But that isn’t like Mom. She’ll hold a grudge for decades, even against her own flesh and blood. Her silence makes me worried, but I shove the unease aside. It’s possible she finally understands the futility of trying to get me to fix her marriage.
Right. And Klingons are really Vulcans on Halloween.
“Your dad leaving you alone too?”
“Nope.” I down a mimosa. “He called me twice over the weekend, but…” I shrug.
As I do so, I feel the solid weight of my phone in my pocket. Should I text Skittles? Maybe I should ask her out to Éternité. She’d probably enjoy the mimosas too.
But she said no dating, remember?
Brunch isn’t really dating. It’s eating. Everyone has to eat.
“What are you stewing about?” Nate says.
“What?”
“You’re staring off into space. I know it’s not the food, and definitely not the company. So what gives? I thought things went well with Starburst.”
“Starburst?”
“You know, the Maui wedding twin.”
“Oh. She doesn’t want to see me because she’s hung up on some silly promotion.”
Nate shifts around. “No promotion is silly. It means more money and authority. And sometimes a better office.”
“Okay, you’re right. The promotion isn’t silly. Her beliefs around what it takes to get one are.” Then I finally unload what she said.
He listens. Confusion, disbelief and incredulity get into a mud-wrestling match on his face.
“Really?” he says when I’m done. “Has she considered the possibility that she just sucks at her job?” He raises a hand before I can respond. “Scratch that. People who suck never think they suck.”
“I think she’s probably okay,” I say, more out of wanting to defend her than any concrete basis. Nate could be right, but I don’t want to hear any talk about Skittles being incompetent.
“Performance in bed and performance on the job are two very different matters. I know because I made a mistake of hiring an ex once. She was impossible. We had to let her go after a month.”
I give him a look. I’m trying to date the woman, not hire her. “I can theoretically wait until she’s promoted this year.”
“And if she doesn’t get promoted this year?”
“Why do you have to be so negative?”
“Just saying.” He cuts into his French toast, which is swimming in syrup. “Look, if she doesn’t want you enough to disregard some fucked-up no-dating rule, screw her.”
That’s the problem. I want to screw her. Over and over again.
Nate reads my face. “Dude. There are billions of women out there.”
“But none of them is like Skittles.” Well, one is almost like Skittles. But she’s married now—and not quite right, if you know what I mean. And none of the others has lightened my heart the way Skittles has.
“When the lights are off, they all feel about the same in bed.”
Spoken like a true player. “Might as well date an inflatable doll, then.”
“They should invent datable inflatable dolls. Cheap, low maintenance, easy.” Nate guzzles down his mimosa. “It isn’t like you to spend this much time and energy on a girl. You’re hung up on her because she made you chase her all the way to freakin’ Hawaii. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spared her another thought. Trust me.”
“But she did,” I say, irritated at Nate’s attitude, even though I understand where he’s coming from. Normally, I never bother because I hate exerting too much effort on women. However, with Skittles, things are different.