Thirty-five and Single

“Name’s Sam. You’re even hotter in person,” he says, his eyes roving over me.

I can’t answer. But more importantly, it doesn’t matter how attractive he is, I hadn’t lied. After last night’s jail date fiasco, the last thing I want is another date.

“I’m sorry you came all this way,” I say, though I have no idea how far he’s traveled.

“I’m not, darling. Now let’s get you fed.”

He holds out his hand and I might have flinched. His size is imposing. It isn’t like he’s taller than Joel or Corey, but the black t-shirt and jeans and a leather vest give him a badass appearance.

“I’m not very hungry,” I say, after swallowing.

“You could send me away, but I’d be forced to eat alone.”

His earnest smile is disarming. Still my eyes dart to the back, but everyone else is gone. I could kill Janet for doing this to me.

“Sure, but it will have to be a quick lunch. I have plans this afternoon.”

He nods and we exit. I don’t exactly feel afraid to be alone with him. But he is a big man that I don’t know. So when we make it outside, I breathe a little easier.

“What would you like to eat, darling?” he asks with a smile so bright, I relax a little more.

It might not be all that bad. Maybe I could have one drama-free date.

“Darling,” a high-pitched squeal breaks free from behind us.

Even passersby slow to see what’s going on. I’m almost afraid to turn around.

“Darla,” Sam says. “I told you I’d see you later.”

When I turn, a tiny woman with big lungs and more ink than virgin skin stands with a hip cocked out, baby planted there, and an attitude as she takes me in.

“Who’s she?” she shouts while giving me the side-eye.

I open my mouth to answer, but Sam takes care of it for me. “None of your business.”

“None of my business,” she screeches. “I’m your wife.”

“Soon-to-be ex-wife,” he corrects.

Cue in the bickering as they go at it to the point I have no idea where one sentence begins versus another. They shout over one another as Darla aims pointed glares in my direction. Though I’ve taken a few Krav Maga classes, I have a feeling the smaller woman could take me.

When Darla stops pointing at me like I’m enemy number one and they seem to forget I’m there, I slip away, understanding my limitation. I’m a peacekeeper, not a fighter. Though I would have given her my best moves and taken a self-respecting knockout dive if it would have come to that. But it isn’t my fight and I curse Janet again as I dart down a side street and work my way toward home.

Just as I turn a corner, my phone rings and I duck like shots have been fired. I’m so on edge, I reach to silence the sound as if the noise had given my position away. Then for a second I fear it’s Sam until I remember Janet doesn’t have my phone number.

When I check my screen, the name reads Craig. It takes me a moment to remember the guy I’d literally run into before my jail date.

“Hello,” I say, wondering if I’m making a mistake.

“Hey. I’m just checking to see if you survived your date last night.”

He sounds amused and I find myself smiling.

“Barely,” I say and then remember how I’d spend my time after.

Joel and his incredible hands, voracious mouth, and hard cock had been the soothing balm I’d needed.

“Olivia,” Craig says as if he’s been speaking to me.

“Yes, sorry.”

“I asked if I had a chance.”

“About that,” I say.

He groans. “Don’t tell me you fell madly in love with that guy.”

I laugh because despite everyone, I feel comfortable talking with him. “It’s not that,” I begin. “Truthfully, I’m in the process of getting divorced. I thought why not put myself out there and date because I’ve never really been with anyone else except my ex.”

“Oh,” he says, like he understands.

“You seem like a really nice guy.”

“But—”

I smile to myself. “But.”

“There’s someone else,” he says.

“Maybe, possibly. He deserves someone better.” Younger, I don’t say.

“I doubt that. Sounds like a lucky guy.”

“I don’t know. He’s put up with me seeing other people. He might have moved on.”

I haven’t heard from Joel. He’d disappeared the other morning and hadn’t left a note. The possibility is that he’s given up on me.

“That sucks for me. I was hoping you’d be my date for this thing I have to go to tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably not a great idea,” I say, for more reasons than one.

Dating has been a total disaster for me.

“You think we could go as friends?” he asks.

“Craig—”

“I get it. You’re into someone else. That doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with other people, does it?” I don’t answer right away. “It will be fun,” he adds.