Howdy! This is a collaboration between celtic mommy and jaime12576. For those of you freaking out thinking we have abandoned our other stories, put the pills down and step away from the alcohol. We are both still writing our other stories, but couldn't resist this special little tale.

And if you haven't read our other stories, read this chapter, review, add it to your story alerts and then promptly go to our profiles and begin reading the genius that is our writing.

BPOV

Wedding planning journal with business cards for caterer, DJ, and list of possible ceremony locations?

Check.

Pictures of flower arrangements, engagement rings, and wedding cakes?

Check.

Likes and dislikes of my date?

Check.

I looked in the rear view mirror after examining the contents of my large bag. I couldn't stop the grin that appeared on my face, knowing tonight would be so much fun. Game time, Bella.

I hopped out of my rusty pile of shit once known as a truck – back when gas was only 10 cents a gallon – and casually made my way up the steps to the townhouse owned by my date for the evening.

I gave the door a nice hard set of three knocks and began my wait for tonight's Prince Charming to come sweep me off my feet. I didn't have to wait long as the door flew open before my arm was down by my side.

"Isabella! I wasn't sure if you were going to show up." The baby-face man seemed irritated by my tardiness. I just shrugged my shoulders and waved my hand dismissively.

"Eh. I couldn't remember if we agreed on 7 or 7:30." I smiled sheepishly at him, batting my eyelashes.

"But it's 8." He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You can't rush perfection, my dear." I gave him a sly grin as I gestured to the outfit I was wearing. Alice and I chose a teal corset with dark wash skinny jeans and black knee high boots. Upon gesturing to the nice view of my girls that he was getting, I knew I was off the hook. His eyes rested on the cleavage spilling out of my top and glazed over slightly.

Typical male. I internally rolled my eyes before clearing my throat and getting his attention back to my face.

"So, ready to go?" I gave my signature sweet smile and gestured toward the street with my thumb. I ignored the fact that the moron never invited me in and left me standing in his doorway.

"Oh! Yes. Let me just lock up." He fumbled with his keys for a second before getting his door locked. He turned to me with a wary smile. "Shall we?"

"We shall." I giggled, then promptly internally bitch-slapped myself for that stupid giggle. I was really pulling out all the stops for this tool. "I'm so glad you didn't mind me picking you up and driving. As a single woman in the big city, I feel I can never be too careful and don't allow strangers to visit my apartment." I smiled when he nodded in understanding.

We stopped in front of my beast of a truck and I had to bite my tongue to hold in my laughter over his reaction.

"What's wrong?" I put a hint of concern in my voice.

"Huh?" He looked away from the beast and stared at me for a second before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Um, is this what you drive?"

I huffed in annoyance and crossed my arms, tilting my head and glaring at him.

"Yes." I hissed through gritted teeth. "Will that be a problem for you?" I kept my eyes narrowed and saw him squirm under my gaze.

"No. No. Just surprised. I could have sworn I saw you driving a different car when you left the shop last week." He backtracked while staring at the red monstrosity. Of course, he was right, but I had to make sure he believed that Big Red was really my beloved truck.

"Good. Glad it won't be a problem." I chirped, ignoring his statement regarding me driving another car. I jumped into the driver's side as he cautiously slid into the passenger's side. I gave him a second to adjust to the smell of stale cigarettes and pine air freshener before launching into the next phase of the date. The car ride phase is one of my faves! I stuck the key into the ignition before turning to him.

"Before I start this little beauty, I have to warn you that my radio is broken." I gave him an apologetic look.

"That's fine. I have a bit of a headache at the moment anyway…" He stopped talking when the engine roared to life and mixed with the sounds of Alanis Morrisette's You Outta Know filling the air at a volume that will probably cause our ears to bleed after prolonged exposure.

My date look at me with his puppy dog eyes wide in shock. I shrugged and launched into a quick explanation.

"I was going through a rough break up and had a whole Alanis phase." I yelled over to him as he cringed away from the sound. "I played this song over and over and over and over again. Then one day, as I was singing along something happened and the song just stuck on repeat." I reached over him into the glove compartment and pulled out ear plugs, handing them to him. "Here. These will help."

He nodded, said thanks, although not loud enough to be heard over the truck's roar or Alanis's yelling, and shoved the ear plugs in his ears. This is going beautifully!I mentally high fived myself.

Five minutes into the car ride, Alanis was asking if the chick would go down on the guy in a theater for the third time when my phone vibrated. Alice.

"Hey Al." I sang happily into the phone. My date looked at me questioningly. I just put a finger up in a silent request to give me one second.

"Bella. How's the date going?" Alice giggled into my ear.

