Page 11 of Never Let Go

My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say for a long minute. “I, uh, how did you get into that line of work?”

“It’s not work. It’s a calling. I’m not a believer in the concept of work or having a job.”

I frowned. Hard. “You don’t believe in the concept of work?”

“No.” More giggling. “I believe in finding causes to support and supporting those causes with everything I’ve got.”

Which was admirable for worthwhile causes. Hers sounded made up, but even so, how did she live? “What did you do before that?”

Surely, she had to have made her money somewhere else, then. But no. “I get by on positive vibes and support from my communities. We’re a tight-knit group.”

The door opened again, and mercifully, the scent of food pervaded my nostrils. Plates clicked as they were set down in front of us along with her drink. Then the waiter left us alone again and I tried to eat while also still trying to figure out if she was fucking with me.

She had to be.

“I’m glad you’re part of such supportive communities, but I meant what work did you do before the charity stuff?”

You can’t eat or pay rent with positive vibes, lady. “Oh, I’ve never had a job. I told you, I don’t believe in it.”

“Right. Yeah. You did tell me that.” As I tried eating, I was pretty sure I was getting covered in food. After a brief moment of trying, I decided to just grab a burger on the way home. This isn’t working for me.

“Tyler?”

“Yep?”

“Do you want to make out a little bit?”

What? “We can’t. It’s against the rules, but also, no. I don’t want to. Uh, in fact, I think I’m going to head out.”

I got up, hit the buzzer in the same moment, and then strode to where I was fairly confident the door was located. “Thank you for coming tonight, Dana. I wish you the best of luck with this process going forward, but I’m not the guy you’re looking for.”

Oddly, she started giggling again and I wondered if she was high. Or otherwise intoxicated. Either way, I wasn’t sticking around to find out.

When I got into my car, I glanced down and realized that I didn’t have as much food on me as I’d thought I did, but I ignored the splatters that had fallen and called my brother instead. “What the hell was that?”

“What the hell was what?”

“The date, asshole,” I growled as I turned over my engine. “That was awful. After all the help I gave you with—”

“You were a ninety-three-percent match with this woman,” he swore. “Maybe you should’ve given her more time. Your hour isn’t even up yet.”

“And she was twenty minutes late, which should tell you exactly how bad it was.”

Porter sighed. “Don’t bail on her this early, man. Go back and give her another chan—”

“Never. I may not give you another chance either. I know Hope is good at her job, but I’m starting to wonder how that’s possible. Do you think she pranked you?”

“Never,” he breathed, but then he ended the call, presumably to track her down to ask.

I tossed the phone down on the passenger seat as I gunned it toward my apartment. It probably wasn’t all Porter’s fault that the date had gone so badly. It wasn’t even Dana’s. Her ideals and beliefs and my own didn’t line up at all, and I knew we definitely hadn’t been a ninety-three-percent match, but over and above all that, when I’d walked into that restaurant, I’d done it with the secret hope that Shelby would be my date.

I’d known it was completely unrealistic, but I’d still hoped. It was a hope I had to vanquish before I went on the next one. If I went on another one.

I needed to get that woman out of my mind, but this date seriously hadn’t done it, and I was starting to wonder if any of them would. With Shelby, it felt like there was unfinished business and I didn’t know if I’d be able to walk away again without at least trying to finish it this time.

6

SHELBY