The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series (5 page)

“Welcome to FindLove.com,” Josie said. “I’ve already done a quick search for local men in our age range looking for casual dates. The results aren’t bad, really.”
 

She opened a window and tapped on a photo to enlarge it. “
Guapo
, no?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say handsome,” Delaney said.

Online dating?
What’s wrong with meeting guys at bars? Aren’t guys with online profiles usually creepy?
 

But her friends forged ahead. They leaned over the tablet, lips pursed in concentration.

“Oh, definitely not him,” Summer said. “Too much hair gel, for sure.”
 

“What’s wrong with hair gel?” Delaney asked.
 

“See? This is exactly what we’re worried about, Dee. Too much hair gel on a guy over thirty means he’s a prima donna. It means he doesn’t like his mother. It means he drives a nice car but wears holey underwear. It means he doesn’t want children.”
 

“You get all this from hair gel?”
 

“Oh yeah.”
 

“Ooh, look at this guy,” Josie said. “Very good-looking.”
 

“Get the details,” Summer said.
 

Josie tapped the tablet’s screen.
 

“Damn. He’s a consultant. Code for unemployed.”
 

“Seriously, you guys? Code for unemployed? How do you even
know
?”
 

“Again. Another example of why we’re doing this for you,” Summer said. “You’ve demonstrated previously–and you’re demonstrating now–that you don’t have an instinct for this stuff. Next.”
 

Apparently, Delaney had a lot to learn. During the ten minutes Summer and Josie spent scrolling through photos and profiles, Delaney realized that according to their standards for men, she was off. Not just slightly off, but way off.
 

Suddenly, Summer sat up straight, held up a finger and produced a pen from her purse, after setting a toy car, a length of rope and a dusty rock on the table. “We need a formal agreement, I think.”
 

Delaney Collins hereby agrees to relinquish control of her dating life to Summer Gray and Josefina Garcia
, she wrote on a bar napkin. She drew a line underneath, then handed Delaney the pen and pointed to the line.

“Sign, please.”
 

“Do I have to?”
 

“Yes,” Summer and Josie said at the same time.

Delaney tried to act like it didn’t hurt, but it did. She knew they loved her, she knew their intentions were good, but still… it was hard to identify the feeling. Probably it was mostly embarrassment, she decided and she’d have to let that go. After all, there were some very good-looking guys on this dating site. And she really could always go back to her own ways of doing things. She took a deep breath.
 

What can it hurt? At least it’ll be entertaining. When it doesn’t work, I’ll make a new fail-proof system
.

She signed. Once the ceremony was complete, Josie pulled her tablet close and began typing furiously on the touchscreen.
 

“First step: get you set up for online dating.”

“Don’t make that face, Dee,” Summer said. “Lots of people meet their mates online these days. Haven’t you seen those commercials?”
 

“Let’s set up her profile,” Summer said. “Then we can actually talk to these guys.”
 

They don’t even trust me to talk to guys online. What do they think of me?

Josie signaled to Benjamin, who hurried over.
 

“Benji, could you get Delaney another beer, please? She’s gonna need it.”
 

“Sure thing!”
 

Delaney rolled her eyes. The sales sharks were leaving Rowdy’s now, walking out single file. When had she gotten so old that these guys looked like babies? Smooth faces, trendy haircuts, white teeth. It hit her: she was thirty-four going on cat lady.

“Let’s see. Delaney, we’ll use your email address. What do you want for a password?”
 

“I don’t know. Make something up. I apparently make crappy decisions.”
 

“Oh, stop pouting,” Summer said. “I’m going to count to five and if you’re not done pouting, you can go pout alone in your bedroom.”
 

“Fine. Still, just make something up, Josie.”
 

“Okay. It’s going to be bigpenis, all lower case, all one word.”
 

“Fine,” Delaney said. “I can’t believe you still use that password.”
 