"No Al. We went over this already. I didn't know it was your brother." I threw my hand in the air, removing it from the steering wheel, in exasperation. I let the car veer slightly before righting, just enough to get my baby-faced passenger to yelp and brace himself with his right foot jamming onto an imaginary brake.

Alice began laughing as I went on. "Shit. It was dark and you both have small dicks. I barely felt anything, so I just assumed it was you. Get over it." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my date turned to me as I carried on my conversation.

" Nice!" Alice commented. "I love when you use the 'I didn't know it was your brother' line!" She laughed loudly. "I'll talk to you later. Can't wait to hear how this one goes."

"Yeah, yeah. I know!" I shouted into the phone. "Oh, and by the way, the baby isn't yours!" I roughly stabbed the screen of my iPhone to end the call and threw it into my bag.

Looking over at the poor man sitting next to me, I almost felt bad for the schmuck, but I had a mission and I was going to complete it as always.

"Sorry about that. My ex is a fucking douche bag." I rolled my eyes and he offered me a weak smile. I could see the wheels turning in his head while he contemplated whether he should ask about what he heard me say on the call. I said nothing, allowing him to stew over everything.

Another ten minutes later, I pulled up to Taco Rosado, the worst Mexican place in the city. Bert, a slightly crazy ex-Marine, owned the place and was always willing to help me out while on a date. And when on a date with a health inspector, this place was fucking gold.

Now, let me explain a little about Taco Rosado. There are a few points you have to understand to get the full effect of the ambiance, if you will.

First is the smell. The only way to describe it is this. Take thirty children in the midst of potty training – at the point that they refuse the take a shit anywhere but in their pants, but without a diaper. And did I mention the kids are lactose intolerant? Yeah, now give them whole milk and leave them in the room for a few hours. Picture that smell. Now, close the room off for a month and let the smell seep into every nook and cranny in the place. That, my friends, is the smell that hits you as you enter the Bert's fine establishment.

Second is the grime. Taco Rosado has been open for twenty years and in that time, Bert has proudly stated he has never given the place a good cleaning. Not that he needs to tell anyone. The inch-thick sections of dirt and grease everywhere is a pretty good clue.

Third is the décor. Take every cliché Mexican product, eat it, and throw it up. That is just a sampling of what the Mexican décor looks like. There are donkeys handing from the ceiling, piñatas as centerpieces on each table, and sombreros if you come celebrating a birthday.

My little puppy dog of a date followed me as I got out of my truck before he warily looked around the parking lot. I reached my hand back and he latched on tightly, causing me to grin and stifle my laughter. We heard a sound coming from the dumpster near the entrance and my date yelped. I squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"It was just a cat." I smiled. "They take care of killing all the mice around here." His eyes widened and he picked up speed to rush into the restaurant. I followed behind him and was immediately hit with the shitty smell of the restaurant. Whew! Stings the nostrils a bit.

"Isabella?" My date turned to me worried. I raised my eyebrows in response while contemplating if this was going to be too much for him. I planned to really get him good tonight, but I didn't want to traumatize the guy. "Uh. Are you sure you want to eat…" Cue burp resonating through dining area from kitchen. I rate that a 5, Bert. "…here?" He looked around in disgust.

"Of course! I love this place!" I squealed. "Don't be judgmental! Do you have something against Mexicans?" I narrowed my eyes as he shook his head furiously. I relented when I saw Bert poke his head out from the kitchen and give me a wink, nodding his head toward my usual table.

Bert and Betty Lou, his wife and this fine establishment's waitress, are like and aunt and uncle to me. You know the aunt and uncle that no one in the family mentions at get-together's and are never invited to family events in order to avoid any drama or just down-right embarrassing moments? That's Bert and Betty Lou. They are crazy bitches, and funny as hell.

And luckily don't get offended by the fact that I don't eat the food from their restaurant. They order take-out from another Mexican place for me on the nights that I bring a date and serve it to me instead of food cooked on the premises.

I motioned for my companion to follow me to a booth and pointed to the greasy menus for him to take one. I was smart enough to not touch one myself, not in the mood to get swine flu. Another thing that has never been cleaned in this place since opening – the menus.

Betty Lou came to take our order with her perfectly coiffed pink wig, smacking her gum and attempting to blow bubbles. I ordered "the usual", which meant enchiladas from the place down the street. Mike ordered the Cancun Coed, which is a combo of pork chimichangas and fish tacos. I grabbed her before she could walk away.

"Oh, and can you bring two of the 32 oz margaritas?" I smiled at her.

"Um. Isabella. I don't drink." My date whispered to me.

