Not a date. Same as two colleagues sharing a meal, but it’s wine.
I sigh. We need to add a no drinking together rule.
Sorry, terms have been set. Should have brought that to the original negotiation.
I decide to fuck with Ronan a little. Regardless, the terms of our agreement permit my date, including any other activities I choose to engage in with said date. I’ll see you Monday.
I look over at Aidan again. He smiles at me from the sink. I do need to leave, and I need to be honest with Aidan about why. But I’m not meeting Ronan tonight.
I put my phone away and walk into the kitchen. My stomach does another tumble, like it did on the drive over. There’s no easy way to do this, but I need to get it over with.
He turns off the water and raises his eyebrows, his face pleasant.
“Aidan, this dinner was really nice,” I say, “and you’re a very nice guy.”
His smile fades. “But?”
“But, I don’t think this is right for me,” I say. “Honestly, I wish it was. You have so much going for you, and when you meet the right woman I know you’re going to make her very happy.”
“Oh,” he says. “I guess I thought we were really hitting it off.”
“It’s not that you aren’t a nice guy.”
“You said that already,” he says. “I just don’t understand. I’ve been doing everything right, following the list.”
“What list?” I ask.
He glances away. “It’s nothing.”
“You have a list? What does that mean?”
“I follow a very well-respected author, and he provides a variety of helpful tools on his website.”
“Author of what?”
“He’s a self-help guru,” Aidan says. “He writes for a male audience, giving relationship advice.”
“So this whole time, everything you’ve done has been an item on a checklist? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding,” he says. “It’s a valid technique.”
“Valid technique? For what? What is this, some sort of list of steps to get a woman in bed?”
“Not exactly. Sex is just one part of the overall process.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, I’m baffled. You fit all the criteria from his quiz. I followed the checklist to the letter, and it was working perfectly.”
No wonder everything has felt so forced and clinical. He wasn’t trying to establish a solid base to build a lasting relationship. He was following a fucking checklist.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but it was not working perfectly.” I grab my purse and head for the front door.
“Selene, wait.”
“No,” I say. “Some online quiz is not going to magically produce the woman of your dreams. You can take your self-help moron and creepy checklist, and find someone who will fall for that bullshit. I’m sure she’s out there, but she sure as hell isn’t me.”
He says something else, but I’m out the door too quickly. He better not follow me. A quiz? Is he fucking kidding? Unbelievable.
I hurry out to my car and drive away. I have to circle around the block to get on a street that will take me home, and just the sight of his building sends a chill down my spine. God, to think I was actually trying to talk myself into sleeping with that guy. Is this what happens when you try to date a nice man? You wind up with a guy who can’t think for himself?
I get home and pull into my garage, remembering my phone dinged with another text before I left Aidan’s. It’s from Ronan.
If your lack of sex tonight leaves you restless, call me. I’ll be happy to provide relief.
I roll my eyes. I’m sure he would. Our agreement stipulates we don’t sleep together.
His reply comes as I walk in the door. Consider it a freebie.
That’s very generous of you. /sarcasm
I’m a very generous man.
I set my phone down on the counter. I’d be lying to myself if I say I’m not tempted. But sleeping with Ronan would be an absolute disaster, no matter what he says about it being a “freebie.” There’s no such thing.
Good night, Ronan.
Good night, Selene. See you Monday.
10: Ronan
Scott leaves my office after a meeting with me and Janine, the HR Director. He’s a good kid, but I talked Sarah into coming up here for at least the next six months. She should arrive any time. Janine and I found another position for Scott, so I didn’t have to let him go. I think he was actually relieved—I’m not an easy guy to work for.
I swing my chair around to look at the view through the big windows while I return a few calls. The sky is clear, the sun glinting off the glass windows of the buildings across the street. I feel a familiar twitch: the desire to fly. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good hit of adrenaline. I’m starting to get edgy.
There’s a knock at my door, and I glance over my shoulder. Sarah stands in the doorway, dressed in a dark blue dress with a slim gold belt, a pair of sunglasses on her face. Her blond hair is pulled up and she has a black bag hanging from her shoulder.