Page 51 of The Mistakes I've Made
Because I feel drawn to you…
“Because I don’t know anyone else on this island,” I answered. “And I guess I needed a friend.”
“A friend?” He seemed amused by the word.
“Yes,” I answered. “A friend.”
“And you think we can be friends? We usually can’t make it through five minutes without pissing each other off.”
Or wanting to tackle one another to the ground…
“I really don’t have a lot of other options.”
That wasn’t entirely true, and I knew it. Molly and I had chatted on several occasions. I could have easily called her tonight.
But I hadn’t.
I’d come to Taylor.
“I thought you said you didn’t have time for distractions.”
My brows furrowed.
“Today, in my office,” he said. “After we—”
“Oh.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Friends aren’t distractions,” I said simply.
He looked doubtful as he eyed me, indecision written all over his face, until he finally said, “Well then, as yourfriend, can I tell you what an awful mistake you’re making with Jake Halladay?”
I let out a laugh. “No, definitely not.”
“What?” His laughter joined mine. “Why not?”
“Because you’ve had it out for him from the moment you saw him, and I don’t think it has anything to do with friendship.”
“He seems like a jerk.”
“You’re just jealous,” I said.
He didn’t reply, but the way he looked at me told me that, yes, he was very jealous indeed.
Soon, our waiter was at our table, taking drink orders, and my head was spinning from all the different beer options. Luckily, my new friend, Taylor, helped me out, picking out several North Carolina pale ales he thought I’d like.
After the waiter disappeared to go grab our drinks, we were once again alone, and I was left with the rare opportunity of a topic change.
One I took and ran with.
“Did you always know you wanted to be a fisherman? I mean, is that what you call yourself? I know you don’t do, like, typical fisherman stuff. Is that the right title?” I was rambling, and the smile on Taylor’s face told me he knew it as well.
“No to the first question,” he said. “And yes, I still consider myself a fisherman, although not in the commercial sense of the word.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
His lip curled. “When my father ran the business, we were strictly a commercial fishing company and supplied most of the seafood for the restaurants and locals on the island. But we’ve since had to make changes to keep up with the times.”
“Something to do with those financial difficulties you mentioned?”
He shrugged. “Adapt or die, right?”
