long, I’d learned to deal with my needs, even if I sometimes felt like crawling into the nearest bar and picking up a stranger just to feel someone touching me. I really didn’t want the distraction, though, so most nights I did what I could to relieve the ache by myself. There was no shame in it, and it kept me on the straight and narrow. Plus, I did a much better job alone than any past lover had. Tony didn’t need to know that, though.

“Well, you know what I think about that.” He gave me another pointed look. “You can’t be alone forever you know. You’ll dry up and blow away and youth is only for the young. You’d better use it while you can.”

I gave him a grim look and turned to the microwave, my arms wrapped over my generous breasts. I’d been lucky in the body department; I had a curvy figure with a big ass, a slim waist, and large breasts. I sometimes thought I looked like the women in those Rubenesque paintings, but then I’d tell myself I need to find exercises to pare down my big ass, as running every day just wasn’t doing it. Then, I walk away from the mirror and go back to my books and all my self-doubts and recriminations disappear.

I was a scholar, an academic, and law was my area of expertise. I was confident in the classroom and in every aspect of the law, but out in the real world—in the world of dating and sex—I mostly kept to myself.

“I’ll find a man when the time is right, Tony Mason, not a moment before.” I took the cardboard box of molten chicken alfredo with broccoli out of the microwave and set it on the table. “Now, let me enjoy my frozen-centered dinner and go away.”

I gave a wave of my hand and Tony laughed. “I love you, girl. Don’t ever change.”

“I love you too, now go do nasty things with dirty people. Just make sure you tell me all the gory details later!” I did love to hear his stories of seduction and lust, even if I didn’t have my own to share back.

“You know I will,” he called as he headed out of the door to drive away.

I’d met Tony a few years before at a local flea market as we bargained with a vendor over a rug. He kept offering more than I did, both of us laughing, and I finally caved, saying I didn’t have anywhere to put the handmade woven grass rug anyway. He’d looked at me and asked if I was homeless, and I told him about how I’d been staying in a ratty hotel when my student housing burned down one night. The university was doing all they could to re-house the other four girls I’d shared with, but nothing was happening fast. He’d told me about his house on one of the old Charleston streets, an inheritance from his grandmother, and we’d been roommates since.

I ate my crappy meal in silence and planned out the paper I needed to start writing. I was almost finished with my law degree. Tony barely charged me rent and my job at the library as a helper three days a week kept me in pocket money. My parents were paying for my education but I’d insisted on doing the rest on my own. My mom still tried to slip money into my bank account without me knowing about it, going to our local bank in Greenville to make a deposit every now and then, but I never asked for it. She thought I was still unaware of where the money came from, but I knew.

They were proud of their only child, and Mom used her earnings as a cardiologist to make sure I had a bright future. I paid them back by studying hard. Except for the time I missed when I contracted meningitis during an outbreak at the university, I spent all of my time studying. Now that I could see the finish line, I didn’t want to let up the pace.

Tony tempted me most days with tales of a new club he’d found, and the men and women that went to it. I’d almost caved a few times, but I’d found the will to turn it down. This redhead wanted her law degree, not a man! I’d provide for myself, and I’d never have to depend on anyone but me.

With a sigh, I went to my books, opened my laptop, and got back to work. An hour later I was making brownies, promising myself I’d run an extra two miles in the morning. It was going to be one of those long nights where I wished like hell I’d gone out with Tony, but some fudgy brownies would do the trick instead. Or so I told myself.

I flipped through the television channels as I waited, rolling my eyes at the garbage that passed for television now. I’d grown up watching stuff many would consider ancient, black and white television shows about witches and genies, stuff that had a plot, and some more modern shows but I hated reality television of any kind. Except for documentaries, and even those were driving me up the wall lately. Conjecture stated as fact, opinions given as proof, it just made me doubt the whole program so I usually just stopped watching.

I saw one of those dating programs, the kind where women vie for the attention of some billionaire, and had to fight the urge to pull a face. Those were so fake! How anyone believed they were real was beyond me. It was all fake, right down to the marriage that came later, the pregnancy, and then the divorce once the limelight was off the nationally loved couple. You couldn’t learn to love someone in just a matter of weeks, there was just no way.

