Kevin and I met through FindLoveOnline. Yeah sure…judge me, but how else am I supposed to meet men? At the grocery store? Get real. That shit only happens in books and sitcoms. Initially when we made plans for tonight, he offered to pick me up, but I declined and offered to meet him there, for two reasons.

One: the last time a date picked me up from my apartment, my overprotective brother—who’s a cop, in case I forgot to mention—had his buddy run his tags and check him out. A gross misuse of power, if you ask me. Then again, homeboy ended up having a warrant out for his arrest. Turns out Paul liked to deal pot to high schoolers on his off days.

Which leads me to reason numero dos: Paul the pot dealer. He was a mega wake-up call for me. These dudes have no business knowing where I live, and I was incredibly naive to not suggest meeting them from the start—especially with Tatum.

I realize this makes it sound like I’m going out with random men nightly, so let me set the record straight—I go out once a month, if that! Between working at the café, my online classes, and my sweet Tater Tot…well, let’s just say I’m busy as fuck. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even on the most stressful days—you know the kind…

You wake and you’re out of coffee, your kid’s favorite sippy cup is M.I.A., your car doesn’t want to start, you manage to grab a coffee at the Circle K only to spill it on your shirt, aforementioned kid has the meltdown to end all meltdowns in the middle of the store, and by the time you finally make it home, the only thing that sounds good for dinner is half a bottle of wine, but you have to cook. Can’t feed your toddler fermented grape juice for dinner—pretty sure that is heavily frowned up, not to mention illegal.

But even on the most hellacious of days, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, maybe one thing…it’d be nice for Tatum’s dad to know she exists, but that’s a story for a different day. Thinking of Alden always makes me melancholy, and that’s definitely not the right mindset for a first date.

Finding somewhere to park ends up taking longer than the drive over. After looping the block four times, I finally manage to snag a spot about half a block from South Bay Kitchen—the eatery we’re meeting at. When Kevin suggested we eat here, I immediately said yes, as it’s an absolute favorite of mine. Their chef uses only the best local ingredients and breathes new life into longstanding traditional Southern dishes.

The second I exit my car, the balmy late summer heat and humidity envelopes me, causing a fine sheen of sweat to dot my hairline. It’s beyond gross…but that’s the price you pay to live below the Mason Dixon line.

By the time I make it to the restaurant, I can feel little beads of sweat sliding down my spine. I pause outside of the entrance and fish my compact out of my purse. I use the powder puff to dab at my nose before swiping another coat of gloss over my lips.

I step into the dimly lit space; the aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling herbs and spices fill my nostrils. On cue, my mouth waters. “Hello and welcome to South Bay Kitchen,” the hostess greets me. “How many?”

Rising to my tippy toes, I glance over her shoulder into the dining area. “I’m actually meeting someone. We should have had reservations under the name Kevin.”

She offers me a sympathetic smile before bending her head to scan her reservation book. “Yes, and it looks like he’s already seated.” She steps out from behind the podium. “If you’ll follow me.”

Zigzagging through the maze of tables, she leads me to a small two-top toward the back near the bar. “Here you go.”

Kevin stands upon our arrival and…holy ba-jeezus, this man looks nothing like his picture online. I was expecting a good-looking man with tanned skin, blond hair, and startling blue eyes, who stands over six-foot-two.

What I’m met with is a balding man old enough to be my father with leathery skin. The only thing that matches is his eye color. Oh, my god—have I been catfished? Is that what is happening right now?

“Uh. Hello. I’m Natalie.”

He flicks the tip of his tongue over his front teeth. “Phil.” He shakes my hand and I cringe at the clamminess of his skin. “And, toots, the pleasure’s all mine.”

It’s all I can do to suppress my gag. “You’re not Kevin?”

He chortles. “Kevin couldn’t make it tonight, so I came in his place. It’s almost the same thing—the kid’s a real chip off the old block.”

I gasp and my stomach turns. “So…you’re his…dad?”

“In the flesh.” He grins, flashing me his dentures.

Oh, hell no. Thank God I never had time to sit. Without another word, I turn and walk right back out the way I came. What a sleaze. And who in God’s name sends their dad as a stand-in on a first date?

Gross!

I drive around for a good half hour to pass the time. I know if I come this early, Nate will pester me with questions about Kevin-Phil. And, I’m in no mood to deal with that.