The Blind Date

by Landish, Lauren

  “Ladies, ladies . . . there’s plenty of Viktor to go around,” he tells them both, looking mighty pleased with himself.

  Arielle rolls her eyes. “On that note, we’ll let you get to work. Let me know if I can do anything.”

  “I will,” I tell her. “Oh, and Arielle . . . thank you. For everything.”

  She smiles, but as she ends the Zoom call, I hear her telling everyone, “No, we cannot play hopscotch in the yard. I don’t care how much fun it was when you were a kid. You’ll break a hip!”

  I laugh for a second, feeling better than I have since the fight with Noah. How could I have ever doubted how good the world is? I mean, I have so much. I have friends who care for me, who lift me up when I need it. I have nice people like the old folks at Arielle’s senior center who share wisdom and love with me. I have family, and a dog, and all of the things that I wanted when I was a little girl.

  And I might still have a boyfriend.

  Why should I complain about a gossip blog or even what a few people online have to say? I have my fans, and I care about them.

  I do care.

  What do I do with that?

  I lean back in my chair, thinking and considering. The Crew gave me a lot to mull over. Noah’s words hit right to my gut, and even some of the negative comments have value, showing me where I could’ve done better.

  To fix this, I need a plan. I think of calling Noah because planning is his superpower, but Riley Sunshine is my creation, my life. I’m going to do this on my own, I decide.

  I take a deep breath, reach my arms up high overhead, and wiggle my whole body. I need to get out the nerves, the fear, and the insecurity because I’m about to do something I’ve never done before.

  I don’t check my hair or makeup. I haven’t even brushed my teeth, and I’m still wearing the T-shirt and jeans that Eli and Arielle karaoke-napped me in.

  But I turn on the ring light on my desk, set up my microphone, and look directly into the camera as I turn it on and hit Record.

  I start by giving a Sunshine Salute.

  “Hello, my Sunshiners! Riley here,” I begin before letting my voice become more serious. “First off, this isn’t going to be one of my usual videos, but I’d like to talk with everyone about a few things, if you don’t mind listening.”

  I swallow thickly, digging deep for strength.

  “A long time ago, I began sharing my life as Riley Sunshine to spread a little joy in the world. I wanted to encourage people to see the good in their everyday lives. Maybe even create some good to share it with others. And we’ve done that. I want to keep doing that with you. Because you matter to me, each and every one of you.”

  “I read your comments, reply to your messages, and celebrate your joys right along with you. In a lot of ways, you’re my friends because I invite you into my life the way you invite me into yours. I do my best to share things I think will inspire you, or make you laugh, or that you’ll find interesting. But what I haven’t done is something I’ve always prided myself on . . . be real.”

  “It’s not that I was hiding anything or faking it. But like a lot of us, I didn’t want to expose my vulnerabilities. Like now . . .” I gesture to myself, seeing how I look in the camera’s eye. “My hair . . . dirty bedhead. I have no makeup on because I’ve cried it all off. My friends dragged me out last night to make me feel better, so I’ve got fried mushroom farts and a hangover from a drink nearly the size of a water pitcher. And I had two of them. That’s the truth.”

  I’m on a roll, the words coming easier and faster as I speak from the heart with no filter, no worries over how it’ll be taken, and no pressure to put a positive spin on everything.

  “More truth? You see snippets of my day, but a lot of my time is spent sitting at my computer for hours on end with only Raffy to keep me company. I suspect a lot of you can relate to that. It makes meeting people difficult and forging those deep, meaningful personal connections that make a good life into something great even harder. So yes, I used a dating app, and I met someone wonderful. He’s smart and kind, funny and sexy, and all those things I said in my posts. That is real.”

  I only hope I can still fix things with him. I don’t say that part, not because I’m hiding it but because that’s between Noah and me.

  “And the truth is that people who use dating apps often just have a busy life, and you’re optimistic that someone’s out there for you. What can be more Sunshine than that?”