"So?" I furrowed my brows. "Those are for me." I shook my head like he was crazy and smiled at Betty Lou. I knew she would be bringing me my virgin drinks and I could play the tipsy girl soon.

Our conversation was awkward and boring to say the least. He wanted to talk about his family's sporting goods store, which happened to be where we met. I wanted to stab him in the eye with my fork. It was all just so blah, but I knew I was going to spice it up soon enough.

When our food came, I took the opportunity to tell my main squeeze for the night all about my food philosophy.

"You know. The food here is really spicy. And as they say, 'it goes in spicy, comes our spicier', so be careful when you get home tonight. I bet your ass will be burning." I took a huge bite of my food as I watched my date attempt to eat what I assume was a fish taco. At least that's what it smelled like.

While we continued to talk and my escort did his best to keep his meal down, gagging quite frequently, I took it upon myself to dramatically simulate oral sex on the straw of my margarita. It was disgusting and I threw up in my mouth a little at the overdone way I was gave my drink a blow job. My date grimaced as he watched me, while I batted my eyelashes at him.

When we were finished with our meal, I knew it was time to finish up the date with a bang. I reached into my big bag of tricks and pulled out my favorite tools.

"So, Mike." I placed a notebook in front of me and began to write numbers in a pre-made grid. "I have a scoring system I use on all of my dates. According to your score, we are highly compatible. So, good news, I'm willing to marry you." I clapped and gave him a huge smile. His face contorted in confusion.

"I'm sorry. What?" He began looking around the room, obviously trying to see if there was a hidden camera somewhere.

"No need to get emotional. It is a big night for us, but I'm so happy." I jumped up and down in my seat before grabbing my wedding planner. "Okay. I think we should get down to business. I already have an idea of where I want to have the ceremony, but you can come look at locations with me. I am thinking a summer wedding would be nice. Oh, maybe we could go to Cancun and get married! It will be like our first date!" I continued to throw ideas at him for an extravagant wedding before Betty Lou came out with our dessert – Fried Ice Cream of course.

We ate a few bites before I hit something hard. I grinned at my date.

"Oh my!" I put my hand over my mouth and fanned my face as though I was going to cry." I dug into the ice cream and pulled out an engagement ring. "Oh honey!" I shouted and flung myself at my date from my place across from him.

"Um. Isabella." He began, but I cut him off.

"You don't even have to ask. My answer is yes!" I yelled as loudly as I could.

"Okay. That's it!" He jumped up from his seat. I stared at him wide-eyed. "I don't know what the fuck is going on here. And I don't know what the hell happened to the shy quiet girl who came into the store asking for help on camping equipment, but you are sure as hell not her." He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, throwing cash on the table. "There. That's enough for our dinner. You" He started, pointing at me "are one crazy bitch. I don't know what is wrong with you, but you really need professional help."

I bowed my head and my shoulders shook as tearless sobs wracked my body. I kept this up as I heard his rant continue while he stormed out of the restaurant, shouting that he would get a cab home and to never call him again.

"Awesome job, girlie." I looked up at Betty Lou, who was standing at the table with a shit eating grin. "He stuck it out longer than any of the other dates you brought here. " She winked at me before walking back to the kitchen. I grabbed my phone and made a call.

"This is Bella. Meet me at the bar in 20 minutes." I hung up, waved to Betty Lou and Bert and made my way to the truck.

I ditched the truck in my garage and switched to drive my baby, a silver Audi r8, and sped over to Whitlock's. Walking into the bar, I was greeted by the bouncers and much of the staff. This was my favorite place to come, especially after one of my dates. I scanned the crowd and immediately found who I was looking for.

"Hi Bella!" Her annoying nasally voice was like an ice pick to my ears.

"Hi Jessica, has he called?" I had a 100% guarantee rate and I felt smug already knowing the answer.

"Yes. He called right after you called to meet here! He said the wedding is back on! I am going to be Mrs. Mike Newton in less than 2 months!" She jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I allowed her a quick hug before placing my hand out, palm up. "Oh, sorry." She placed a roll of bills in my hand.

"Great doing business with you. Glad I could be of assistance." I patted her head and shoved the money in my purse. Turning toward the bar, I saw my buddy and favorite bartender, Jasper.

"Hey Bells!" He slid me my beer. "Tell me all about the date tonight."

And just like I have for the past 3 years, I went into detail with Jasper about my date for the evening. He always thought it was funny that I put so many men through such torture, but it was for the greater good. Women hired me to show their idiot boyfriends or fiancés that they could have it far worse. I like to consider myself to be cupid in a way – without the diaper and with a kick ass body.

So should we go on or go back to the drawing board????? Reviews are our form of payment :)