Page 5 of Over Time Advantage

She sighs. “My friend wrote, acts of vacation and words of booking confirmation.” She rolls her eyes. “Those are not love languages.”

I chuckle. “I suppose. What’s your real love language?”

“Hmm,” she contemplates briefly, “I suppose quality time. It was missing from my marriage.” She gasps and covers her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Maybe your honesty thing is rubbing off on me.”

“Why is that a secret?”

She licks her lips nervously. “I prefer to never speak ill of my ex-husband. We have a great co-parenting relationship, and, no matter what, he will always be my daughter’s father.”

I nod. “I feel the same about my ex, but if it’s something that was missing, you’re entitled to your feelings. I don’t think it’s necessarily a negative about him. More of a…compatibility issue.”

She gives me a small smile as she returns her attention to her phone. “Maybe you’re right, but it’s kind of a boring answer. I want to put something totally random. It doesn’t have to be true—it’s not like I’m really going to engage with this dating app.”

She happily types away before I see her deleting the long walks in the park answer. “Hmm, what do I want to say I like to do in my spare time?” Her brow adorably creases. “Maybe…line dancing,” she perks up. “Yes, that. I’ve never done it before, but let’s pretend I did and it’s my favorite thing in the world.”

She completes her answer and then moves on to the next question, reading it aloud. “What earns him a second date?”

I look at her, wanting to know the answer. “Well?”

“Making me laugh, for sure. Having fun is up there too. I don’t need a stuffy, fancy restaurant. I don’t like it when men throw money around like that. It’s boring. I prefer creative, thoughtful dates. And no games. I’m too old for games. Either we connect or we don’t.” She gives me a small shrug. “It’s pretty simple. I’m almost forty. I know what I like and what I don’t like. Why would anyone want to pretend to be something they’re not at this point in life?”

I exhale a long breath. “You’d be surprised.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“Money. A lot of women out there want a man for his money, not him.”

She nods in understanding. “Is that what happens to you? Women want you for your fame and fortune?”

I nod sadly, but don’t admit that’s all my ex-wife ever wanted from me, because I, too, won’t speak ill of the mother of my children.

She places her hand over mine. “I’m sorry, Jett. I never thought of it that way. I’m sure when you’re famous, it’s not easy to know people’s true intentions. All I see is a sweet, handsome man who I assume has a line of women wanting to date him.”

Her hand is so feminine and soft. It’s tiny, not even covering half of my huge one. Unable to help myself, I pick it up and kiss it before admitting, “There’s no line of women, and if my son didn’t ask me to put off dating until after he graduates from high school, I’d ask you out right now. In fact, I’m considering disregarding his wishes because you’ve got me in a bit of a trance.”

She visibly swallows. “If you didn’t work with my ex’s clients and have the kind of job you have to be married to, I would have said yes, but we both know what’s involved in coaching a professional football team. I won’t ever be with another man who can’t unplug from his job.”

It’s my turn to nod in understanding. She’s not wrong. I have very little free time, which is half the reason I don’t date. I’ve done my best to find time for my son, Pierce, these past few years, but I know it’s why my daughter, Kennedy, hates me. I was a terrible father to her when she was growing up. I was never home and missed everything important to her in her life.

We continue to stare at each other. I can’t say I’ve ever been more attracted to a woman than I am to her. It’s awakening something in me that has been dormant for as long as I can remember.

Her attention shifts back to her phone. “I’m certainly not putting my real name.”

“Agreed. I would never do that either.”

“Hmm, I need a good name.”

“What about a favorite movie character?” I suggest.

She nods before her eyes light up, and she gasps. “I’ve got it. Diane Court.”

I chuckle, understanding the eighties movie reference.

She smiles. “Yep. Diane Court. Username SaySomething. Under forty and seeking a nine-to-five kind of man.”

We spend the next thirty minutes filling out her fake answers. She replaces half her photos with those of fictional or historical characters. We laugh throughout it all.

We pass the glass of wine back and forth until we’ve kicked the entire bottle. It’s given her an adorable case of the giggles. I’m officially smitten.