The lie is as obvious as the confession that no, they are not fine.
"Are you serious?"
"Areyouserious? Amelia, I'm about to go into an important interview, and you're asking me about my relationship with your dad?"
"You were rude to him before we left."
Ugh, my timing is terrible. I couldn't wait an hour and yell at him on the drive home?
"Can we talk about this later? Actually, no. I don't want to talk about this ever."
When I pull up to the building, Theo leaves my car without even saying a word to me.
I guess I deserved that. I take full responsibility for the timing of this. It was never my strong suit. Technically, neither is cleanliness, but I'm doing better.
I have no clue how long Theo will be, so I find a Starbucks around the corner and order a drink.
I'm cheating on Roasted, but I have nowhere else to go. Consider this a quality check of the competition.
MyphonebuzzesasI check my emails.
I replied to a job offer about an administration position back in LA.
It didn't seem like a good fit, and the salary was half what I was making and didn't actually seem feasible, given my single situation.
No please, but sure Theo, I can be your chauffeur. I get back in my car and pull up to the same spot I dropped him off at.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—he's loosening his tie by yanking on the knot until it slips off his neck. He looks insanely handsome walking down the steps. He's disheveled—his coiffed hair now looks like he got in a brawl—but wow he looks sexy when he's angry.
But then I remember we're pissed at each other and I wipe away the expression on my face and look in the opposite direction.
"How did it go?" My jaw hurts from clenching it so hard.
"It fucking sucked."
Shit, I probably put him in the worst mood. My fault.
"I'm—"
"Did you have to ask about your dad right before my interview?" he practically yells.
He doesn't realize I was on the verge of apologizing, so instead of clearing the air, I yell back. It's what we do best.
"I didn't realize my dad was a controversial topic. You were the one who was a complete asshole to him right before we left."
"No I wasn't," he argues.
"Yes, you were. You've been like this since the day you came back. I didn't notice until right now. What is up your ass?"
We are stuck in gridlock traffic as we continue beating each other with sharp words.
"Nothing is up my ass. I have nothing against your dad."
He's a terrible liar.
"Yeah, okay, Theo." I dramatically mock his tone like we are preschoolers. And we were doing so well today. "You have nothing against my dad, yet the mention of his name was enough venom to ruin your interview? Please help me make sense ofthat."
I have a point, and his stillness confirms it.
