When I saw her, I saw she was projecting a mix of both. She wore jeans and a soft black sweater, her hair pulled back like shedidn’t want to look too nice, but she still did. She held a large canvas bag filled with sample boards and fabric swatches.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” I replied. “I’m really sorry about Friday.”
“Don’t be,” she responded quickly. “Children come first.”
“I know, but…what was about to happen…”
She looked at me with a jumble of emotions behind her eyes; fear, disappointment and longing but at the forefront was a clear warning she didn’t want to discuss it. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. We need to stay professional.”
“Okay,” I said, taking the samples.
“I’ll be back on Friday at noon with the other items,” she said without taking a breath.
And that was it. She left in a hurry, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of rejection. I knew this could happen, but I felt hurt anyway.
Later that evening, my mom texted me, following up to see if I’d reached out to Jessica. Apparently, her mom mentioned I hadn’t called yet. Fine, I thought. I’d reach out to Jessica. Maybe that was what I needed to get over Natalie.
I decided to call like a gentleman. Jessica picked up after a few rings. We chatted a little, and she apologized for the whole thing, admitting that our mothers were pushing this. All the same, we made a date for the following Friday, once again at Bourbon House.
There, I was moving on.
My phone buzzed. It was Evan.
Evan: I got Laker tickets for tomorrow. You interested?
It was exactly what I needed to snap out of it.
Will: Definitely.
After a showing at a few buildings for a startup client, I closed the deal and headed to grab Evan for the game. Crypto Arena was packed. Energy buzzing, fans everywhere. Evan scored us lower bowl seats.
“How did you get these seats?” I asked as we made our way down.
“One of my students. The kid’s dad is in media relations for the team.”
“Of course he is,” I said, shaking my head. “You and your surfer Rolodex.”
We settled in with beers and plastic trays of nachos with lukewarm cheese. Evan took a sip of his beer and adjusted his hat.
“So what is the latest with the married hot mom?”
“Nothing to tell. She dumped off some samples for my house. She wants to keep it professional.”
“Cold,” he said. Popping a chip in his mouth. “But if she is working on your house, she will be back for more. I have not met a girl who has turned you down yet.”
“Well,” I said with an ironic chuckle, “she was pretty clear. And she is married. So… I think it’s done.”
Evan raised his beer. “If you say so.”
But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure I believed it.
CHAPTER 23
TAKING BACK WHAT IS MINE
NATALIE
