Gillian's Do-Over Read Online Free Page A

used what you suggested. But is that necessary?” Then she remembered an article in the paper about a woman who’d been robbed of her savings by someone she’d met online.
    “Of course! Anyone you want to know more about, just ask.” He paused. “I gotta go. My ride’s here.”
    “Your ride?”
    “My car’s in the shop,” he explained, “and Bianca’s in court. A big case. I’ll see you this weekend. You can tell me what you think after you check out those guys.”
    T he dial tone confirmed her son had ended the call. Before she said she’d been fired. Wrong word. Now retired. Or just plain tired.
    Gillian stared back at the list of unwelcome entries on her site. The first picture showed a man who had to be at least seventy , with bags under his eyes. His hair consisted of overly bushy eyebrows. She sighed and looked out the window. Since when do I care what they look like? But she did.
    She skipped to the next profile. Hmm. Was this one Quinn would say looked interesting? He was her age, still working, but he was married. Married ? This was supposed to be a site for singles. She deleted him from the queue, and proceeded down the line.
    The next picture showed a man with a broad smile. He seemed kind of pudgy to her, but his bio said he was looking for a friend, someone to share activities with, though he hadn’t said which ones, and he lived in Seattle. Near her, maybe? A local guy. Hmm. Divorced, like her, three children, one of whom lived with him. Would a live-in child be a complication?
    She clicked on the next picture and deleted him immediately after reading that he liked kinky sex. Good heavens! Definitely a turnoff. That left three people who’d sent little winks. Here was one calling himself “Homebody.” A nice picture. The man had a full head of graying hair and a pleasant face, kind of angular but not gaunt, though it was hard to tell from the way his hat was pulled down, hiding half of his face. He reminded her of that man at the park with Adelaide. Too bad someone like him wasn’t trolling online for a female friend. She recalled thinking there was something sad about him, and wondered why.
    Gillian went back to Homebody. Quinn might like him. But for just that reason, she skipped his profile. I’m not going to give him ammunition to quiz me. She checked out the last three messages in the queue and closed the laptop. Should she tell Lauren what Quinn had said so the two of them could laugh about it? Or would Lauren tell her to go for it, maybe even offer to help her write back to some of those men?
    She opened up her bucket list file. What should she do about that? Make travel plans, maybe? She’d always wanted to see the Grand Canyon. And the Alaska wilderness, though she’d never been one who liked the cold . Didn’t they have big bears up there, ones that ate people? New York—she’d love to visit the museums and Central Park and check out the view from the top of the Empire State Building. But it was so far away. At least six hours by plane and air travel had become such a pain with the excessive security requirements they kept adding.
    Gillian reached for her coffee, took a sip, and reheated it in the microwave before adding those places to the list. Maybe I’ll go to Mount St. Helens. The last time she’d ventured there, the fog and rain had obscured the view, which had been a disappointment. If she returned, perhaps she’d have better luck seeing the new crater since the big explosion in 1980.
    She sat back in her chair, unsure what to add. Visit M ount Rainier where she’d worked while in college and where she’d met Owen, her ex-husband? For old times’ sake or to prove to herself that her unhappiness with Owen couldn’t possibly color how she felt about The Mountain and its spectacular surroundings?
    She pursed her lips before adding “go to dinner at the Space Needle.” It had been ages since she’d been there. Her list was prosaic, unexciting, consisting only of