"What's been your worst date so far?" Dalma began the conversation, glancing up from the menu for a moment.

The question visibly took Peter aback.

"The worst?" he repeated, flipping through the menu himself.

The waitress moved between the empty restaurant's chairs gracefully, as if she were floating. The soft glow of the candle on their table cast a warm light, creating a cozy atmosphere. She arrived so quietly that Peter jumped when asked, "Have you made your decision?" He hit his knee loudly on the table.

Dalma also flinched, but because of the sudden knock on the table.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the blonde beauty apologized, lightly touching Peter's shoulder.

Dalma found the waitress's overly familiar tone strange. Still, she couldn't help but be amused by Peter's awkwardness. She decided to play along, even as he rubbed his knee and grimaced, signaling that the touch was fine.

"Should I come back later?"

"No... I'll have a draft beer."

"The usual pint, right?" Without waiting for a response, she turned to Dalma. "And for the lady, what can I bring you?"

"A glass of wine, preferably white."

"I'll check what we have. I'll bring the drinks, and then you can order your food."

Dalma laughed out loud but noticed Peter didn't seem to catch how oddly the waitress behaved.

"Do you come here often?" she asked.

"Here? No, not really."

"Then why does the waitress know your usual drink? I'm quite curious to see what kind of wine she brings. She didn't even ask what kind I wanted."

"You said white, didn't you?"

Dalma rested her face in her hands, frowning as she tried to piece together the strange picture: Maybe there was no problem, her imagination tricked her.

"Can you recommend something worth eating here?" she asked, not minding that Peter gestured toward the menu before her. He didn't move a muscle, just smiled, so Peter responded instead.

"The burger's good, and the gyros isn't bad either."

"So, burger then, beef?"

"Oh damn, you're a vegetarian, and there's no meat-free option here... I just remembered! I'm sorry, I forgot, even though we always have lunch together at work."

"It's no problem; I'll just have some fries with cheese and a small salad. But hey, why did you bring me here?"

Peter seemed embarrassed, even blushing a little, but fortunately, the waitress appeared with a beer and a glass of white wine. She set them down in the middle of the table, then pulled a notepad and pencil from her back pocket.

"Have you decided?"

"Yes, I'll have a large jalapeno burger with sweet potato fries."

"Alright, and for the lady?"

"I'll take a gyro without the meat. Is that possible?"

"You mean, take the meat out?"

"I mean, don't put the meat in at all. Just fries with cheese, dressing, and salad."

"Okay, got it, but I can't deduct the meat from the price, so you'll have to pay the full amount."

Dalma continued resting her head on her hands, shaking it slightly as if trying to shoo away the annoying waitress.

"That'll be fine, thank you," she finally replied.

The waitress left, and an awkward silence settled over them. Both reached for their drinks and took a sip. Dalma suddenly remembered what they had been talking about.

"So?"

"So what?" Peter asked, confused.

"What was your worst date?" Dalma prodded, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, I thought you'd forgotten about that silly topic. Let's see. If I think about it, I haven't had a lousy date yet.

"Yet?"

"Well, I met Judit back in high school. We moved in together and got married. I skipped the whole dating scene in my life. Since we broke up, this is the first time I've asked someone out."

"Oh, I'm honored. When did you break up?"

"It's been almost a year since we got divorced."

"You didn't mention that. Do you know how lucky you are to have had such a long relationship? When I think about all the pointless dates I've been on that led nowhere..."

"I wouldn't call it lucky. Here I am, thirty years old. I should be starting a family, having kids, a house, and a dog, but instead, I'm living in a rental, having Sunday lunches at my mom's place. It's all a mess."

"I could say the same." She took another sip of the wine, but it didn't taste perfect, and she couldn't figure out what kind it was. It tasted almost like vinegar. She grimaced at the sourness and then continued:

"Shall I tell you about my worst date?"

Peter leaned back in his chair, laughing, showing his perfect teeth, which always gave Dalma a slight shiver. She loved his laugh. It had something mischievous, almost naughty, about it. She had never chosen the right man; she always fell for the troubled ones but quickly brushed away that thought.

"I see you don't want to change the subject. Okay, let's hear about this terrible date."

Dalma also leaned back comfortably in her chair and picked up the glass of wine but decided to play with it, swirling it around, not wanting to drink anymore. Then she began:

"I went through a phase where I looked for guys on dating apps. Awful guys on there. I only met one in person. Unfortunately, I don't remember his name, but we had some good conversations, shared interests, and all that, so on Valentine's Day, he suggested we meet."

