She was standing at the kitchen counter making herself a tuna-salad-and-cream-cheese sandwich on white bread, with a side of ice cream, something the old Nikki never would have eaten. “Hey, Nik, you’ll never guess what I saw in the New Chapel News this morning.” “Oh, I don’t know—news?” “Ha. Funny. Try an ad for a speed-dating event.” I held the newspaper ad in front of her. “See? Listen to this: ‘Meet your dream date and you’ll be on cloud nine. Register today for the Cloud Nine Date Night event. Nine dates, nine minutes. If you don’t meet at least one person you’d like to see again, come to the next event for free.’ ” “It’s being held in Maraville,” she said with a scoff. “So? That’s a mere forty minutes away. Come on, Nik. It’s a win-win situation.” She ran her index finger down the flat side of the knife, then licked the cream cheese off her fingertip. “No way.” “Why not?” “Because I’m horrible at picking out guys. Look at my track record.
