11. Hayworth
ELEVEN
HAYWORTH
“So…nothing happened?”
I turn to Jason and shake my head. Last night was well and truly a bust. Just when I started thinking I could read the guy, he went and did or said something that completely derailed both my plans and my understanding of him.
“Well, we had dinner,” I offer, which makes Jason chuckle.
I’m not sure what part of that is funny but he gets a little slap on the shoulder anyway.
“You’re in an awfully good mood for someone who didn’t get laid.”
I purse my lips from side to side and think back to last night. Not that I’ve been able to get it out of my head anyway. No matter what I tried or said, Felix didn’t let me have it. He called me out on everything. You’d think I’d be annoyed by that, but I actually had a good time. Even when he didn’t seem to take me too seriously.
“Shut up. You know me. I’m not a grump.”
“You are when it comes to love.”
I look at my friend and huff. “Who said anything about love?”
Jason rolls his eyes with a scoff.
Even though last night was a complete fiasco, there were moments, small, fleeting moments, where I felt him slipping away from his dad role. There were times when he looked up at me as if he wanted to eat me up. And not in the Armie Hammer way.
But then, he’d shake his head, bite his lip and go back to raised eyebrows and discreet facepalms he thought I didn’t catch.
He’s an enigma. An enigma I want to solve, but can’t or won’t.
It’s pretty clear last night was the only date we’ll ever be on, which is fine by me. I’d hate to do more dates with a guy who doesn’t like me. I’d hate to do more dates, full stop. The only reason I accepted in the first place was so I didn’t disappoint his girls and because I really thought it would have a happy ending. But he’s made it abundantly clear he’s not interested in that, no matter how he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
I park the car several feet away from the bus as usual. The last thing I need is any customers to confuse my car as part of the attraction and smash it to pieces. There’s a cluster of people in front of the bus, waiting, chatting and some, looking our way as we get out.
“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a line,” Jason comments and I have to agree.
I’ve been running the Smash Bus for as long as I can remember and while I’ve had teams come together as a team-bonding experience, I’ve never had so many people all in one go. Heck, not even all in one day.
“I guess people are catching up,” I say.
“With what?” Jason raises an eyebrow.
“With love being a dickhead.”
He groans and I shove him away as I walk up to the front and greet everyone.
“There’s only so much space inside, so if you’re a big group you may have to be split up in smaller ones,” I tell them and it’s not long before I’ve taken their money and the first group goes in the abandoned bus at the edge of the forest and goes to town.
The bus has always been here. Or at least it feels that way. The town didn’t seem to want anything to do with it, or to get rid of it. It has been a place for rebellious teens to gather round and party, drink, smoke, or do all three for longer than I’ve been alive. And when I offered to turn it into a rage room the town was more than happy to let me if it meant less 9-1-1 calls and less worried parents.
“Have you put up the Valentine stuff already?” Jason asks, glancing at the bus, where groans, grunts and absolute mayhem are coming from.
“I was gonna do it before I opened up, but I guess it’s a job for tonight.”
I have a whole lot of sickening love paraphernalia to dress the bus for the season. There’s nothing more cathartic than tearing all those red hearts and chubby winged boys into pieces.
“So, you’re not seeing this guy again?”
I shake my head.
“And how do you feel about that?”
I grimace. “How do you want me to feel? I don’t care.”
He stares at me for longer than comfortable and I try to keep my composure, as if moving will give away my true feelings, which is stupid because I truly don’t care.
Would I have loved a night in the sack with Felix? Of course. Who wouldn’t? Am I going to let that get me down? Of course not. Does that mean I’m not allowed to fantasize about him when I’m home alone? Hell to the no.
“Do you care about the blog?” he asks and when I look at him I see him holding his phone in his hand.
I groan and bite down a curse.
“What did I do now?”
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly care what Maplewood Matters writes about me, whoever the hell is behind that gossip blog, but I do care that they’re trying to turn everything I do in this town into a big, ugly deal.
Sure. Ambushing the speed-dating event is not proper behavior, but they don’t just write about my Anti-Valentine Club. They write about me. About my work. About my gym routine. About my relationship with Mom. It’s relentless and naturally every February they have another excuse to write about me and my “silly, little club.”
“You went on a date, of course.” Jason shows me his screen and I’m able to read the headline.
“Hayworth seen with a new man: does he know he’s trouble?”
“For fuck sake!” I spit out before I can control myself. “How do they know it’s a date? What if it was a business meeting? What if he was just a friend? What if it was someone I was genuinely interested in dating?”
“Are you? Interested in dating him?” Jason locks his phone and puts it into his pocket, turning his undivided attention to me.
“What? No! Of course not! I was just saying if I were…”
“I thought you were never ever in the history of ever going to be interested in dating again.”
I frown. “I’m not.”
“But you just said?—”
“What does that have to do with anything? I was talking about Maplewood Matters and its determination to ruin my reputation.”
Jason narrows his eyes and purses his lips before he says, “I thought you didn’t care about your reputation as it pertains to your love life.”
“I don’t,” I growl.
“Okay, buddy.”
“Whose side are you on?” I elbow his side.
He backtracks defensively. “Yours. Always.”
I huff and turn, whipping my own phone out. At this point as soon as I type in M on my browser, Maplewood Matters comes up straight away.
I don’t care what they write about me, but what they do write has a way of traveling around town, affecting my family, my friends, and my acquaintances. And more specifically how they see or treat me.
Jack Hayworth was spotted having dinner with another man in town which comes as a surprise to many Maplewoodians who are all aware what he does for a living—breaking people up, in case you didn’t know—nevermind he makes it his mission to ruin everyone’s Valentine year on year. I hope the poor guy he was with knows Hayworth’s attitude about love.
I clench my fist so hard I’m surprised I don’t break my phone.
So this is what it’s come to, huh? Issuing warnings thinly disguised as concern now. What is this vendetta against me, as if I’m the only club member who causes trouble. Even Wells doesn’t get written about as much, and he’s a horndog on top of everything.
I wonder if Felix has read it.
Gosh. Of course he’s read it. He’s mentioned the blog. I’m sure he reads it daily, like most people in town even if they pretend they don’t.
I bet even if he wanted to date me he wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole after that scathing review of my person.
And who would blame him?
Gosh.
Jason is right.
Why do I care? It’s not like I’m interested in dating him. I’m not. I’m not interested in dating anyone ever again, in my life.
Dating only leads to one thing and one thing only. Inconsolable, irrevocable heartache and I’d be a fool to want to go through that again for whatever reason.