Page 6 of One Life to Loathe

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” he replied.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re never going to get a woman like that if you’re not a little nicer to her.”

I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it over to him. He was holding my suitcase hostage at this point. “I don’t want a woman like that,” I assured him.

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t.”

“You might be able to fool her with that ‘I’m too cool for school’ thing, but you’re not going to fool me. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

“Um…I wasn’t looking at her any specific way.”Was I?I didn’t think I was. Sure, I felt a little bad about ruining her fun. That didn’t mean I was looking at her a specific way. I never looked at anyone in a specific way these days. I just wasn’t in the mood for drama. It used to be that I could find someone to entertain me for a few months, and then they would go on their way when things grew mundane. No hard feelings. As soon as I hit thirty, though, that changed. Now, suddenly, everybody I was dating had questions.

Where is this going?

Do you want kids?

Do you like a split-level or ranch?

I was still trying to reclaim what I had lost. What had been stolen from me by bad stories and celebrity gossip sites. I was not adding to the mayhem … especially with a co-worker. No matter how cute she was.

“I think you’re seeing something that’s not there,” I said to him. “Thanks for the laugh, though.”

He didn’t back down. “She’s pretty,” he said, inclining his head toward the hotel. “Sometimes people are meanest to the ones they like the most because that’s how they protect themselves.”

“Are you a psychologist on the side?” I asked dryly.

“Actually, I am.” He handed over a business card. “I’m just doing this until I have the money to start my own practice.”

The card readAlexander Petruzzi, drive your way to mental health.

I pressed my lips together, then looked up again. “You’re a weird dude, Alexander,” I said finally.

“Call me if you need me. My rates are cheap because I have no overhead at present.” He strolled to the front of the SUV and tipped his little hat. “Just remember what I said. You always hurt the ones who could hurt you.” With that, he hopped in the SUV and took off.

“Geez,” I muttered as I started toward the front door of the hotel. “Who knew you could get therapy from drivers in Massachusetts?” My first instinct was to throw away the card. At the last second, though, I shoved it in my wallet.

I wasn’t going to call him of course—I would never—but it might make for a good laugh when I got back to the West Coast. I was always up for a good laugh.

Inside the hotel, the lobby was surprisingly ornate. The decorations I’d been expecting on the street were present all around me, including in a huge painting on the back wall that seemed to depict some freaky scene of a witch being worshipped by a bunch of dark acolytes.

“Well, that’s cheery,” I said to nobody in particular. When I looked to my right, I found Sam dragging her suitcase onto the elevator. She did not look at me before the door closed, even though I found myself willing her to do just that.

She was easy to rile. That meant I was going to have fun with her. If this town didn’t really have witches, I had to get my kicks somewhere after all. I put that thought out of my head and smiled at the man in the well-dressed suit behind the check-in desk.

“Leo Powell,” I offered. “I’m with the Evermore production.”

“Ah.” The man nodded. “I’m Jax Hunter. I own the hotel.” He inclined his head toward the perky brunette standing at his left. “This is Daisy, my fiancée.”

For her part, Daisy merely rolled her eyes. “You just like telling people we’re engaged,” she said. “This guy doesn’t care that we’re engaged. Why do you keep doing that?”

“Because you saying yes was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Jax replied.

I didn’t crack a smile. Someone else—Sam probably—would’ve found them adorable. I just found them annoying. “I’m checking in.”

Jax lifted his chin, his eyes roaming my face. He didn’t look bothered by my tone. There wasn’t a lot of friendliness there either. “You guys must’ve had a long flight.”

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