Page 35 of The Quit List
“More of a granny-panties kinda girl then, Hollywood?” His cheeky grin widens.
“My underwear is none of your business.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I give him a flat look. “I’m no longer helping you with your weird booking venture.”
A laugh. “Oh, come on. I need you, Holly. I’ll even buy you lunch.”
“Hmm. I do like lunch.” I smile. “I guess that, as long as it’s not a date, I’m in.”
He laughs again. “Nah, I already told you—you’re just good company… for an old woman.”
13
JAX
Holly has to be the most… unique person I’ve met in a while.
She’s like a brain teaser puzzle that might look like it should be straightforward, but working it out requires a whole new way of thinking. And once you start trying to work it out, you don’t want to stop.
She’s weird, in a good way. And funny. I wasn’t lying when I said she was good company—she’s got this dry, self-deprecating humor that makes me feel strangely comfortable with her. We both use banter to deflect, and I kind of like that we’re well-matched.
I don’t usually warm to people so easily—or go out of my way to make friends—but something about Holly feels friend-like. I want to help her find what she’s looking for. The fact that she might be able to help me get a booking system up and running is just an added bonus.
Though I’m still not exactly sure why she’s so adamant about finding her forever person at this exact time in her life. The reason she gave me last night felt lacking, but I didn’t want to pry.
It’s not my business, I think as I go to meet her at our agreed-upon meeting spot at Oak Hill the following day. I show up three minutes after twelve, armed with a bag of tacos from Maria’s Cantina—my favorite greasy dive Mexican place in the area—to find that she’s pacing in circles.
“Hey, Hollywood,” I greet her with a breezy grin. “Looking good today.”
And she is. She’s dressed in another sundress—navy, this time—with brown leather sandals and those signature pink glossy lips.
She jerks her head up, and something close to relief crosses her delicate features before she smirks at me. “Thought I was gonna be stood up for the second time in two days.”
“I can’t stand you up because this isn’t a date, remember?”
Her smirk stretches into a smile. “This is true.”
“Regardless, sorry I’m late. There was a huge line at Maria’s,” I explain, glancing down at the bag of delicious food. “You eaten there before?”
“Nope, but it smells amazing!”
We take a seat on the hill, the city skyline in front of us providing a great view. Holly thanks me for lunch as I unload the tacos al pastor, along with some fried fish, chicken, and chorizo options.
“This is already better than most of the actual dates I’ve been on recently,” Holly says as she slips on her sunglasses and tilts her face towards the midday sun. Springtime in Atlanta is great—everything’s coming alive and the weather isn’t sweltering yet.
“Because I showed up?”
“And you haven’t spent the last five minutes talking only about yourself, or your gym membership, or your pet pigs.”
“I’m more of a dog guy,” I deadpan. “Also goes back to my point that you need to raise the bar a bit there, Hol. Sounds like it’s practically rolling around on the floor.”
“Why else do you think I asked for your help?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe my incredible prowess with women, my handsome good looks, my incorrigible charm…”
“Hmmm.” Holly taps a finger to her chin before shaking her head. “No. Definitely the bar on the ground thing.”