I invited a man over before I was ready, still in my dressing gown with a pile of potatoes to peel. When he arrived, I let him in, then dashed to change. Emerging, I found him peeling potatoes in the kitchen—a charming sight. After dinner, we strolled, laughing, him gallantly offering his arm and buying me a bouquet. In the shop, he was a perfect gentleman. Later, he set the table with flair, but a harsh call to his mother revealed a hidden temper. Shocked, I made an excuse about a friend’s emergency and ended the night. The next day, I texted him it wouldn’t work out.