I settled on a horror program about a town where the people went crazy one by one and the people try to avoid the madness, whilst waiting for my brownies to bake. I took a call from my mother, telling her about Mrs. Mallory’s gin-soaked plans, and listened to her as she told me about the neighbor’s cat using her new hot tub as a water bowl before it fell in. We talked about my classes and then she went off to make a cake for my father. We were a baking family, despite Mom being a cardiologist. We weren’t very good at taking doctor’s orders, obviously.

I went back to my paper and forgot about men, dating, and drunken passion. I had plans and they were focused on my law degree. I had to stay focused on that.

* * *

“Laney, have you seen Mrs. Mallory’s grandson from the front? If it lives up to the promise of the back I might just have to walk on over there and find out if he wants to see what my bedroom ceiling looks like.” Tony was standing at the sink, washing dishes in a rather distracted manner.

I walked up behind him to look out of the window but all I caught was a glimpse of the newly arrived grandson as he went down to his basement apartment. He’d moved in a few days ago but I still hadn’t met him. Mrs. Mallory was more than willing to set us up, but I’d been putting her off from the start. I knew she meant well, but the man was moving into his granny’s basement. He was probably already in debt up to his eyeballs or such a loner that we’d share an awkward date over a pizza while he told me about his video game character all night.

Ugh, no, I couldn’t deal with that kind of mess. Even if he did look good from the back.

“I haven’t seen him from the front, I’ve been too busy with that paper. Maybe you should ask his gran to set you up,” I said, hiding a grin behind my hand with a fake yawn. I turned away, the dazzle of the morning light hurting my eyes. He hadn’t looked too bad from the back, but I squashed that thought.

“Oh no, sweetie, that’s all about you. Tony don’t do blind dates. Not with this body.” He ran hands covered in brightly colored yellow gloves down his sides and flicked his head like he was tossing back long hair.

“You are a fine-looking man, baby. If only you weren’t gay!” We laughed, the inside joke being how so many women told him that.

“Have I ever told you I’m glad you’re just a nerd. A damn sexy one.” He paused to look me over in my yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt. “Even in that getup, but still a nerd. Which reminds me.”

He wandered over to the shelf where we put the mail every day and used a finger to push through the pile to find his. I saw him grin widely before he snatched an envelope up and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans. Tony gave me a wink as he went back to the dishes, his lips still smiling.

“Fun times ahead, so much fun.”

I gave him a puzzled look but didn’t ask. It was his business. Even if I did wonder what about my clothes reminded him he needed to check the mail.

“Well, I have to go to work so if you don’t need me for lusting after the neighbor anymore...” I let the sentence trail off, waiting for his response.

“Girl, get to work. I need some new shoes this week.” He gave me a wink to soften the words, and I gave him a slight hug and pecked his cheek before I went to change into more suitable attire.

“I’ll see you this evening then.”

I heard him chuckle as I left the room, and it made me wonder what he had up his sleeve. That gleam in his eye usually meant he had a plot afoot. Sometimes I was dragged into those plots kicking and screaming, but most of the time he’d go off and do whatever he was doing without me being any wiser. It kept our relationship fresh, what can I say? I never knew exactly what he was up to. He was my roommate and my best friend, not my boyfriend.

I went through my day finding research materials for students, logging books in and out, and even broke up a fight as two girls decided to fight over the same romance novel that it turned out we had several copies of, if they’d only asked. I drove home, my thoughts on a chilled glass of wine and a quiet story. I’d found this website where voice actors produced short stories, like the old-fashioned radio programs, and I listened to them almost every night now before bed. I found it soothing to listen as the readers got into the story and started really acting like the character as they spoke. It was good stuff to fall asleep to.

I knew Tony must be out before I even saw his car missing from the driveway, only the lamps were on throughout the house, the wall lights had all been left off. When I walked through the door I went through my normal routine, letting my hair down, kicking off my shoes and putting my purse down on the hall table, a masterpiece of reclaimed pine wood Tony had created from used pallets, and headed for the kitchen for that glass of wine.

There was already a wineglass on the kitchen island, with what looked a folded letter leaning against it. Curious, I picked it up. My heart started to race when I saw the letterhead... Dream Matchmakers. Tony wouldn’t, would he? He would never...

Oh my God!

He had! Tony had managed to get me on a television dating show. He was so going to have to die!