Page 76 of Just for Tonight

The silence is awful.

Maybe she’s already married Mr. Wonderful.

Maybe she’s never coming back to Empire.

Maybe it’s none of my fucking business.

But I want to know. I want to talk to her. I pull up her number several times a day, but I do not call.

To be fair, she doesn’t call me either.

This is not rational behaviour. Maybe that’s why it’s driving me crazy. We agreed – it’s over and done. Neither of us wanted more than what has happened, and what has happened was just physical.

Except it wasn’t.

It feels like an open ticket, not a closed one, and I want to know that I’m not the only one feeling that way.

The trouble is, I can’t forget about it.

About her.

Because regardless of what I might tell Mackenzie, regardless of whatever crap falls out of my mouth, I really like being with her. I could hook up just for tonight for another twenty nights. Easy. Why was it easy? I’d been trying to figure that out, but no luck so far.

Because…she’s nice? It is tough to stick with a bitch. Which is not to say that no one should ever be bitchy. It’s often deserved—I’d say it was deserved more often than it’s actually put into action—but constant sniping and complaining does wear a person down. If it’s that bad, why hang around? But Mackenzie not being a bitch doesn’t come close to explaining why just the thought of her gets me right where I live.

Because…she’s more passionate than anticipated? I do like surprises. I like people I can’t quite figure out, the ones who catch me off guard once in a while. I read people well, so that’s rare. Mackenzie’s definitely got that going on—she just surprised me again, come to think of it—but that’s not all of it either.

Because…she’s sexy as hell. That’s big. That’s important. That’s more than enough to justify just one night, maybe even two. But three nights is about more than sexy. It’s not even about smart, even though intelligence is incredibly sexy and Mackenzie is bloody brilliant. Still, that shouldn’t have gotten me to three nights.

There’s something else.

I spin in my bar chair and look out over the sparkling city, spread at my feet from my penthouse condo, and let myself accept the dreaded truth.

I love her.

Maybe there’s nothing I can do; maybe she’s the one and only for me; maybe I’ve fallen so hard I’ll never get up again; maybe, just maybe, the only reasonable choice at this juncture is to deny the truth.

I exhale slowly.

Then I pour myself a Scotch.

Because the problem with falling in love is that it’s like pushing over the first domino in a long line of dominos standing on end. If you admit it, you need to act upon it, and once you act upon it, everything changes. You’re not alone anymore; you’re part of a team. And while I don’t mind being on a team for some projects, I can’t even imagine letting my entire life be governed by committee.

I remind myself that being an asshole is solid. I know where I stand. I know what I want and where I’m going, even how I’m going to get there. I wouldn’t say it’s simple, but it’s a whole fuckton less complicated than navigating a path with someone else’s ambitions and goals as part of the plan.

Look at Mackenzie and her mother’s pick. That’s a perfect example, although I’ll never tell her so. Similar ambitions and experiences, but sited on locations miles apart. There can be only one, as the movie says, and though Mackenzie resented the assumption that she would surrender her goals (and rightly so) the fact is that even with discussion and consultation, the end result might have been the same.

There can be only one driving force, only one set of ambitions. If there are two and they are in competition – instead of in harmony – then one has to be abandoned for the relationship to survive. It is an either-or choice.

The ironic bit is that I would never fall in love with a woman who would gladly give up everything to be my wife and support staff, arm candy at official functions, cheerleader, maybe mother of my kids, certainly manager of my household. My yes-woman. I could never be interested in a woman who didn’t have a little bit of asshole tendency herself.

And maybe that’s why Mackenzie is so very dangerous to my status quo. She’s not just smart and beautiful; she’s not just sexy and full of surprises; she’s got a career and goals of her own. I could never ask her to leave Rhodes Vineyards and move to Toronto. I could never ask her to surrender her place at the helm of her family business. Mackenzie’s earned that, and I respect what she’s accomplished. I know I’ll be awed by her ultimate achievements.

But being with Mackenzie would require a whole lot of compromise, which is not and never will be my strong suit. It’s a trick I don’t want to learn. I negotiate, but that’s because I win. If I was with Mackenzie and I insisted on winning all the time, I’d destroy her.

I’m not that much of an asshole.

On the other hand, if I was with Mackenzie and I surrendered every battle to make her happy, it would destroy me. Even love can’t be worth self-destruction.