"That sounds quite romantic so far," Peter said, sipping his beer.

A family with two kids entered the restaurant, loudly choosing a table. Dalma continued:

"Wait for it! So, we arranged to meet for dessert at that famous pastry shop with those amazing cream pastries. He even brought a rose; I was over the moon. Then he told me he had bought the rose for another girl, but she canceled their date, so he invited me instead so the flower wouldn't go to waste."

"What a jerk!" Peter exclaimed. "I hope you left him then and there!"

"I should have, but I was so stunned, and besides, I've never had much confidence. I was just happy that the guy asked me out. I'm terrible, right?"

"You've got no reason to lack confidence. I think you're a nice girl and pretty, too."

The waitress appeared with two plates, set them down without a word, and moved toward the new guests, greeting them like old friends. Without looking up, Peter started eating:

"So, how was the cream pastry? I've never tried it; I just heard about it. Was it worth staying?"

"Yes, the pastry was delicious. As for the guy, we talked a bit more, then went our separate ways. He never contacted me again, and I didn't write to him either. I stopped using dating apps altogether. The worst part was the journey home, holding a rose that wasn't even meant for me, on Valentine's Day, no less."

Dalma began eating, too. The fries were cold and greasy.

"You know what? You win," Peter said, laughing. "That was a terrible date."

"Yes, that's been the worst one so far." Dalma glanced at the waitress, then added:

"So, you like slimmer girls? Is that why you didn't check out the waitress?"

"Who?" Peter looked up, confused. "Oh, I've never been into women with large chests, if that's what you mean. But can we change the subject?"

"Okay. Tell me about your ex-wife. Why did you break up?"

The man wiped his sauce-covered chin, frowning.

"Where to start? The problems began when she got involved with her boss. That's the short version."

"That's a good reason and a story well told. But I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

At that moment, a man from the other table stood and walked toward them, then slapped Peter on the shoulder.

"Peter, what are you doing here? I didn't know you came to this place! Hi there!" – they shook hands.

"Hey! What a surprise! She is my colleague, Dalma," he gestured towards the woman and then continued, "I wouldn't say I come here regularly; we just ended up here by chance."

"I'm glad you and Judit split so amicably, and you can still talk," he nodded toward the waitress, "but I won't bother you. Have fun."

He waved at Dalma and returned to his table, where the others smiled and waved at them. Peter fidgeted awkwardly, looking for Dalma's gaze, while she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and then grimaced, pressing her mouth to a napkin.

"I'd rather not ask anything," Dalma finally said.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to deceive you or anything like that. I didn't want to hurt you; it's how things turned out."

"So, will you tell me what's happening, or should I start guessing?"

"You see, it's possible that I still love Judit, my ex. I tried to be nice to her and to reach out, but she took all my attempts as harassment. And she started telling all our mutual friends this. Honestly, I just wanted her to see that I didn't mean it that way, that my approach was just friendly. So, I thought it might be good if she saw I was with someone..."

"Me? You mean this is a fake date?"

"I like you, and I didn't want to hurt you, you know that, right? You're a great person, easy to talk to, and we get along at work. That's why I thought of inviting you, but I didn't think I'd get caught like this. I'm sorry..."

"Well, that's nice... And what do you expect from me, to pretend to be your girlfriend? So your ex-wife will get jealous?"

"I'd appreciate it. I'll pay for the bill, okay?"

Dalma looked at the waitress, and their eyes met. She felt the other woman was jealous, making her feel better. But why? Here we go, another terrible date, and it might just become her worst one yet.

"Alright," Dalma said, "let's pretend we're dating. If you pay for my taxi home, you can kiss me now."

She propped herself up on her elbows and leaned her upper body forward. Peter glanced over at the counter, then kissed Dalma. The kiss was more like a peck, but Dalma smiled cheerfully.

"Ask for the bill, and let's end this awful date."

Dalma played her role perfectly, flirting and smiling while they were still in the restaurant. They said goodbye outside when the taxi arrived, and Dalma couldn't shake the feeling that she would never fall in love again. She'd had enough. Was it her bad karma? Or her choices?

She sank into the taxi seat and didn't even notice how Peter watched her for a long time in confusion. 

The end