  I pause and look directly into the camera. “But I was scared, afraid I wasn’t enough, worried you wouldn’t see me as Riley Sunshine if I admitted that things aren’t always sunshiny and that sometimes, I’m lonely. I thought you’d see me as less of the Riley Sunshine you expect and everything we’ve built together would disintegrate. Selfishly, I didn’t want that to happen, and so I wasn’t the me I should’ve been. I said something stupid and hurtful, and I’m sorry for that. To all my Sunshiners, I am sorry. To the people I insulted, I’m sorry.”

  It won’t be enough for some people, no matter what. But a heartfelt apology is all I can offer right now. I have to hope that momentary words plus future actions that show how much I mean it will be enough.

  “Someone wise told me that you need some rain to appreciate the sunshine. I guess I thought if I could pretend there was no rain and focus on only the positive, I’d be better off. But I think they were right. So I’m going to celebrate the rain too, jump in the puddles, let it run over me in rivulets that make me look and feel like a drowned rat, and live through it. Because it’ll make the sunshine feel that much better. I promise that I will do my best to be honest, real, and authentic with you. I’m going to share the great, the good, and the bad.”

  “So, what now?” I ask them and myself. “I’m going to keep doing my job—sharing my life with you and hoping that we can share a little sunshine with the world. But first, I have some apologizing to do. I’m new at relationships—like, Moonlight Mark is the first guy I’ve ever loved sort of new—so I’m gonna mess up. But I’m going to learn and do better. He deserves that, and you know what? I do too.”

  I shrug, plunging ahead. “And so do you. Learn something today—about yourself, about someone else, or about . . . I don’t know, weird animal facts or whatever interests you. Maybe it’s even this video, learning something about me, that I’m a real person who has a positive outlook but struggles too. I’d love to learn about you, too, the real you, if you’ll keep sharing with me.”

  I give the camera another Sunshine Salute and smile, then click off, and I quickly upload it with the simple caption of A message to all my Sunshiners. Love, Riley.

  Now I just have one more thing I need to do . . . have that conversation with Noah.

  Raffy barks, and I realize I do have other things to do. Like take my doggy for a walk so he can pee.

  Chapter 27

  Noah

  N: I’m on my way over. Can we talk?

  R: Yes! See you soon.

  It was all I could do to not pour my heart out in the text I sent Riley today. It’s easier when it’s words on a screen somehow. But I don’t want or need easy. I want Riley.

  I know she’s had a shitty twenty-four hours—from our fight to what Arielle tells me was a rough karaoke outing, to the gossipy social media stuff. I hate that I haven’t been by her side to help deal with it. Not that she needed me. She made that video post like the badass she is, sunshine and all. But I still want to support her.

  And apologize. Because none of this ever would’ve happened if I’d had a regular conversation with Riley about the opportunity of a BlindDate sponsorship and reacted better when she said no. Those are my responsibilities in this argument. Riley has her own, and I hope she’s ready to talk about those too.

  Sunshine. Moonlight.

  She’s the brightness that’s burst through my chronic asshole-itis.

  But she could reject me and my apology, decide I’m not worth the energy and effort if all I’m going to do is walk away. />
  No. Stop, I tell myself.

  Those are not my feelings for Riley talking. Those are my fears from my childhood whispering in my mind, and I need to get beyond them if I’m going to be the man Riley deserves. So I take a deep breath and knock on her door, a little smile coming to my lips when I hear Raffy start barking.

  “Raffy, hush!” Riley says on the other side of the door. “I got this!”

  Raffy runs away, his nails sounding further and further away, and I wonder if Riley tossed him a snack to give her the space to open up. Probably. Food bribes work best with him.

  The door opens, and my heart stops in my chest.

  She’s so beautiful. So mine. I refuse to accept any other ending to this conversation.

  Riley is wearing a blue dress that flares around her mid-thigh, her knee-high yellow socks, and yes, her white Doc Martens boots. There’s nothing about her outfit that says ‘usual’ or ‘standard’, and I suspect some people might even find it costume like. To me, it screams ‘Riley’ and all the things that make her uniquely who she is, and that’s what makes it so perfect on her.

