The fact that she made this beeline for me both warmed my soul and made me want to turn around, walk out the door, and find a cliff to fling myself off of.

Returning my voice to a conversational level, I called back, “Nora, I’m not
attempting to embarrass you or single you out. I know you’re capable. But stay behind Chas, okay? You die, you d i e permanently, and for various reasons that we’ve already gotten angsty about together, I don’t want that to happen.”
“Okay, okay,” she sighed.
“Angsty?” Chas asked. “Ooh! Later, details!”
“Yes, later.” With that, I waved the team forward.

No, not really. But …” Okay, I couldn’t help but gloat a little. “She likes me.”
Samedi didn’t even look at me. “Well of course, you’ve had that bloody uniform on all day. I was half ready to tell you how much I liked you.

Trying, trying, always trying. Trying was my life. I was guaranteed nothing.

So is that why you’re hanging out here? To seduce bookish chicks?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Is it working?

Late twenties, single, female. Do the math.
Flirty flings were fabulous until you hit the big three-O, all downhill
from there. Biological clocks started ticking like time bombs waiting to
detonate, gravity exerted more force on your life than your mom, and
suddenly, the dog-ugliest creep looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.