in flux.
And now that that thought is up there in the front of my brain, there’s no time like the present to move this whole thing along.
“Well, thanks for dinner the other night, Mikey. And the club soda—” I hold up my empty glass. “It was really nice getting to talk with you.”
I start to get up, but he reaches out and snags my hand before I can do much more than grab my purse. “Hold on, Mallory. Please. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”
“I’m not offended.” And it’s true. I’m not offended. What I am is a little embarrassed that I let my life get to this point and a lot ready to figure out what comes next. “I do have a lot on my plate. And I am in the middle of a contentious divorce, so you’re right. I don’t have a lot of energy left for other things. Which I actually think is okay—just like I think it’s okay that I don’t know what I want from my life at the moment. For the last decade, I’ve thought—expected—my life to end up one way. And now I’m finding out it’s going to go in a whole different direction. I think it’s okay—no, I think it’s better than okay—for me to take a little time and figure out what that direction is.”
And whoa. That was a mouthful. Even more, it was a brain full—and something I had no intention of ever saying to Mikey or anyone else. But now that I’ve said it, now that it’s out there in the universe, I don’t feel bad about doing so. In fact, I’m proud of myself. Proud of myself for speaking my mind and even more proud of myself for taking ownership of my shit.
“I’m really not offended,” I reiterate when Mikey continues to look a little like a deer caught in the headlights. “And I’m not angry. I’m just telling you where I’m coming from—which I feel like I already did when we met for lunch.”
He inclines his head. “You did. I just…”
“Thought you could fix everything?” I tease with a grin.
He nods, shifting on his barstool. “Maybe something like that. I am a contractor, after all.” His grin fades. “Speaking of which, I ordered the dumpster, and it’ll be there in three days. I hope this whole thing doesn’t change us working together.”
“No, of course not.” I stand up and grab my purse from the hook under the bar. “You’re a good guy, and the references I called all said you’re a great contractor.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I would love to help you bring that house back to its original glory.” He pauses and drums his fingers on the table as if he’s trying to figure out how to say something.
I’m about to tell him to just spit it out—no need to be delicate at this point—when he finally looks back up at me.
“I know you’re having a rough time, so I can cut my bid by twenty-five percent to try and give you a break,” he says. “It’ll be tight getting everything we need to do it at that price, but I think if we’re creative—”
“No.” I shake my head emphatically. “I really appreciate you wanting to help me. I do. And it’ll take me a little while to get the money together, but I will get it together. And I’ll pay full price just like any other customer you took out on a couple of dates. Well, except the Angela discount—I’m totally taking that.”
He looks embarrassed. “Mallory—”
“I’m teasing about the dating part.” I reach over and squeeze his hand. “But I really do need to go now. I’ve got a house full of people, and I’m afraid they’ll run amok if I leave them alone too long.”
He laughs, as I intended him to. “Like I said. A lot on your plate.”
“A lot a lot,” I agree and push in my stool, tossing him a smile before I walk out of the cute wine bar with a great guy in it, knowing neither was for me.
I climb back into Jimi, feeling pretty good about myself, Mikey, and the future construction on Aunt Maggie’s—no, on my—house.
I’m actually glad he ended it, because I was never actually interested in him—something I should have told him from the very beginning. I knew there was no chemistry, but I wanted there to be. I wanted to fall for a nice guy who was just a nice guy. Uncomplicated, loves his