Page 19 of Santa Baby Maybe
Because why would he?
* * *
W.B.
Don’t look back.Do not turn around and see if she’s watching you!
I walked out of the building and turned onto the sidewalk, congratulating myself on my discipline. My hand was still tingling from her touch when I shoved it into my pocket. What the hell was happening?
There was no way I could be attracted to Joy Knews. Yes, she was by definition an attractive woman, who obviously didn’t realize that about herself as she liked to hide behind her long hair and baggy clothes. But being attractive and being attracted to someone were two different things.
She made porn ornaments. She brought her cat to work. She ate veggie dogs and thought they were delicious.
No, no, and no.
She was nice to talk to, that was all. After I’d left yet another disappointing date, the idea to head to the office, to see her, had driven me. I could tell her how messed up the date was and she would be a sympathetic ear.
It wasn’t like you could talk to other guys about this shit. Wes would laugh his ass off if I told him half of went down on these dates. And my Army buddies, hell, they would have a field day just knowing I was using a dating service to find a wife.
Whereas, I thought it made perfect sense. Clean, efficient, and effective. Identify for me, in the city of Denver, eligible women who met my very specific criteria and let me date them until I found one that stuck. It was a solid plan.
What I didn’t need to spend time thinking about was how easy it was to talk to Joy. Because that avenue was dead to me beyond friendship. Which, considering how I’d treated her when we first met, like an utterly dismissive asshole, it was surprising she would even offer.
Although also not surprising because she was Joy.
At first I’d thought it best to avoid her completely. If I didn’t see her, I couldn’t interact with her. Couldn’t argue with her or get flummoxed by her. I had enough work to do and an isolated office, so I didn’t have to worry about running into her if I didn’t want to.
It had been working great, except for one thing.
I’d realized I missed seeing her. I’d missed her peasant blouses and flowing skirts. I’d missed her pink painted toenails and toe rings. I’d missed her energy and the way she expressed all her emotions on her face without holding anything back.
I had to admit I’d sent her that email about dropping one of the golden rings from the line mostly to get a reaction from her. A reaction from her on the morning before my lunch date with Jacklyn.
None of these admissions were helping.
Joy was not for me. I knew that deep down in my bones. She reminded me too much of my mother, and that relationship had been nothing but toxic. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t be with someone who even remotely considered herself an artist and a free spirit. Maybe Joy was right, that I was trying to force her into a category, but part of that was for my own self-preservation. So I wouldn’t fall under her spell.
I continued to walk along the streets of Denver instead of calling for an Uber to head home because the cold air felt good on my face. I needed to clear my head of Joy. I needed to stop thinking about how, when she’d reached for my hand, it felt good.
Tingly good.
I had resisted the urge to hang with her and eat preposterously tiny sandwiches. That was a good thing. We would be friendly coworkers as opposed to unfriendly coworkers. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, it made good business sense.
But that was all we would be. It was all I would let us be.