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her, my hands itching to hold her and my mouth watering to taste her. It hasn’t been long by way of a clock, but so much has happened, I feel like I’ve missed her with every cell in my body.

  “Noah . . .” The longing is laced through the breathiness as she says my name. I think she’s missed me too, maybe even been just as paralyzed by fear as I’ve been. “Thank you. Come in.”

  She holds the door wider, letting me pass her and enter into the living room.

  “Do you want something to drink? I have . . . uhm, water or wine or . . .” Her words trail off like she doesn’t know what’s in her own refrigerator.

  “You don’t have to play hostess.”

  A tiny smile ghosts across her lips as she ducks her gaze to the floor. “I’m nervous,” she admits.

  “Me too.” My own confession brings her eyes to mine. “Let’s sit down and talk. I think we both have a lot to say.”

  We sit on the couch, a chasm yawning wide in the small foot of space between us.

  “I’m sorry,” Riley blurts out, surprising me.

  I planned to go first. But the change in plans doesn’t bother me the way it once would. I can adapt now. Riley taught me how to do that.

  “I’m sorry too,” I say. “I love you.”

  “Oh, my God, I love you too!” Riley exclaims. She throws herself at me, arms going around my neck in a tight hug with her head on my shoulder. It’s not heated, not a precursor to make-up sex. It’s simply relief and reassurance that this is real.

  My hands wrap around her waist, and I hug her back just as tightly. I need to feel her against me, know that we’re going to repair the damage we’ve both done.

  Words fail me, and I just hold her for a long minute until I feel a wet nose pushing against my ankle. I look down to see Raffy nosing at my pants leg. “Rowf!”

  “I missed you too. Who’s my good boy?” I ask when Raffy shoves his way between our legs. I pet his head, scratching behind his ears before I tell him, “Let me talk to your mama for a few minutes, okay?”

  He licks my hand affectionately, and Riley pets him absently too.

  “Can we start over?” I ask when we meet eyes again. Riley nods, letting me speak. I gather my thoughts, all the practiced bits of speech that’ve been rolling through my mind all day. “We have a lot to unpack, but . . . I shouldn’t have sprung the whole BlindDate sponsorship on you like that. When Elisa first mentioned it, my automatic answer was no. I want you to know that.” Riley looks understanding, so I continue.

  “But the more she talked about it, the better it sounded. BlindDate has been my focus for a long time now. I’ve put my heart and soul, blood, sweat, and tears into that app, all with the hope that with it, I would make something of myself while also helping people make connections. It means a lot to me. Fuck, until recently, BlindDate has meant everything to me. But I only wanted you to consider Elisa’s offer. I never wanted to pressure you. I know what Riley Sunshine means to you and how hard you’ve worked to create it from the ground up. It just seemed like the deal might be good for us both, and I got excited.”

  “I do know how much BlindDate means to you, Noah,” Riley says as she takes my hands. “I didn’t mean to insult you or your work. I don’t think dating apps are for losers or anything awful like that. I should’ve never thought that, much less said it. It was my insecurity speaking—no, screaming at me—inside my heart.”

  “I shouldn’t have walked away. No matter what you said or I said, that is something I said I’d never do. I won’t be like my dad, Riley. I promise you that.” The vow is weighted with significance, and I press my lips to the back of Riley’s hand to seal that promise.

  “You’re nothing like him. He walked out and kept on walking, leaving behind his responsibilities and commitments without a look back. We had a fight, and even if you walked away for a moment, you’re showing up now to do the hardest work of all, to take responsibility, talk through the hard stuff, and forgive me for my mistakes too. You are nothing like your dad, Noah. I don’t even know him, but I know that. You are a good man.”

