Tinderella Read Online Free Page A

paused, "shall we have dinner?"

    "Sure, I'd like that, thank you."

    As they walked to their table Cyndi noted his clothing, nice shoes, no white socks, his pants fell at the right length, he had a nice butt. So far, so good.

    "I'm Ally, I'll be your waitress this evening, may I start you with an appetizer?"

    "We'll have the clams casino, as a starter, then the braised lamb shanks for dinner."

    Cyndi was so startled she didn't know what to say. Clams and lamb? At the same meal? And how did he know whether she liked them or not?

    "Um, I'm not sure," she started to interrupt.  

    "Well, I am, I've been here before, and those are their best two dishes. The chef and I are friends from way back, you'll enjoy it."

    "But clams and then..." she started, but he interrupted her again.

    "No, it's exactly right, you'll see."

    And from there, the date just went downhill. He told her about his sports career, starting with Little League and up through high school, where he sat on the bench for all of senior year. His love of snakes and spiders and his collections of photos of them. She was certain that the only thing creepier than photos would be specimens, and she was half waiting for him to pull one out of his pocket.  

    When it came time for dessert, Poe offered to split a piece of cake with her "We have to watch our figures don't we?"

    Cyndi stared at him in stunned silence. Had he just made a weight reference, on the first (and what would definitely be the only) date? She was already feeling vaguely ill from the dinner and appetizer combination but he didn't know that, surely she deserved her own piece of cake after this, "No, I don't think so, but thank you."

    "Oh, I insist, the chocolate cake here is to die for, and I know how you girls are about chocolate."

    "How us girls are?" Could this be any worse? Yes, she knew it could have been so she just focused on getting the hell out of there.  

    "I have to be at work early tomorrow, so if you don't mind, I'm going to have to decline. In fact I think I need to be going now."

    He looked at his watch, "Oh, it's early, stick around."

    "No, really, I don't think so."

    "I brought my cuffs," he whispered, leaning forward and almost dragging his tie through his dirty plate.

    "HUH?" she gasped.

    "My cuffs I brought them, you girls like that BSMD stuff, right?"

    "I think you mean BDSM, and no, no I don't think I do."

    "Oh, well," he sighed, "let me see, your half of the check..."

    Cyndi had practically stopped listening at this point, this was too much. Dutch? Really?  

    "Here," she said as she threw down some bills on the table, "this will more than cover my half, thanks, have a good night."

    "I'll call you!" he shouted cheerily after her.

    "Don't bother," she whispered under her breath as she hurried to her car. Pulling out her phone she texted Gooch right away, 'Never again for dinner, only for coffee. Worst date ever. Get out the ice cream.'

    Gooch laughed until her sides shook as Cyndi described her date.  

    "It's not funny you know, I'm never doing this again!"

    "Yes you are, you know you will. You have to kiss a lot of frogs.." she dissolved in laughter again.

    "Okay fine," Cyndi said "but I am done with dinner dates. To think I shaved my legs for that. I'll never get that time back you know?"

    "Save it for your book, girl."

    "I'm not writing a book, thanks."

    "Well, maybe you should consider it, that was hilarious."

    "Coffee, just coffee and a well planned escape route from now on."

    "Good, great actually. Give me your phone, we're going to do this again."

    "NO! Not tonight!"

    "Yep," said Gooch digging in Cyndi's bag for her phone. "Gotta get right back on that horse, c'mon, let's get swiping."

    Twenty-five minutes later, Gooch held the phone up in the air like the Lion King holding Simba, "We've got a winner here! You're going to love this one, just you wait and see."

"I'm not getting married, so shut up and stop telling me how much I'm going to