Page 12 of The Quit List
Which isn’t ideal for her because I don’t date coworkers. Or friends. Or friends of friends. Another general rule of mine. I only date women I’m not tied to personally or professionally and who are looking for the same thing as I am: no strings.
Strings are for puppets.
The one and only time I briefly dated one of the waitresses here, she spent the next few months cornering me in the stock room and tearfully telling me that she hoped I’d change my mind about wanting a serious relationship.
And as much as I hated to see her cry, I hadn’t.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I didn’t think she was good enough for me. Not at all. In fact, most women I’ve dated have been way, way too good for me. It’s just that I don’t want to fall in love with anyone.
And, deep down, I know that they don’t really want to fall in love with me, either.
I’m the temporary distraction, not the happily ever after.
So, now, I do everyone a favor by sticking to my rules and only dating women like Laurel—a flight attendant with no desire for anything to hold her in one place for long.
And speaking of Laurel…
I’m pretty sure she’s in town next week, and while I’d like to see her, I should probably be working on some of the stuff Morris was talking about.
Although, Morris did say that I should get some experience leading beginners, and I’m fairly certain that Laurel hasn’t been on a hike in the area. Or any area—she doesn’t seem like the hiking type.
Maybe I could take her to the cabin for an adventurous date? That way, I could spend some time with her and get some of that wilderness guiding experience Morris was talking about.
The thought calms some of the overwhelm I’ve been feeling since that phone conversation.
I strain the shaken vodka and Chambord mixture into a chilled martini glass and set it alongside the other drinks on the tray, and then add a shot of Patron to complete the order. “Here you go, Kara. That should be everything.”
“Thanks, Jax.” Kara smiles.
“Not gonna thank me?” Dante pouts.
It’s Kara’s turn to raise a perfectly groomed eyebrow at Dante. “What would I thank you for?”
“My compliment, of course,” he says flirtily.
“Not sure it’s much of a compliment. I always look good.” Kara smirks, flips her hair, and picks up the tray of drinks before sashaying away, hips swinging.
“Yeah, you do!” Dante calls after her.
I elbow him. “Be cool, dude. And put your tongue back in your mouth.”
“I think I might have a chance! Wanna see if she and Erin feel like getting drinks after work?”
“No.”
“No” is my favorite complete sentence, and in my opinion, people don’t utilize it enough.
Other people, that is. I have no problem saying no at any given time, for any given reason.
“Suit yourself,” Dante says. “Maybe they’ll want a menage a trois with me for the evening.”
“Unlikely.”
“You’re such a pessimist,” he responds, and for a moment, the overwhelmed feeling that’s been sitting in my chest since my call with Morris eases.
I like Dante, but sometimes, I really cannot wait to get out of here.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe I can be pessimistic, and my solution is to stop being negative and simply take things step by step. One at a time.