Page 23 of False Promises

The server met with us, and I handed him my credit card.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Rosie, pointing to her plate. “Keep eating. I’ll just be a minute.”

In the men’s room, I splashed cold water over my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My gray irises, the same shade as Jeff’s and Jack’s, looked back at me.

“What are you doing, Carter? You’ve been on three dates so far this week, and none of them have held your interest for more than an hour. Get your groove back.”

Rosie sounded like a nice girl, if you forgot about the fact she hadn’t gotten over her teen years yet. Her smile was enticing, and her eyes shone with sparks. She was my accountant’s niece. Last Friday, we ran into each other when she was in his office, filling out her taxes. We chatted while her uncle was on the phone, and I asked her out on a date. Unlike Theresa on Monday, who I met through common friends, at least Rosie wasn’t just pretty, she could hold a full conversation, however inane it might be.

With a shake of my head, I exited the confinement of the suffocating restroom.

When I neared the table, Rosie was deep in conversation with the server, who I noticed was slipping a piece of paper into her hand. I bet it was his phone number. Maybe between the two of us, someone was getting lucky tonight.

The thought helped me feel less like a motherfucker about to ditch a girl I had no interest in.

While I stowed my credit card back into my wallet, Rosie cleared her throat. “Listen, Carter. I had a great time tonight. But I’m not sure we’re…connecting.” She fidgeted with her napkin. “I’m sorry, but I think we should each go our separate ways.” She offered me a timid smile. “Are we okay?”

I sighed. “Yeah, all fine.”

She moved to her feet and hugged me. “Thanks for dinner. I still had a lovely time.”

I nodded, and before I exited, I spotted the server, probably having finished his shift, meeting Rosie.

Tonight, I played matchmaker. At least my night wasn’t a total loss.

Climbing into my SUV, I drove around for the next few hours, blasting rock music so loud my eardrums were at risk of bursting. It silenced the nagging voices in my head.

Why couldn’t I date like a normal guy my age? I wasn’t sixty-five, but twenty-one. With baggage. And an unavailable heart. But still, I couldn’t be that much of a loser in the relationship department, right?

Dating. For a long minute, I wondered if I, someday, would be able to go through with it. And meet a girl I would fall head-over-heels for. Someone who wasn’t Dahlia. But who would send my heart into overdrive just the same.

Just the thought was enough to send my mind spiraling.

And my breath halting.

Lyla, a woman I had invited as my plus-one to events in the past and who lived in Los Angeles, texted me after I stopped to fuel my vehicle.

Lyla: I’m in town for less than twenty-four hours. Just got here. Leaving in the morning. Wanna meet up?

She was the only woman I had regular sex with. She wasn’t interested in a serious relationship nor was she moving to Nashville, and our agreement suited me, for now, so I wasn’t complaining.

Me: Text me the address. I can be there in about twenty minutes.

Glad to have given Taylor the night off after my dead-end date, I merged into the highway and exited fifteen minutes later. Once I got to the hotel Lyla was staying at, I handed over my black SUV to the valet.

“Hey you,” I said after she opened the door.

“Ohmygod, Carter. Sorry, but you look like shit. Everything all right?”

I dropped a kiss on her lips and sat on the edge of the bed once I shut the door behind me. “Bad night. I was on a date, and she left with the server instead of me.”

Lyla’s eyes widened. “For real?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yep. Said we weren’t compatible or some shit like that.”

“Wow. You can’t accuse this one of being a groupie.”

“Well, yeah. Anyway, I had no interest in taking things further with her, so it’s fine. Whatever. It wasn’t meant to be”