Page 34 of Just a Distraction

Maybe you didn’t intend for your offer to share some Italian food with me to sound like a request to go on a date.

But in case you meant for it to be a date, I’m sorry. I truly can’t date anyone. Although, I wouldn’t say no to a spontaneous bite or two of any sort of creamy, carby pasta if someone held out a fork of it in my face (and a napkin because I’m a messy eater). I’m not a fascist, Milo. I do have principles around refusing creamy carbs.

Which leads me to my next point: Is that what the “K” stands for? Karbs? Or maybe just “Karb”? Or maybe your parents are purists, and therefore, it would be: “Karbohydrate.”

Rose

P.S. I like my job here at Tate. I heard good things about the work environment here and so far, it’s proven to be true.

P.P.S. Glad to hear all your manly bits are in working order. That was a close call! Maybe we should write up a public service announcement so others can learn from your mishap.

P.P.P.S. Bravo for making a decision on which job to take! I know it was difficult to decide. And I sorta like that you enjoy writing.

My grin is goofy as I fold up the letter. I shouldn’t be grinning. She shut me down. She doesn’t want to date me. And I’m worried about how hard her life seems to be at the moment.

But, I’m not feeling the pressure inside of me, like before, when I’d start to develop feelings for a woman and things were up in the air. A frenetic brand of stir-crazy, ofI have to figure this out right now, and I have to know how she feels, and we have to be dating!

This is bigger than that, anyway. It’s different.She’sdifferent. As much as my first instinct is to drive up to Denver, get a double order of pasta carbonara and two forks and appear outside the housekeeping office to share a bite with her right now, it’s okay.

For now, if she’ll have me, writing letters is enough. I’ve thought every single day of the kiss we shared and would love for it to happen again, but this is good for now.

I’ve just started feeling proud of myself for such a mature and logical viewpoint, when, a little later, I head down to the main floor, turn the corner to the corporate offices, and run right into a housekeeping cart.

“Oh! Sorry about th—” Rose comes to standing from crouching behind the cart. She’s in her housekeeping uniform, pale purple clothes that resemble scrubs. Which makes me think she’s going to look amazing as a nurse . . .

“Rose?” I can’t stop the broad grin. “I just got your letter. I—”

She glances behind her, chewing on her bottom lip. Her shoulders hunch.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“You’re not going to believe it.”

“Uh. Try me. I just—”

She whispers “Who was bugging me the last time we were together?”

“Blaine The Putz Scano.”

She shushes me. “His mom is over there. So yes, I was hiding behind this housekeeping cart like a total baby.”

“She’s here?” I search the lobby with my gaze. “Why?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” She sighs, rubbing her eyes. “Probably to try to convince me to get back together with her son? She came here the other day, too.” Her eyes plead with me. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Of course. If you think you’ll be okay . . .” I take a step backward.

“It’s fine. Sorry. It’s been a long . . . I don’t know . . . It’s been a long couple of years, to tell you the truth. I do need to go talk with her, so can we chat later?” She smooths back her hair and glances again at Blaine’s mom.

“Sure. Yes.”

Why is that woman here anyway? It feels like there’s a lot about this situation that I don’t know.

Rose steps around the cart. “I’ll fill you in when I can.”

She maneuvers the cart so that it’s out of the center of the hall, parks it, and leaves, her shoulders squared. I hold back, turned half away.

I’ll stay out of it for now, but I can’t help scanning the lobby so I can see what we’re dealing with here.

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