Page 27 of Accidental Blind Date
Scare tactic. That’s all it is. Keep your chin up, kid.
My eyes swell with hot, annoying tears. I’m not a crier. Never have been. But this is hard. “I’m trying. But Kai gave it all away.”
Kai’s never had your heart. Hard kid, that one. Pain in my ass if I’m being honest.
“Yeah, well, he’s still a pain in my ass,” I dab my eyes and sniff, pulling the handkerchief from my pocket. Yes, I still use handkerchiefs. I use handkerchiefs and I paint my walls and shelves bright colors, and I eat all the chocolate out of trail mix, and I never want to stop doing story time.
He can’t take it from you.
Those words stop me. Because right now, with his thick wallet and his big name it sure feels like he can. I bend down to pick up a stray puppet and when I do, my eyes land on a flower painted in the corner. Painted by me when I was six. I run my hand over it, still remembering the brush strokes.
I painted it for my mom. I didn’t know much about her and barely remembered her, but I did it for her.
With that I sit down on the floor, looking around the shop from the point of view of the artist child I once was.
You’re still an artist, Libby Love. You’re just a fighter now too.
The tears spill but I swallow back the rest of the emotion that comes with it.
“I know. And I will fight for it, Dad. I promise you that.”
Chapter 7
Dax
“So, then I said ‘neither of you has to leave, ladies. I can handle both of you at the same time.’ And I tell you what, brother, the way those girls looked at–hey. Dax. What planet are you on?”
Kai snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I blink.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was just thinking about work.”
“Of course you were,” he says, shaking his head.
Somehow, despite being exhausted and having a million things on my plate, both at home and at work, I let Kai convince me to go out tonight. We are at a sports brewery downtown, a place we used to come all the time when we first started working together.
Things were different then.
I was a full-blown bachelor and living the life too. I was making loads of money (though not as much as I am now) because as it turns out, the world wanted more big box bookstores. Easy enough. I wasn’t a big reader (unless it was business related and even then I was more of an audio and podcast kind of guy) but that wasn’t the point.
Turns out, in the business world, you don’t need to care about what you’re selling. You just need to know how to sell it.And between you and me– and Kai– I am very good at selling things. Unless it’s a lie. To Kai’s face. In that department, I am still lacking.
“I think you’ve got something else on your mind,” he says, diving into his burger the moment the waitress sets it down.
I wait until she’s situated things, thank her, and then take a bite of my BLT.
“Like what?” I ask. “You know my life. What the hell else do I have time or space for?”
“Getting laid,” he says, taking a swig of his beer while winking at a girl as she passes us. I’m not going to lie. Kai is a good-looking dude. He’s in his mid thirties but could easily pass as 29. He’s got dark brown, spiked hair, the perfect five-o’clock shadow and a fuckboy grin. Oh, and not a gray hair in sight.
He’s a dick.
But he’s my best friend. For reasons I can’t quite defend, the man has been with me through thick and thin.
“Not interested,” I say, taking a sip of my own beer to wash the sandwich down.
“When’s the last time you got off?” he presses. “And not using your own hand?”
I shoot him a look to kill as a couple more girls pass our table, giggling at his words.
