Page 20 of A Matter of Time

I shook my head and was going to try and say something comforting when my phone rang. I went around my desk and answered.

“So Thanksgiving’s in two weeks. You know that, right?”

“Nick.” I smiled into the receiver because I never forgot a voice. Sometimes it was a bad thing because it gave people I hardly knew the feeling that I cared more than I really did, which was the case here. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m just reminding you that you promised.”

“I’m sorry, what did I promise?”

Heavy sigh from a guy I’d only been on two dates with. He was very nice, and an attending at the county hospital. “You’re spending four days with me. My parents have a cabin in Tahoe. I mean, in Incline Village, but it’s like the same thing. We can ski every day. You’re gonna love it.”

I doubted that, since skiing was not really my thing. “Huh.”

“And I know you’re not psyched about it, but I really want you to go, and you can just sit around and relax and drink all weekend with me and my friends.”

“I see.” I chuckled.

“I already bought your ticket.”

“I can pay you back.”

He cleared his throat. “C’mon, Jory. I don’t wanna be paid back. If you don’t use the ticket, it’s not like I can’t use it or⁠—”

“Oh good.”

“No, not oh good,” he insisted. “I want you to go with me. I have a reoccurring fantasy of being under a mound of blankets with you while snow is falling outside.”

I smiled into the phone again. “That’s very romantic.”

“Don’t I know it!”

I laughed at him. “I’ll think about it, all right?”

“Okay, that’s fair. In the meantime, can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Actually, I’ve got a⁠—”

“Jory.” His voice dropped to a whisper. He was obviously somewhere other people were and he didn’t want them to hear. “Baby, you can’t just sleep with me once and blow me off.”

“No? Most guys like it that way.”

“I’m not most guys. I want to see you; I want to spend time with you. I have this great breakfast nook in my townhouse that you’d look great at first thing in the morning.” Which was nice. The problem was there was no spark at all. Not even a drop of chemistry. I’d had sex with him because I felt like if I didn’t, I would be a cocktease. I had a personal rule: if you made it to my apartment, you were getting laid. He’d been there on the second date, and even though I didn’t really feel like it at that point, I’d had sex with him anyway. I knew I was in trouble when we were done and he wanted to spend the night. I’d lied to get him out of my bed because I didn’t sleep with anyone. Screw, yes; cuddle up with, no. I’d never liked anyone enough or trusted anyone enough to let them spend the night.

“Listen,” I said gently, “why don’t I call you later after I see if my boss is gonna need me tomorrow night or not.”

“Oh, you gotta work. I’m sorry. I thought you were trying to blow me off.”

I was, but it was nicer this way. “No.”

“Okay. Great. Call me later.”

“I will,” I lied.

“Maybe I should run over there and write the number on your hand so you don’t forget it.”

“No, no, no.” I chuckled into the receiver. “Don’t do that. I’ve gotta go get my boss some lunch. I’m not even gonna be here in, like, five minutes.”

“Then I’ll leave it on your voicemail.”