“So sorry I’m late. I got a little lost,” he said as he sat down on the stool across from me. “This is not my usual neighborhood.” He flashed me a movie-star smile, and I couldn’t help but notice that he might have gone a bit overboard with the Crest Whitestrips. I tried my best not to be distracted by how out of place he looked in the midst of the quaint bistro. He wasn’t kidding about being in the wrong neighborhood. Nearly everyone around us was dressed in casual spring attire. I was wearing indigo skinny jeans, a white boho blouse, and a floral-printed scarf. After nearly an hour of going through every item in my closet to find the perfect outfit that screamed sexy without trying too hard, I was now seated across from this glossy, gelled-up man who looked like he had just taken a detour from the fist-pumping electronic beats at Fuego De Vida.

After we ordered some refreshments—an iced green tea for me, a cup of coffee, straight black for him—Omar finally removed his shades. “It’s cozy in here,” he said, looking around. “This is a nice place for us to talk and get to know each other.” He hit me with another one of his blinding smiles, and I actually contemplated reaching over for his sunglasses for a split second.

“Well, I guess we have Hannah to thank for picking out a good spot. She’s convinced she has a future in this matchmaking business,” I joked.

Omar laughed. “So how long have you and Hannah been friends?” he asked.

“I’ve known her for about four years now. We met at a mutual friend’s dinner party a few weeks after I moved back to L.A. We dominated the night when we were teamed up for a game of charades, and we’ve been friends ever since.” I smiled. “You guys met in college, right?”

“Yeah, we sat next to each other in a business writing class that we had together during my second year of undergrad. I tried to flirt with her, but she was having none of it. I think I must have been a contributing factor to her changing majors.”

I laughed. “Well, she at least thinks you’re a pretty good catch, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so adamant about setting us up.”

“Well, I’m glad she was.” His centerfold smile flashed across his face. “But enough about Hannah. I’m more interested to know what you think about me.” He leaned across the table, and I had to hold my breath for a second as the thick, leathery scent of his cologne overwhelmed my nostrils.

“Um, I’m not quite sure,” I said as I slowly leaned back. “I don’t think I know you well enough yet, but why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?” I asked, steering the conversation back to him.

“Well, most people who know me would describe me as a very confident person,” he began, taking a sip of his coffee. “I believe it’s important to carry yourself in the way you want to be seen by others.”