Chapter 44

We made some small talk on the way to the restaurant. She had just landed a couple of new accounts at work and was very excited. I was just happy that my boss hadn't chewed on me the day before when a whole pallet of liquor had turned up missing (no one at work had actually stolen anything—this time—the new inventory system screwed up all on its own).

We were seated at a private corner table. The lights were low and the food was excellent. McKayla ordered a braised chicken and I had the stuffed duck in a white wine sauce. We talked for a while about little things.

"Paige," she said right after we were done with our salads, her voice nervous. "Are you ... I mean ... do I ... aw, shit, I'm going to fuck this up, too..."

"Fuck what up?" I asked after a moment.

She took a deep breath. "Do I have a shot at being more than just a friend?"

I looked into her eyes. "I've been wondering that myself ... Listen ... This is all very new for me..."

Her hand reached across the table. I took it.

"I'm not good at relationships," McKayla said quietly. "All the ones I'm in usually end badly."

For a second, I was tempted to say something, but I could see that she was searching for just the right words.

After a false start or two, she began to speak, her voice hushed. "I don't like commitment. I don't like feeling like I'm tied down. Maybe it's because I spent so much time ... wondering if I was normal ... worrying about rejection or people not accepting me because of who I am ... I wish I could explain it."

Very gently, I took her hand in both of mine and gave her a reassuring look. "I'm just the opposite. I fall in love quickly. I like being in relationships. They're safe and secure ... or at least I like to think they are. Sometimes I put up with someone's shit for too long just because I don't want to be lonely. I've been trying out this single thing, but I'm not sure I really like it."

We were silent for a second. She looked away for a second and chuckled to herself. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

I smiled back. My mind flashed back to my last couple of boyfriends.

"Sometimes, I think I like the idea of being in love more than I like the person I'm with," I whispered.

"I like the idea of being in love, too ... I think I'm too chickenshit to do it, though." McKayla gave me a rueful smile. "You know that girl we saw the other night? ... Vicki ... She's my usual pattern. We met at a club, hooked up and then went out a few times. Then I started making excuses not to see her."

As her voice trailed off, I felt that little twinge of jealousy in my stomach again. "Why?"

McKayla looked away. "I don't know ... I think a part of me likes the one night stands ... I can't get hurt that way."

"I'm not the one night stand type," I said, my voice hardening unconsciously.

"You've never had a one-night stand?"

I just shook my head. That wasn't quite true, but I wasn't about to tell her that. Not then.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Look at me ... I'm a mess."

"You're a beautiful mess," I said softly.

McKayla shot me an appreciative, yet mischievous, smile. "And you're full of shit."

We both took a quick drink, both to avoid having to say anything and to wet our dry mouths.

"Why did you ask me out?" she asked me for the second time.

"Because you're ... I don't know," I stammered. "Because it seemed right."

"I don't want to break your heart," McKayla warned.