Page 34 of Legs

My mother would faint at the sight.

“I can’t cancel, Rachel.” Her exasperated tone grated my eardrum.

“Then I hope you have a nice dinner. Invite Mitchell. They were friends in high school.” Dating Jonathan Halitosis Richter would be so much easier than falling for Bad Boy, but I was done with her random set-ups.

When I managed to end the call, Ainsley grabbed my cell and placed it on the table. “As fun as that was to watch, let’s get back to the kiss that didn’t happen. Explain yourself.”

From one ambush to another. My phone lay on the table, Jimmy’s number tucked inside. The number I’d like to sneak away and call right now. I had it memorized. I’d hummed the digits in time to Michael Jackson’s “Bad” all freaking day.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “I was close to caving in and hooking up again, but I’ve gotten to know Jimmy since, and truth is…I like the guy. Like, really like him. And he’s talking about more than a fling. I just don’t see how we could work.”

Gwen stayed silent, assessing me.

Ainsley wasn’t so subtle. “So you’re, like, into him, but you won’t go out again? You’ve dated umpteen guys, always upset when the sparks don’t fly. What am I missing? And if you go out with Jonathan Halitosis Richter, I will unfriend you.”

“That you don’t have to worry about.”

Gwen’s vigil ended. “She’s terrified of her mother and can’t picture Jimmy and his tattoos in her tidy life.”

Damn her observant self. “Something like that.”

At twenty-two, I’d have reveled in taking Jimmy to one of my mother’s luncheons, watching her face turn purple at the sight of him. At twenty-seven, I wasn’t so sure. That very thing had pushed my mother and me apart once, an outcome that would devastate me today. No matter her overbearing tendencies, she was my last living parent. I needed her in my life.

Gwen’s dissection of my psychological behavior didn’t end there. “Is the Gabe Factor an issue, too?”

Ainsley’s blue eyes narrowed, as though she’d caught her stylist applying the wrong highlights. “I still say we should have painted his motorcycle pink.”

I hadn’t accepted that particular offer, but the three of us never hesitated to volunteer our payback services. When Ainsley had confessed that her ex had cheated on her, Gwen and I had filled his door lock with expanding foam.

“Aside from the rough-and-tumble thing,” I said, “Jimmy isn’t like Gabe. He has baggage, though—an ex and some family drama that really messed him up. So it’s a lot, I guess. He’s hot as hell and we have fun, and he has this lost-puppy vibe that’s hard to resist, but simple relationships are hard enough. Add in all this other…stuff, and it just seems too hard.” My father’s saved message added weight to my turmoil. More complications tangling my mind.

Gwen didn’t blink. “Dating him doesn’t mean you have to marry the guy. I get that you’re after something serious, but maybe you need to let loose for a change. You’ve spent the last five years keeping your mother happy. Never stepping out of line. Gabe was a dick, but dating him was you testing yourself. When you drink, and your inhibitions unwind, a different Rachel comes out to play. I think she’s more the real you than you’d like to admit.”

“Do I have to pay for this shrink session now, or can I trade it for wine later?” I could joke all I wanted, but the blunt truth stung, as it had when Jimmy had suggested something similar.

Had my life deteriorated to such an extent? Leapt out of my control? I’d raise hell to see my mother happy and healthy, as well as keep us on good terms. Was losing myself in the process worth it? If I wasn’t careful, I’d wind up as her shadow—big brooches, bigger shoulder pads, football-helmet hair.

My plethora of jobs had been desperate attempts to tap into the elusive something that made me tick. But I’d always come up short. Even now, with the sommelier possibility, doubt crept in. I wasn’t just good at the contest tastings, I was great. Not so with the service exercises. Each loathsome task massaged my insecurities. The whole point of quitting and starting over was to find The Job. The one that would fulfill my resolution by following my dreams, so I could discover if the blackout that night had really been magical and would catapult the rest of my life from fine to sublime.

As much as I loved the tastings, executing a busy night at Crush and running between tables didn’t sound sublime. It didn’t sound like The Job.

But I was too far in, my options too limited.

My wardrobe didn’t appeal to me, either. It was necessity, function over form. Even Jimmy had called me on it. You look sexy as hell in everything you wear, he’d said. But your outfits seem calculated.

He’d also said I’d been wild the night we hooked up.

The more I replayed his words, the more curious I became, longing building in a steady rise. Jimmy could be my ticket. He could help me explore myself, push my boundaries. I just didn’t know if I could offer him more. “If I call him, what would I even say?”

Gwen picked at a callus on her palm. “Set some ground rules. Tell him you’d like to hang out, but you don’t want anything serious. No guy on the planet would say no to that. Then figure things out as you go. No pressure.”

“I don’t know…” But my body did. Anticipation tightened my lower belly, heat gathering. Still, I didn’t make a move.

Ainsley, however, did. She snatched my phone from the table.

I shoved my upturned palm in her face. “Give it here, Ainsley. I’ll call him when I’m ready.”

“I’m staging an intervention and calling now. And if you don’t want people going through your phone, you should lock the thing.” She squinted at the screen. “You did say his name was Jimmy, right? Because it’s not here.”