I had been talking to Lily for a week before she suggested we go out. She was stunning—long auburn hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that looked like it belonged in a magazine. I didn’t think someone like her would be interested in me, but I figured I’d give it a shot.
She picked a fancy steakhouse downtown, the kind where valet tips are expected and the menu doesn’t show prices. I wanted to impress her, so I agreed.
From the start, something felt off. Lily barely looked at me, glued to her phone. Every few minutes, she’d text or pick up a call without even an apology.
Our waitress, Emily, came over, and Lily ordered without looking up, choosing a cocktail and a steak. I tried to make conversation, but Lily only hummed or barely acknowledged me. The food came, but she barely touched hers, still distracted by her phone.
Emily returned a few times, checking in with me, and I gave her a strained smile. Then Lily stepped outside to take another call, leaving me sitting alone. Emily came over again and asked if I was okay.
“Not really,” I said. “This is a disaster.”
She tilted her head. “Want me to help you out?”
I was confused. “What do you mean?”
Emily smirked. “I’ve seen this before. If you want, I can make it so you don’t have to deal with her.”
I was half-amused, half-embarrassed. “How?”
“Just give me five minutes,” she said.
Two minutes later, Lily came back, apologizing for “work stuff” and acting like nothing happened. But then, when the bill came, it turned out my card was “declined.” The manager insisted on holding my ID while I went to find a solution.
Lily just grabbed her purse and stormed out without a word.
Emily slid a slip of paper in front of me. The total? $0.00.
“I ‘accidentally’ comped your meal,” Emily said with a wink.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You really saved me.”
She shrugged. “I’ve seen this before.”
I smiled, feeling relieved. “I owe you one.”
She tapped the table. “How about a drink sometime? With someone who actually wants to be on a date with you.”
I looked at Emily—kind, beautiful, and thoughtful. “That sounds perfect.”
I slid my phone to her. She typed in her number, and I walked out of the restaurant, glancing at the street where Lily had disappeared. No hard feelings. Sometimes the wrong date leads you to the right person.
