Page 40 of Love & Other Disasters

“I went looking for you, I found Jill, and she wrapped her arms around me, crying because Geoff hadn’t come looking for her. And he showed up and assumed I was interested in your sister… I’m not, by the way.”

“MMA, huh?” she asked, wanting to avoid him moving into the territory that he was interested in her. Against all odds, he was still there, and that, she didn’t know what to do with. “How does that differ from boxing?”

“Well,” he sat back, “in boxing you only use fists. In MMA, they allow things like kicking and grappling.”

“You realize that’s crazy, right?” The waiter appeared with their pitcher of margaritas. With their glasses full and meals ordered, she settled back in the booth seat.

“MMA’s a good workout,” he said. “A stress reliever.”

“There are less violent means of stress relief.”

‘Yeah, but I’ve been single for a little while,” he smiled and heat rose in Violet’s chest and her face went hot. He laughed.

“Is that all there is with you men? Violence or sex?”

“I’m a simple man.” He shrugged. “I needed a lot of heavy bag workouts after I found you working at Medi-Health and with another name.”

Violet grimaced. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she muttered. Their meals arrived in time to save her for now. The conversation was coming, getting answers were his whole point in being there. Maybe he didn’t want her. That was her imagination. He simply needed answers.

The waiter admonished them with the standard “hot plate” warning, asked if they needed anything else, and hurried away, checking on every table in the section.

After a few minutes of silent eating, J.P. asked, “Jill’s your only sibling, right?”

Violet nodded. “Thank goodness. I don’t know if I could handle any more siblings. You?”

“One brother; he and his wife have three kids and another on the way.”

“That’s a lot of kids.”

“Yeah,” he said, stirring his rice. “I don’t know what they’re thinking. They’re in Illinois with my mom, up by Chicago.”

“What about your dad?”

“He left years ago. They divorced when I was ten and haven’t seen him since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” A pang went through her heart. Her parents staying married for as long as they have had become a rarity, and she was lucky to still have that.

“After twenty years, it’s become normal,” he shrugged.

“So you’ve turned thirty,” she smiled.

“Guilty as charged,” he sipped the margarita.

“When’s your birthday?”

“A few months ago.”

“Before or after?”

He slid her sly smile. “You’re trying to find out if you’ve slept with an old geezer.”

A laugh burst out of her. “You’re hardly old. Have you seen you?”

This brought a laugh out of J.P. He finished his drink and leaned forward. “So tell me, Ms. Violet Murphy, why did you play along that your name was Katia?”

Violet sobered, the laughter drying up in her throat. Studying the salt rim on her glass, the boisterous atmosphere of the establishment around her faded away. “I regret that,” she whispered.

“In the moment you were some strange man in a bar, and I don’t get hit on that often… I thought you were looking at Elle. Everyone looks at Elle.” She could feel his eyes on her, but she focused on her glass. Hell she’d just out with the truth and that would solve her problem of him ever wanting to date her. “She said you were looking at me, and I said a guy that looks like you dates supermodels named Katia. And by the time Brent came in, and we figured out who you were… well it seemed easier to save face and go along with the name. It escalated from there.”

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