Page 31 of The One for Forever

“Uh, yeah. Itch in my throat.” She coughs a few times. “All good.”

I pull up in front of Quinn’s apartment building. There’s already a discreet SUV in the parking lot, manned by two bodyguards from our team. I wave at them, noticing with satisfaction that neither one is Leon, my younger coworker who wanted to give Quinn a tour earlier today. I might have dropped a request with our scheduler to prioritize Leon for a different assignment.

Maybe I should feel bad about that, but I don’t. It seems I’m especially protective of this particular client. Quinn deserves the very best.

“The guys will be here tonight, keeping an eye out. They’ll have a shift change around midnight. You have the main Bennett Security numbers to use if you have any issues, and they’ll connect you to the car on duty.” I suppress the urge to ask her tocall me directly. If she’s in danger, she should call the main line. Our operators will ensure the fastest response, and that likely wouldn’t be me if I’m off duty.

“Right. Sylvie’s assistant explained everything.”

“Excellent.” I shift the truck into Park. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.” I’ll be driving her to and from the courthouse, as well as providing her personal protection while she’s at work during the day. It’s pretty much what we discussed this morning, with some refinements that we made with Max and Lana this afternoon.

“Thanks.”

Quinn reaches for the door handle. Our conversation is finished. But for some reason I ask, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Nope. You’ve touched all the bases. I mean,” she stammers, “made all the arrangements. Uh. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Rex.” She’s out of the door and halfway to her building before I can respond.

I’m not sure what that was. That odd spike of tension there.

But I find myself wishing I had some excuse to stick around longer. Quinn’s heading into an empty apartment, and I’m about to head home to an empty house.

Hell, maybe I do need a girlfriend. Or a hobby or a pet or something. Because my mind has been in a strange, restless place the last couple of days.

That night,I make myself a dinner of seared skirt steak over salad greens. And against my better judgment, I download a dating app and scroll through the questionnaire as I’m eating.

“Am I looking for hookups, casual dating, or do I want to findthe one?” I ask myself aloud. I’m sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of Malbec beside me. One of my favorite jazz albums plays low in the background. It’s my comfort zone.

But damn, it’s quiet.

All right. It’slonely. I can admit that. And Max’s words at the gala have stuck with me. It’s time for me to try finding someone new. If only so that I’m not alone in this big house, night after night. Like I have been since Cliff went off to college.

On my app profile, I select dating, since hookups aren’t me and a long-term relationship feels like too big a step since I’m just dipping my toes in. I haven’t dated in, what, thirty years? Jeez. Just thinking that number could give me hives.

Back when Lydia and I got together, we didn’t exactly date. It was high school. We just hung out in our group of friends and talked on the phone at night until I got up the nerve to kiss her. It was all pretty straightforward.

Thisisn’t straightforward. The elaborate quiz I’m supposed to fill out. Then coming up with profile pictures and pithy remarks to convey the right impression.

I am so out of my element.

It’s not like I’ve had no sex at all since Lydia died. I’ve had partners here and there. But the truth is, I can survive without getting naked with another person. Even when I was with my wife, the flame between us was more smoldering than a wildfire. But my dynamic with Lydia was wonderful. I remember waking up and smiling at each other. Morning kisses. Bringing her coffee. Just caring for her, checking on her throughout the day. Even when I was deployed, I tried not to let a day go by without reminding her in some small way that I loved her. It wasn’t always possible, but the intention was there. She did the same for me.

That’s what I miss the most. Having someone to share my life with. I don’t expect to find another great love. That seems like a once in a lifetime kind of thing. But the companionship? The sex, sure, but also the cuddling and daily affection. I guess Iamready for it.

If I can just get through this stupid quiz.

Taking a bite of steak, I scroll through the questions. My personality, my likes and dislikes.What age range am I looking for?That gives me pause for a moment. Twenty is way too young. What would I have in common with a twenty-year-old?

Twenty-five is a little better. But still a bit young.

Quinn is twenty-eight.

I jump slightly at that voice in my head, wondering where that thought came from. But…I guess it’s a relevant guidepost. Quinn and I get along well. Right? She’s making strides in her career. She’s old enough to know what she wants.

A buzzy feeling spreads through me as I consider all the ways Quinn has grown up. As I’ve been doing way too much lately. I can’t seem to get my mind off her, even when I’m off duty.

Back to the quiz, I tell myself. I settle on marking twenty-seven to fifty years old, then move on.

After setting up a half-assed profile, I swipe through my matches. Many of these women look nice. Some of their profiles are snarky, others earnest. There’s nothing wrong with any of them on the surface. Some, I think I could enjoy having dinner with. Hopefully an intelligent conversation. But nobody sparks more than a passing interest. Am I too picky? Am I not as ready as I thought?

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