It’s my night off, too,I thought.I don’t have a live show to do. Dinner would be fun…
My phone picked that time to vibrate on the table. It was a reminder notification:
REMINDER: meet guy at my place, 7:00
I snatched my phone up and swiped the reminder away, but I was pretty sure Michael saw the screen.
“I’d love to keep hanging out, but I already have plans,” I said.
“No, of course, it’s not a problem,” Michael said, eyes flicking down to my phone again for a millisecond.
“It’s not a date,” I felt compelled to say.
“I didn’t say it was.”
“It’s a…” I trailed off, unsure of how to explain myself. What could I tell him that would be believable—besides the truth? “It’s just a guy I know. An old friend. We’re catching up on some things.”
“No problem.” Michael gestured for the waitress. “I’ll get the check.”
We finished our drinks while he paid the tab, then left the restaurant. Outside, we lingered for a moment, not sure what to say. It was like all the electricity we had shared had suddenly run out.
“Well, this was fun,” he said. “Have fun on your not-date!”
“It’snota date,” I insisted.
“Sure.” He flashed a charming smile as his sandy blond hair fluttered in the wind. “Goodnight, Ginny.”
For a moment, he looked like he was going to hug me. Then he turned and left.
I watched him until he disappeared around the next block, and wished the night could have continued longer.
12
Kai
I’ve loved every woman I have ever met.
My friends liked to call me a man-slut when I was in high school and then college, but I didn’t think that was fair. I was just supremely appreciative of the fairer sex. When I met a woman for the first time, I saw the best in her. A wide smile. The way her eyes brightened when she laughed. Even superficial things, like a great chest or a perfect ass. Any flaws she had disappeared and I found myself immensely attracted to her best qualities.
Whether we hooked up once, or dated for a little while, or never even went past friendship at all, I remembered every single woman I met. I imagined vast futures together, lying in bed on Saturday mornings and having tickle-fights that turned into steamy make-out sessions. I thought about coming home and making her dinner, and going to the movies, and strolling through the park on the weekend and popping into a farmer’s market to buy homemade pies. This happened with any woman I had spoken to for more than a few minutes.
Freud would have claimed it was because I didn’t get enough love from my mother. And maybe he would be right. But I considered it a blessing—and occasionally a curse.
It also made this kind of work easier than it otherwise would be.
I parked in the lot across from the apartment and sat in the car for a few minutes. I was early. After looking around a bit, I emptied the change out of my cupholders and stashed my sunglasses in the glove compartment. This wasn’t exactly adangerousneighborhood, but it wasn’t the nicest part of town, either.
As I walked up to the building entrance, I paused to read the plaque on the wall
A PROUD TROUT PROPERTY
That made me laugh. She really did own most of this town, didn’t she? When I had collected myself, I pressed the intercom on the wall and punched in the apartment number.
“Hello?” came a woman’s melodic voice. Already, I was hooked.
“It’s Kai. I’m downstairs.”
“I’ll buzz you in. Come on up.” The door unlocked, and I went inside.