“It has a good security rating. Okay, here we go.” Josie sipped her drink. “Occupation.”
 

Josie looked nervously at Summer.
 

“That’s something else we wanted to talk to you about, Delaney,” Summer said.

Delaney groaned, Benjamin plunked her fresh beer down on the table and she picked it up and chugged it.
 

“You need a new job. It’s time to grow up. Bartending – I know it makes you a lot of money, especially on weekends, but it’s not serving you well.”
 

“Summer.” Delaney put the beer bottle down on the table. Hard. “Stop saying shit isn’t serving me well. I don’t even know what that means. It’s a job. I kick ass at it. I enjoy it. I make good money. Probably more money than Josie makes as a teacher. It’s serving me just fine.”
 

“She means emotionally,” Josie said. “She means you’re not stretching yourself. You have so much potential, Dee, you’re so smart. And you always said bartending was a good way to get through vet school – but now you’ve been out of vet school for almost a decade. It’s time to do something that really forces you to use your brain. Plus, this is where ninety percent of your dating pool comes from.” She swept her arm, nodded in the direction of the bar. “You always end up meeting bar guys.”
 

“Shit.”
 

It was true. She loved meeting bar guys. She loved hearing their stories, being the one to help them through difficult times. She didn’t need examples, but Summer plowed ahead just as she’d known she would.

“Case in point,” Summer said. “Tom, wasn’t it? He came in every night for a month. You thought he was so cute. So … what did you say? So
charming
. What kind of guy spends every single night of his life in a bar? You flirted with him, he flirted with you. You went home with him and he had swords all over his wall.”
 

“And metal signs talking about boobs,” Josie added.
 

“But what about that other guy, Javier?” Delaney said.

Summer rolled her eyes.

“You just thought he was sexy because he spoke Italian,” Josie said. “But remember he had a weird foot fetish? He wanted to lick your feet or something?”
 

“He wanted me to rub my feet on his –”
 

“Exactly,” Summer said, holding up a hand to stop Delaney. “Exactly.”
 

Josie entered Delaney’s height, weight, schooling, hobbies. The crowd at the bar went up in shouts and swear words, and Delaney’s eyes flicked to the TV screen to see what had happened in the basketball game.

“Okay, we’re almost done. It’s time to set the rules.”

“Rules?”
 

“Yes,” Summer and Josie said together. “Rules.”
 

“Did you guys practice this or something?”
 

Summer ignored her. “Of course, there’s the job thing. And you’re going to learn how to cook. You can’t eat takeout forever, babe. But let’s talk about the dating. First of all, you make no decisions on your own. We select the people you’ll date, we set up the dates and we decide who you can date again. No more of these dead-end, going-nowhere ‘relationships’ that start out as one-night stands and turn into one-year stands.”
 

“Enough with the air quotes,” Delaney said.

“And,” Josie chimed in as if Delaney hadn’t spoken, “No sex. With anyone. At all.”
 

Oh. My. God. There is absolutely no way this is happening.
 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ll implode from sexual frustration,” Delaney whined.

“We’ll lift the ban when we decide you’re ready,” Josie said. “But even then, no going home with anyone.”
 

Delaney took a breath to speak, but Summer cut her off.
 

“Who said you have to have sex at home?” Summer said sweetly. “Sarah was conceived at the drive-in. And Luke was conceived not fifteen feet from where we sit now.”
 

She pointed at the bathroom.
 

“I had no idea,” Delaney said wondrously.
 

“Oh, yeah,” Summer said. “In fact – never mind. Let’s finish this up.”
 

Delaney held up her index finger. “This doesn’t seem fair.”
 

“No decisions. We make them all.”
 

Josie added, “Besides, rushing into sex in a relationship is like wearing beer goggles everywhere you go. It makes everybody look better than they really are.”
 

“Fine.”
 

“Your drink limit: three.”
 

“Josie, seriously? Three?”
 

“Yep.”
 

