Gods, he was handsome.
Another photo showed him standing on a rocky mountainside with a backpack strapped to his back, a wide grin plastered to his face as he gave the camera a thumbs up. It appeared he was quite the outdoorsman.
The third photo showed him sipping from a tiny espresso cup with his pinky out in a display of civility.
So he was a caffeine guy.
Now that I could get behind.
According to his profile, his name was Alistair.
Alistair.
How distinguished.
He was a fifty-five-year-old divorcé who worked in the agricultural industry. A suspicious maple leaf graced that portion of his profile…Did that mean he worked in the marijuana industry?
Although I'd embraced the whole grunge aesthetic in the ‘90s, I’d never smoked pot before…How would that even work?
I mean, not everyone who worked in that industry smoked pot, right? There was no way the investors with their tailored suits were toking doobies in their high rises.
I was being ridiculous. Weed was legal in some states. I was making a stink about nothing.
His location was listed as…right here in Briar Glenn?
He must have moved here recently. I would have seen him around town, I’m sure of it.
I scrolled to his About Me.
I live in Colorado, but I’m visiting to help care for my daughter. I have a degree in agriculture and work in the cannabis industry. I enjoy the great outdoors, coffee, and good food with even better company. I’m looking for casual, no strings attached fun.
Well, it appeared I should edit my profile. His was much more professional.
My finger hovered over his photo.
He was visiting from another state, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself…
“Aw, what the hell,” I said to Remi, and swiped right.
Now to wait and see if he’d respond.
TWO
ALISTAIR
What you seek is seeking you, too.
“Chai, hun. You alright in there?” I asked as I rapped my knuckles on the bathroom door.
“I’m fine, Dad. Can’t I use the bathroom in peace?” she groaned from behind the door.
“Sorry, sorry. My bad. Just wanted to make sure you were all good.” I heard her let out a deep sigh as I walked down the hall toward the guest room I was staying in.
My daughter, Chai, had been dealing with some health issues, and I’d flown in from Colorado to take care of her. With my position as the CEO of a cannabis cultivation and distribution company, I was able to work remotely and provide her with the support she needed to get better.
And better she was. We’d spent the holidays together for the first time in who knew how long, and I could tell my presence was wearing on her patience.
Sure, we were close, but we hadn’t lived together for quite some time. She was a grown minotaur who was used to her independence and privacy. I interfered with that.
