“Grey Goose straight up with a twist of lemon, stirred,” she said.

“A woman who knows what she wants,” the server murmured to her cleavage. It took him another minute to force his eyes to Josh. “Sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have, um . . .” Josh fumbled with the menu. “The Apple Double Dutch?”

The server couldn’t keep from a slight eye roll. It was one of the more precious drinks on the menu. “Any food for you two?”

“We’ll have a charcuterie board, hon. Some meat, some cheese, you choose for us,” Cammie said, and Josh liked that she was bossy and friendly at the same time. The waiter drifted away, leaving them alone.

She smiled. Wow. Could he be attracted to her? She was certainly beautiful. Tall, curvy, great legs, confident. She also seemed nice. There was nothing not to like so far.

“So Josh, tell me about yourself, honey. Radley says you’re a good guy.”

“I’m a medical engineer.” Boring, hon, he could almost hear Lauren say.

“What does that mean?”

“I design medical devices.” Still boring.

“Like what? Like . . . I don’t know. Stethoscopes?”

“Well, those have already been designed, but yes.” He ran through some of his easier-to-describe devices—the needle that sensed blood flow, the chair for people with mobility issues.

“Oh, pissah!” she said, clapping her hands together. “I mean, that’s awesome, Josh. You must be wicked smart. My uncle Lou? He could use one of your chairs. My God, that man does not take care of himself. Diabetes, but does that stop him from drinking regular Coke all day and eating shit? No. It does not.”

Their drinks and food came, and the waiter smiled again at Cammie’s breasts. Josh took a swallow of his cocktail, which was really quite delicious.

Cammie took a delicate bite of cheese. “So tell me, Josh, how is a good-looking guy like you in need of a . . . whatchamacallit. A matchmaker.”

Here it came. It was still so hard to say. “My wife . . . died last winter.”

“Oh, fuck me. Hon, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” He took a big swallow of his drink, appreciating the warmth and floatiness that wafted through him. Girly drink or not, it was doing the trick.

Stay in the game, Josh. Don’t be a loser.

Cammie leaned forward and covered his hand with her own. Her eyes were impossibly blue. Blazingly blue. Did people still wear tinted contact lenses, or was she just blessed with actual turquoise eyes? “So you’re lonely,” she said.

Such a simple sentence. He felt himself getting choked up. Do not cry now, loser. Another swallow of the appley drink. He nodded, then shrugged, trying for a smile.

“Aw, honey, you poor baby. Of course you need a little guidance, then. Ease back into the dating scene. Radley was a hundred percent right in texting me.”