“And you have to stop being so critical. Give these good guys a chance.”

“It’s totally weird,” Summer said, almost to herself. “You love the losers but tear the regular guys apart.” Again, before Delaney could defend herself, Summer went on, “One or both of us will be available by text at all times to answer your questions and direct you in your actions. You’ll have a schedule.”
 

“Really? A schedule.”
 

“Really. Josie has created a rubric, which you will fill out after each date. We will use this rubric to determine whether you see a guy again. Or whether you sleep with him. Did you bring that, Josie?”
 

“I have it on my computer. I’ll email it to you,” she said.
 

“By next week, we hope to have several dates set up – we’ll tell you about them during Happy Hour.”
 

“Also by next week,” Josie said, “we want you to report back to us about your job hunt. You should have created a resume and a cover letter and you should have applied for at least four positions. And you also should have signed up for a cooking class at Country Kitchen.”
 

“By next week?”
 

“Yep.”
 

“All the cooking classes are at night. And I work at night.”
 

“Not for long. Tomorrow, when you go in to work, you need to give your two weeks’ notice.”

“But what if I don’t find a job in the next two weeks?”

“You will. Put it out to the Universe.”
 

Josie chuckled at Delaney’s exasperated expression. “It works, Dee. Summer has me converted. I’m a believer. Remember that time my microwave broke and I needed a new one? I put it out to the Universe and voilà! I found one on that yard sale website the very next day. Five bucks.”
 

“Serendipity,” Delaney said.
 

“Exactly. Thanks to the Universe.”
 

“Okay,” Delaney said, reluctance drawing the word out. “But just in case. What if I don’t have a new job lined up? I’ll be homeless. You guys’ll have me out on the street?”
 

“You have savings. We’ll reassess after one week.”

“You can always move in with me,” Summer said. “And my four children.”

Desperate to change the direction of conversation, Delaney said, “I
can
cook.”
 

“What’s in your fridge right now?” Summer asked.
 

“Let me guess,” Josie said. “Jelly, moldy bell peppers and old butter.”

“Just because I don’t cook, doesn’t mean I can’t.”
 

“Invite us over for dinner,” Josie said.

“Over to my
house
?”

“Yes.”
 

“You need to start taking care of yourself,” Summer said. “Eating all that processed, salty food can’t be good for you. You’re not in college anymore.”
 

Delaney dropped her head to her forearm, which rested on the table. “Do I have no say in this?”
 

“Yes, you have no say,” Josie said.

“No say whatsoever,” Summer said. “Just trust us. You’re going to be happier than ever. And you’re going to thank us.”

“Yeah,” Josie said. “You’re going to worship us.”
 

“I need another drink,” Delaney muttered.
 

“Did I hear somebody say she needed another drink?”
 

“Benjamin. Impeccable timing, as always. Yes, please.”
 

He nodded, his black cowboy hat exaggerating the movement. Within a moment he brought, with a great deal of fanfare, a vodka cranberry for Josie, a glass of chardonnay for Summer and a Guinness for Delaney.
 

“Cheers to honesty and a change of subject,” Delaney said. “Let Happy Hour commence.”
 

“I never got to tell you, Summer. Tuesday after that asshole rear-ended us, when that guy pulled up with the license plate number? Jake Rhoades. Absolutely gorgeous. Rugged, tall, looked great in his jeans.”
 

“You didn’t get his number, though, because you don’t get guys’ numbers, right?” Josie said.

“It’s for the best,” Summer cut in, without waiting for Delaney’s answer. “We’re starting fresh.”

Delaney studied the tabletop again. Her best friends in the world thought she was a loser and maybe they were right. She was halfway through her fourth decade, working at a bar, neglecting her veterinary degree and dating greasy-haired leftovers. When she thought about it this way, she agreed that she needed a change. Just thinking about it was exhausting.
 

Delaney changed the subject, again. “What’s new with you guys, anyway? How’s your week been?”