“How was your date?” I ask before I lose my temper and say something I’ll regret.
Unfortunately, she’s not ready to let it go. “Do you understand the implications here? How are you going to feel if they lose tomorrow?”
I contemplate that for about a second before answering, “I’ll be disappointed for the team—and the fans, including myself—but I won’t feel responsible, if that’s what you’re suggesting. It was three hours. Jet’s a grown man. A very well-grown man.”
I don’t get the laugh I was hoping for, but I achieve some semblance of victory when she takes a deep breath and says, “I’m sorry. You’re right. You know how competitive I am.”
I graciously accept her apology. “I don’t think there’ll be a second date, so stand down.”
She sounds intrigued when she asks, “He didn’t like you?”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Well, he’s Jet Knox.”
“Yeah, well, Jet Knox was freaking me out with his talk about domesticity and goals and the future.”
This cracks her up. “Oh, geez. He didn’t do his homework about his opponent before you guys met up, obviously.”
I don’t tell her that he wasn’t clear who his opponent was going to be, period. I may have found it mildly amusing, but I’m not willing to admit to anyone else that it happened. I do have some pride.
“Right? Now, are you going to tell me about your date, or what?”
“It was fine,” she says vaguely. “Short. Molly had to be up early this morning, so we had a couple of drinks and said we’d be in touch.”
“And will you be?”
“Maybe after the postseason. I’m busy and could have a ton of traveling at the end of this month and beginning of February, if all goes well. I don’t want to be tied down.” The shrug in her voice tells me she’s more apathetic about her love life than I am about mine, if that’s possible.
“Well, aren’t we the commitment-phobes?” I say wryly.
“Yeah, but what’s the point in forcing something? You can’t help it that you don’t want the same things Jet wants, no matter how hot and rich he is or how much he seems to be into you—which is kind of creepy, if you ask me—and I can’t help it that my career is keeping me too busy right now to invest a bunch of time in a new relationship. I would commit to the right person at the right time. Wouldn’t you?”
“Uh, sure,” I reply, feeling slightly guilty when Mr. Tight End’s goofy grin flashes behind my eyes. Something tells me he doesn’t think too far into the future—or think much at all, to be honest.
“Well, I would,” she says. “And maybe you would, too, if you’d stop getting distracted by all the wrong people.”
“Good grief. Who needs a mom with a friend like you?” I grumble.
She laughs. “Sorry. It’s just— You know, some days I wish you’d pull it together.”
“Get in line, sister.”
I’ve set aside all serious thoughts about life and love and my future (or anyone else’s) and spent this dreary Saturday afternoon using the gift cards I received for Christmas. After a productive afternoon on The Plaza, I stow my purchases in my trunk and head on foot to my favorite bookstore, where I’ve arranged to meet Colin.
When he texted his invitation to me this morning, I hesitated, but the outing at such a familiar venue for us seemed like his way of putting me at ease after what I said to him at the end of his appointment yesterday, so I accepted. Perusing shelves of books, people-watching, and discussing absolutely nothing of consequence sounds like the perfect way to move on.
Immediately upon entering the store, I head for the coffee counter to order my usual six-thousand-calorie, seven-dollar drink. While waiting for the barista to work her caffeine magic, I text Colin.
Are you here? I’m getting coffee.
It takes forever (but still not as long as it takes to get my drink) for him to respond.
Walking in now.
When he joins me at the counter, he asks, “Was your shopping successful? Don’t keep a bloke in suspense. I want to know everything. Where’d you go? What’d you get?”
I laugh at his silly lisp. “I stayed close to here,” I answer, referring to the swanky shopping district I can’t afford any other time of the year but that he and I occasionally visit, since the people-watching can’t be beat. “I had some gift cards, so I picked up a few of my favorite lotions that were on sale—”
“Take my breath away.”
“—and I used the Victoria’s Secret gift card from my brother—”
“What?” he wheezes. “Your brother thinks it’s okay to give his sister a gift card to a lingerie shop?”
I laugh along with him. “I’m sure that was Deirdre’s doing.”
“Still. Inappropriate!”
“Ten bucks says it was a last-minute impulse buy after I told her about dancing with Jet Knox at that Christmas party. She’s been obsessed. When she finds out I went out on date with him last night—” I cringe, then muse aloud, “Maybe I won’t tell her and Greg. Ever.”
Colin’s eyebrows shoot up into his tousled bangs. “Hang on a mo. Lady Maura, you’re holding out on me! You and I are going to have a chin wag.” After I pay for my drink, he drags me with him to the end of the queue. “But first, I need one of those coffees.”
While we wait in line—again—I try to tell him there’s nothing to discuss regarding my Friday night, but every time I open my mouth to say something to that effect, he holds up a hand and says, “Wait! No. Don’t.”
As soon as we’re seated at a table, I insist, “It was nothing.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. Did he wear his white trousers or his red ones?”
“He wasn’t in uniform, you goosegog,” I say with a laugh, using one of my favorite expressions
