“Everyone practices,” Emma said. “On my last date, I practiced for three days how I was going to tell the story about the time my cat ate my passport two days before my trip. You know what happened?”

“What?”

“The man was allergic to cats and scared of airplanes. Two forbidden topics at once.” Emma threw her hands up. “I sat there like, ‘So… do you like plants?’ It was awful.”

Christopher was laughing so hard he was starting to draw attention from nearby tables.

“Okay, okay, you win. Dating is terrible for everyone.”

“Exactly. But being stood up on Christmas Eve…” Emma shook her head. “That deserves a medal. Like a medal for the worst timing in the universe. They should hold a ceremony.”

“Thank you, that makes me feel so much better,” Christopher said dryly.

“You’re welcome. That’s why I’m here.” Emma smiled. “Listen, let me tell you the truth. Any woman who leaves you waiting for an hour and twenty minutes on Christmas Eve doesn’t deserve your time, your money, or that crooked little smile you’re trying to hide.”

“I don’t have a crooked smile.”