Maybe Later(46)

“We’ll change the subject,” I say.

I look down at her foot. She keeps tapping it against the wood floor. I study it curiously, trying to read her tattoo. There’s something very familiar about it.

“Is your brother still in town?” she asks, distracting me.

“Yes, he’s still in Steamboat,” I answer. “Probably with a group of friends. Nothing he’d talk about since he’s never been serious in a relationship.”

“What is it with people not getting serious these days,” she questions and shakes her head.

“You can’t generalize,” I interject.

“No one wants a serious relationship because they’re afraid they’ll end up becoming part of the forty-one percent who end up divorced,” she explains.

“I think it all depends on who they end up marrying.”

Who the fuck am I and why am I defending relationships? I’m part of that fucking forty-one percent and swore never to go there.

“Or dating,” she states. “How many guys pretend to be single when they’re in a committed relationship. Then, there are those who like to date just for fun, and after a few dates they realize there was nothing to hold them together.”

“You’ve dated married people?” I inquire.

“No but it happens often,” she says. “For all I know, you could be engaged, and I’m your last fling before the big day.”

I laugh, she reminds me a little of Amy, trying to toss around theories to fish for facts. There’s something about this woman that reminds me of her, I just don’t know what exactly, I can’t put my finger on it.

“What if you’re the one about to be married?”

She snorts and then grins. “You might have forgotten the fact that I’m scared shitless of commitment. Let’s change the subject again. How about music?”

Emmeline eyes at me suspiciously and asks. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“These days, I’ve been listening to a lot of indie groups. I like grunge, enjoy some classic rock if I’m in the mood I listen to—”

At that moment, the waitress rushes to the table. “Would you like another scotch?” she takes my empty glass.

“No, thank you. I’m driving,” I say. “Would you bring me an iced tea?”

“Of course, your food will be out in just a few minutes,” she announces.

“Em, would you like something else to drink?” I point at the empty glass of wine. “A martini?”

“I’m good,” she responds and smiles at the waitress.

Once we’re alone, she leans forward and says, “You don’t want to see what happens when I drink more than I should. It’s messy.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that side of you,” I say suggestively.

Immediately I realize that I truly wouldn’t mind seeing that side of her. Not the drunk Emmeline, the messy part. I want to know everything about Emmeline. Including her last name. Why is it that we’ve gone out a few times and we haven’t exchanged details as simple as our full names?

I think we’re at a point where she wouldn’t care that I’m a CEO or the details of my net worth. If we’re going to continue this relationship, things have to change. With my ex-wife, we cared too much about appearances. She was one of those women who would wake up with makeup on, God forbid I saw her au natural. Vivian had to be perfect for everyone. We were together because of appearances. She never loved me, and it took me a long time to realize that I didn’t love her either.

I’m not saying that I’m falling in love with Emmeline. But something is happening between us that’s worth exploring. I want to know more about her and the person she tries to conceal. I want to show her who I am. I’ve been hiding for a long time.

For a moment, I think of Amy and how would it be to finally meet her in person. Would she look twice at me? Immediately, I feel like an asshole. Why is it that being with Emmeline makes me feel like I’m being dishonest with Amy? Developing serious feelings isn’t something I like to do, and now, it’s happening with two different people.

Amy brightens my day. She’s perfect for me. Our personalities are so different that we just click, but she’s unattainable. Instead I have Emmeline. Who are you, Emmeline?

But that’s unfair, she deserves more than a guy who is interested in someone else. Am I obsessed with Amy just because it’s safe? She’s far away and can’t hurt me. I look at Emmeline, and there’s that powerful magnetic attraction that makes me feel like we belong together. Thirty-four and I’m thinking like a teenage boy discovering his first love. I just don’t know who I’m more attracted to.

Forget about that Amy chick.

She is unattainable and most likely, already taken. No, earlier she mentioned being a handful and how no one would be able to put up with her personality.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” she answers with a chuckle. “Actually, it’s been a long time since I drank too much. How about yourself, when was the last time you got wasted?”

“Are you fishing for information?” I counter. “I think I have your number.”

Thank you, Amy Walker.

“Of course you have my number,” she claims. “That’s precisely how we ended up on this date. You called me and texted me. I said no. Then, you convinced me, and here we are. I thought it was pretty obvious how we ended up in the same restaurant. I can give you a refresher. If you want, I can put you in my schedule tomorrow morning between Spearman and Everhart.”