The evening had everything I had planned: candlelight, wine and the promise of a deeper connection. But when my colleague burst through the door with her children in tow, the evening turned into an unexpected disaster and a truth for which I was unprepared.
The third date with Susan was supposed to be the one that broke the streak. We had met on Tinder: her profile was a perfect blend of witty banter and effortless beauty. After two great dates and a dreamy stroll in the park, I was ready to take it to the next level.
That night, I chose a cozy Italian restaurant away from the usual hustle and bustle. It was the perfect setting for soft candlelight and deep conversation over wine and pasta.
Susan arrived in a navy blue dress that hugged her figure perfectly, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She smiled, and I thought to myself, “Wow, this could be something.”
The waiter had just left a basket of fresh bread when the sound of the door opening caught my attention. At first, I ignored it. But then I heard a familiar voice.
“Hi, Rob! Good to see you here.”
I stood frozen as I picked up the loaf of bread. Standing in the doorway was, without a doubt, Linda from Accounts. Her bright floral dress clashed with the scene, but that wasn’t the real problem. No, the real, real problem was the three children clinging to her, each armed with noisy, sticky energy.
“Linda?” I managed to say, blinking.
She approached us with her children at our table. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight!” she said.
Susan’s confused gaze shifted between Linda and me. “Friend of yours?” she asked, sounding cautious.
“Colleague,” I corrected, a forced smile on my face as Linda sat her children on the chairs at our table.
“It’s full tonight,” said Linda, casually stealing a breadstick. ‘I thought we could join you. You don’t mind, do you?’
I did mind. I really did mind.
Linda had always been an enigma. A single mother of three children – aged two, eight and twelve – from two failed relationships, she was magnetic and intimidating in equal measure.
In the office, she drew attention with her sharp intellect and striking beauty, although she kept everyone at a distance. I admired her resilience, her devotion to her children and her ability to balance chaos with grace.
But that admiration was at a distance, strictly professional. Besides, a woman like Linda? She’s completely out of my league.
But tonight, when she sat down next to me with her children, her aura was not overwhelming, but suffocating. It was suffocating.
“Linda, what are you doing here?” I stammered, my voice low and my eyes fixed on Susan, whose confusion had quickly turned to annoyance.
“Don’t be silly,” Linda replied, casually placing her hand on mine. I instinctively pulled away. ‘You promised to look after the kids tonight, and here you are… having dinner with her.’ She nodded at Susan, as if she were an unwelcome guest.
Susan’s mouth fell open. ‘Excuse me?’ she said, her voice high-pitched.
Linda was unfazed. “I mean we’re a family,” she pointed to her children, who were now happily devouring the bread basket. “The kids were so excited to see you tonight!”
“Linda, I never promised…”
She interrupted me. ”Really, Rob? Are you going to pretend this isn’t a thing in front of her?”
“Pretend what is a thing?” demanded Susan, now standing, with a mixture of disbelief and fury on her face.
Linda shrugged and a smug smile crept across her face. ”I didn’t mean to ruin your date, Susan. But you should know the kind of man you’re seeing. He’s been cheating on me and the kids for months now.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What? Linda, that’s enough!” I hissed, looking around. Other diners were starting to take notice.
Susan picked up her purse. “It’s clear that they have… unfinished business,” she spat, looking at me as if I were something stuck to her shoe. She turned on her heel and stormed out.
I got up to follow her, but Linda’s youngest daughter, an adorable little girl, clung to my leg.
The restaurant fell silent.
I turned to Linda, my voice barely contained. “What are you doing? You’ve just ruined my date.”
She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, while her son happily nibbled on a breadstick. “You should thank me.”
“Thank you?” I muttered, growing angrier. “For what? For publicly humiliating me?”
Linda calmly took out her cell phone and swiped it with deliberate precision. ”No, for saving you.”
“Save me?“ I looked at her as if she had gone mad.
She turned the phone over and showed me an image. ‘Do you recognize this?”
I narrowed my eyes and looked at the screen. It was a grainy photo, but there was no doubt about the face: ’It’s… Susan. Why are you showing me this?”
“This,” said Linda, enlarging the photo, “is a mugshot.”
The words didn’t register at first. “A mugshot?”
Linda nodded, her expression grave. ‘My brother’s a cop. Last night I stopped by the station to drop off some papers for him. While I was there, I saw his face on the bulletin board. She’s wanted for fraud.”
“Fraud?’ I echoed, my brain struggling to keep up.
“Yes,” Linda continued. ”She’s been scamming men. She gets close to them, gains their trust, and then swindles them out of thousands of dollars. I didn’t put two and two together until I saw the photo you posted on Instagram before your date tonight. So I called my brother and… well, here we are. They’re probably detaining her as we speak.”
The room leaned in, or maybe it was just me. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not,” she said, softening her tone. “Look, Rob, I know this has been… a lot. But I couldn’t stand by and let him take advantage of you. You’re a good guy. You don’t deserve that.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The anger left me, replaced by something else: disbelief, confusion, maybe even gratitude. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why all this show?”
Linda sighed and looked at her children. “I tried to call you before your appointment, but you didn’t answer. And as soon as I saw you here, I panicked. I didn’t want her to get away from me. I did what I thought was best.”
I leaned back, rubbing my temples as the weight of her words settled. ”So… you’re saying that Susan has…”
“She’s gone,” Linda finished, her voice firm. ”And you’re welcome.”
I stared at her, my emotions in turmoil. If she was telling the truth, she might have saved me from disaster. But how had she done it? I wasn’t sure I could forgive her.
It hit me like a freight train. Susan, charming, witty and beautiful, was a con artist. And Linda, with her children and her bold and chaotic interruption, had just saved me from going straight to disaster.
The table fell silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. For a moment, I couldn’t look at Linda. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: gratitude, embarrassment and something else I couldn’t name.
Then her eldest son broke the silence, kicking his legs under the table. “Are we going to have pizza or what?”
I couldn’t help it: I burst out laughing. A real laugh, unfiltered, that seemed to cut through the tension in the room.
Linda smiled with satisfaction, leaning back in her chair. “You know, Rob, you should be thanking me right now.”
I shook my head, half amused, half exasperated. ”You’re amazing.”
She shrugged. “And yet here you are. Without having been swindled out of your life savings.”
As I looked at her, tired but radiant, with her children hanging on her every word, I felt something change. Linda wasn’t just the brave, mad woman who had burst into my evening; she was something more. She had saved me that night, but she had also shown me what I had been too blind to see.
“Linda,” I began, my voice firmer than I expected, ‘can I invite you to dinner? All of you.”
She blinked, clearly surprised. ’You want to invite us to dinner? After all this?”
“Yes,” I said, looking at the children. ‘I think they’ve earned it. And honestly… I could use the company.”
The oldest smiled. ’Pizza it is!”
Linda studied me and her expression softened. Then she smiled, a real and genuine smile that made something stir in my chest. ”Okay, Rob. But only if you pay for dessert too.”
“Deal,” I said, smiling.
Two years later, Linda and I are still together. I have adopted her children and every day they remind me what it means to love and be loved.
And Linda? She still insists that I should thank her for that night.
And every day I do.