Page 30 of The Quit List
I roll my eyes at her conspiratorially. “It will be, once I land him.”
“Is he a friend of Jax’s?” She looks over at the bartender flirtily. “Anyone I know?”
Jax casually picks up a glass and starts polishing it. “Holly, care to take this one?”
I flush red. “Oh, um… well, actually, I don’t know who he is yet.”
Kara blinks. Purses her pretty pink lips. “I don’t get it.”
“Well. I’m currently on a mission to find the perfect man.”
Kara narrows her eyes, then grimaces awkwardly. Like she’s pondering whether I’m a little unhinged and Jax is in grave danger.
“Hey, I think Orlagh’s calling you.” Jax nods at Kara. “Sounds like she’s in the kitchen.”
The waitress glances at her dainty white wristwatch. “Guess we’re officially open, better go see what she wants.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise,” Kara lies.
She walks off, all wiggly hips and waggly ponytail. I sigh and flatten my hands on the bar in front of me. It’s surprisingly clean and unsticky. Two points for Wolf Man.
“Looks like I saved you. Again.” Jax grins.
“Your girl Kara thinks I’m Looney Tunes.”
“Not my girl.” He goes back to polishing glasses in that casual, flippant way that I’ve already come to recognize. I try not to notice the way his big hands make quick work polishing the delicate stem of a wine glass.
“But she wants to be,” I press.
A chuckle. “I thought you couldn’t read people.”
“No, but I see massive flashing billboards in front of me.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any problem learning how to spot massive flashing walking red flags,” Jax says, pushing an order pad across the bar towards me. “Why don’t you start by writing down everything you’re looking for in a man, and we’ll go from there.”
I eagerly grab the pad of paper and tear off a piece. “Perfect.” I’ve got this one locked and loaded already!
He goes on to toss me a pen, and I, of course, don’t see it coming and miss it by about a foot. Reflexes of an arthritic grandma, apparently.
As I inelegantly slide off my stool and crouch for the pen, Jax calls down to me. “Oh, and Holly?”
“Yup?”
“This may come as a shock, but if your mission really is to find the ‘perfect man,’ you may be looking for a while. Because there’s no such thing.”
I leap to my feet and point his pen at him indignantly. “Oh yes, there is!”
He sighs the sigh of a very tired man. “Please don’t tell me that you’re one of those hopeless romantic types who thinks some shirtless Harlequin Hero is gonna ride up on his horse and whisk you away for a perfect happy ever after.”
“Definitely not. But I do know that Henry Cavill exists, and if that’s not perfection, I don’t know what is.”
“Hol,” Jax says patiently. “That dude still has morning breath and gets smelly feet after a run. Because he’s human.”
“No, he’s Superman.” I slide back onto my stool, pen in hand. “Maybe that should be the new first thing on my list: If you’re not Superman, take a hike!”
Jax puts his arms on the bar and leans forward. “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”