Page 2 of Hesi-Dating
"I think your profile said thirty-something, but how old are you? Thirty-five-ish?"
"Something like that." Add three more years to her guess andding-ding-ding. That guy labeling me "old" had me second guessing myself and my decision to try dating again. Sweat trickled down my back.
You can handle this.
I’d been in shootouts without breaking a sweat—except for the time I got shot in the leg two years ago. A painful reminder of that incident flared up by the end of every workday. I'd driven in a few high-speed chases and been threatened by every manner of weapon imaginable, including a roll of wrapping paper and a rattlesnake.
"How can dating benewto you?"
"I was married for a while. Haven’t been on a first date in a long time. This is my first time using a dating app." A friend at work had put up my profile without asking and then dared me to go out with the first person I matched with, which happened to be Joley.
"Are you recently divorced?"
"Yes." I compressed my lips. The admission lit up a neon "Loser" sign over my head.
"Ah." Her chin rose. She did the cutest back-and-forth lip twitch. "That explains how someone like you is single. Getting back in the game must be tough. I've never dated a recently divorced man, nor have I been married, so I don't know." She signaled to the waiter. "Two tequila shots, and we'd like some of the artichoke dip, please."
The bartender poured Jose Cuervo into shot glasses.
Joley pushed a shot glass in front of me. "Drink."
"I don’t do shots."
"You do today. Loosen up. Celebrate single life. This doesn’t mean you’re getting laid. You’re in the penalty box for almost standing me up." She pointed at the shot glass. "Drink. Then you can tell me what kind of criminal you are."
"Why do you think that?"
"You scared the hell out of that jerk with a look. Only criminals or loan sharks can do that."
"Maybe in the movies they can. I didn'tscarehim. I reasoned with him."
"Sounds like something a loan shark like Chili Palmer might say."
"You knowGet Shorty?" I caught myself before making an ageist comment about the movie being too old for her to know about.
"I love nineties stuff. I'm into anything movie related that's not horror or serial killer. I don't do those."
"Do you like action or romantic comedy?" Maybe it wasn't impossible to relate to her.
"Depends on my mood. Nothing better than a B-grade Christmas movie after a bad date to renew my belief in cheesy love."
"You might have to inherit a hotel in Montana and get caught in a snowstorm for it to become reality."
Her eyes brightened and cheeks flushed. A laugh erupted out of her, bright and mesmerizing. "Takes a confident man to admit he watches those made-for-TV cheesy flicks."
I shrugged and swigged the rest of my bourbon.
"What happened?" Her face sobered. She waved at one of the several TV screens behind the bar that was on a news channel showing a clip from earlier today with a lot of cops on the highway. "Looks like something serious."
"A high-speed chase led to several wrecks. One fatality. When we caught up to the speeder, he had a trunk full of meth. The guy turned out to be one of the higher ups in the Bloods, a gang out of LA." Out of respect for sitting with a woman who I was going to stay with for a while, I put my hat on the counter.
"We?You were involved in that?"
"I’m the sheriff. It ranged outside San Diego police jurisdiction. We had to involve the DEA and highway patrol. It was a mess."
"You’rethesheriff of San Diego County?" She tilted her head as if pondering. "You’re joking, right?"
"Does that mean you didn’t vote for me?"