  “That’s one I haven’t heard. I think most people see me as a cold, driven, workaholic asshole. Only you see me as good. But you see everything, everyone that way. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

  Riley’s lips twist. “I’ve been doing some thinking on that too. I got so caught up in Riley Sunshine, that image of positivity, that I tried to maintain it at any cost. And the truth is . . . sometimes I’m lonely, or angry, or judgmental, and I shouldn’t gloss over that, pretending it doesn’t happen in favor of some false reality that doesn’t exist.”

  She squirms like the words are trying to wiggle their way out of her. “My fear overwhelmed me. Fear that you were using me . . . because I’ve had people try to befriend Riley Sunshine to benefit themselves. Fear that people would judge me for not being perfect. Fear that by needing help, I wasn’t good enough to be a positive influence for other people.”

  “But you burst through that fear. I’ve seen the video of you talking to your followers and read a lot of the comments today. You took on the naysayers and turned the tables on them.”

  “You watched the apology video?” she asks uncertainly.

  “You did say you’re sorry, but what I watched was a rebirth of Riley Sunshine, a better, more real you. That’s what I saw,” I reassure her.

  Her smile is soft, blooming in millimeters until it’s her full-wattage one that blinds me with its beauty. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Did we do it?” I tease, lighter now that we both seem to have said what’s been weighing on our hearts. “Did we have a conversation about how we fucked up and how we’re going to do better?”

  “I think we did,” she says with a quiet giggle. “I want you to know that I’m always going to be positive and perky, with a big dose of sunshine. But I’ll be real about things too. I’ll share with you, not push down anything negative and pretend it doesn’t exist.”

  “Good. I want you . . . Riley Watson, not Riley Sunshine. Though she’s pretty hot.” I let my eyes trace down her body, hoping she can feel the weight of my gaze. “And I’m still going to be an asshole who works too much. But I’ll find a balance so you never have to worry where my priorities lie. Because you are my number-one priority, always.”

  “I promise to trust you so that even when your fears are at their biggest and you need a minute, I’ll know that you’ll come back to me. And I’ll remind you that you are bigger, stronger, better than the doubts whispering to you.”

  Her fingers dance along my thigh, moving higher with every vow so I don’t want to stop. I’ll bare my whole soul, from the ugliest recesses to the shiniest corners, if she’ll keep touching me.

  “I promise to let your sunshine warm me, inspire me, and help me see good in the world. I’ll create goodness too, fo
llowing your example of love, generosity, and joy. I promise to love you, Riley.”

  That’s what it all boils down to. We’ve gotten through this, but we’re both going to mess up again. We’re human, and we make mistakes. But the most important thing I want Riley to always know, down to her soul, is that I love her.

  “I love you too, Noah.”

  The silence stretches between us, and Riley smiles. “You know, those sounded a lot like vows.”

  “Maybe,” I admit, nodding. “I think more people should make promises to each other. Clear ones like goals or mission statements.”

  Riley’s brows jump up her forehead and then she laughs. “You were so close, and then had to go call our sweet words goals? Mission statements? How romantic.”

  I laugh, shrugging as we fall deeper into the couch. “I am who I am.” I gather her into my arms, nuzzling and kissing the sensitive skin of her neck. “You want romance? How about if I take you to your bedroom and make love to you all night?”

  “Mmm,” Riley moans. “I have a better idea . . . let’s go to my bedroom and fuck. I want to feel you all over me, inside me. I need you, Noah.” She’s gone quiet, breathy with the naughty words she loves but struggles to say.

  Luckily for her, I don’t struggle with them at all.

  “I can do that,” I promise her, leading her to the bedroom. I feel like I’m walking on a cloud, and I need her too. The fire inside me is so high that as soon as the door to her bedroom closes, I push her against it, consuming her mouth with a hungry kiss.

  I reach for my tie, loosening it and then pulling my clothes off as I tell Riley, “Strip.”

  She does as I order, removing her boots and socks before dropping the dress to the floor. She stands boldly before me in a black bra and panty set that has metallic gold suns and silver moons on it. “Did you wear this for me?” I ask huskily, giving my cock a slow stroke.

  She nods as I trace the line where the silky material meets her breast with my other hand. “Beautiful, baby. But take it off.”