Fancy is a stretch—and he’s a nervy son of a gun, acting like I don’t recall his role in the earlier ribbing about Everly.
“Sure.” I reach for my second favorite mug, tucked between a box of tissues and a stack of invoices. I tip it to see if it’s clean.Good enough.
Since Judy abandoned me, the office has deteriorated. Rand has been at a loss for a replacement since I nixed LHS’s notorious cougar. There must be half a dozen cups, mostly unwashed, lined up on the credenza, my desk, and the filing cabinet. And those are just the ones not hidden by a snowstorm of paperwork needing to be addressed in some manner or filed in the lone filing cabinet.
The coffee maker revs up, hissing and steaming.
“Is this about the princess?”
“Depends on what you mean bythis? Actually, I don’t know any princesses either.”
“Sure you do. Princess Becca. Is she why you’re off your game. I’m sorry she did you dirty, but let me tell you, you’re a lucky man that one ran out on you.”
The chair creaks with my backward motion. I stare him down as the coffee maker does its final gurgle. Frankly, I’m shocked he’s skipped over Everly and gone straight to blaming my distraction on Becca.
“Cliff, I’m cold, I’m tired, and we’re existentially behind. Moreover, I happen to be dating a pretty great woman. So, my question is, what makes you pick now to attribute my…mood,as you put it…to my ex?”
Cliff snorts, shaking his head. “You and your big words.” He stretches out his legs as if he’s got all day. “I’m saying yourmoodain’t like you.”
I start a second cup and sip from the first. Sorry, not sorry for the lack of hospitality, I already contaminated this mug with my germs first thing this morning. “Cliff, Becca is engaged to Rand. I’m dating a great woman whose character puts hers to shame. This job is a real—”
Rightly reading my mind, he raises an eyebrow that sends my sentence off the cliff. It isn’t that he’s a prude about language—but he knowsIam. And yes, I was about to use an expression I never do, completely validating his claim about my—fair enough—mood.
Exhaling, I rake back hair I didn’t bother washing last night. Yesterday, once the backup backhoe broke down midday—say that fast three times—I spent the rest of the afternoon and half the evening tracking down a replacement. “Trust me, man, I am not moping over Becca.” Not anymore. Saturday night was a turning point.
“I sure hope that’s the case, and if it is, then the next question is whether you’re worrying cute little Everly is going to do you like the princess did?”
Prying into my personal life has never been Cliff’s way, and I must say, I’m not a fan of this tweaked approach. Must be the thing with Marlene messing with his head.
I hand the steaming coffee across the desk.
Cliff shifts his weight from one cheek to the other. “Marlene told me working the diner is temporary, that she’s really a lawyer.”
I can’t help but notice the meddler-in-chief needs a date with a barber. Wild hairs spiral out from the silver arches over both his eyes. “Yeah. So?”
Of course, I know what he’s getting at. Becca is the business manager of a large, corporate-type medical practice, and she decided marrying a guy who wore a hard hat instead of a tie to work every day was beneath her.
“Okay, young’un. I’m going to take you at your word—but all that really means is that your mood is abouther. Everly.”
I let my complete exasperation sound off in my sigh. “I already told you things are great with Everly.”
He harrumphs.“If everything’s so fantastic, why haven’t you told the lady you’re one-third owner of this fine, half-a-billion dollar company?”
Coffee splashes as I plop the cup down. “How do you know I haven’t told her?” I grab a used napkin and mop up the spill. “Never mind.” I rock forward in the chair. “Marlene won’t say anything, will she?”
Cliff swings his head from side to side. “You’re screwing up, Herd.”
I pick at a crusty spot of drying mud on my chin.
“Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but h—” He visibly censors and redirects. “Jinglebells, kid, why in blazes haven’t you mentioned it by now? I’d say that’s a plus in your favor.”
Inwardly, I cringe. Redundancies kill me. Make my ears bleed. Don’t know why. My own personal quirk, I suppose.
“It’s not a big deal.”Hopefully.
“I wouldn’t think so, but you’re sure as…you know, blazes, acting like it is.”
“I am not. I just don’t go around announcing things like that to every soul I meet.”
