“You’re a lifesaver,” she informs me, her fingers playfully rustling up my hair. A gesture that’s completely foreign between us. I almost ask her why she did that when Grace places the lid back on her plastic to-go bowl that’s barely halfway done. I settle for an awkwardly flustered laugh in the hopes that I can find a way to get Olive to leave and give us our fragile privacy back.
“I think I’m going to get going,” Grace announces. She stands from her seat, swiping away at my desk to erase all evidence of her visit. Paper wrappers are tossed in my waste bin, spilled soup is wiped away, and her little tote bag she brought with her is already hooked over her shoulder.
“You didn’t even finish your ramen.”
A tight smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes causes her jaw to set, and I can’t help but notice how unbearable this goodbye feels. Like it’s ambiguous and I don’t know when I’ll see her again, if ever.
“It’s fine,” she tells me, her voice subdued and void of all the playfulness it carried a minute ago. “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”
Before I can convince her to stay a few more minutes, she turns and walks away.
“Is she your friend?”
I look at Olive. The innocence in her face could get her out of a traffic violation. “Yeah,” I tell her. “Something like that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Grace
I’m so fucking stupid.I don’t even know what possessed me to offer to bring Andrew lunch. Like I’m some kept woman fetching her man his next meal and waiting at his beck and call. We’re just friends. Friends don’t ditch their entire day at the drop of a hat to bring lunch like they were summoned only as a thoughtless ruse to spend time with them. And they definitely don’t cancel plans with their sister in hopes to, what? Get laid? Because that wasn’t what was going to happen today. Then why did I do that? Why did I call Jade the second I decided I was going to bring Andrew some ramen to let her know I was going to have to take a rain check on our trip to the children’s museum with Avery.
I reach my car, my hands fumbling with my keys, and my phone buzzes in my bag. A short single buzz indicating a text message. I can bet the pack of unopened gum and the twenty-dollar bill I have roaming around in there it’s Andrew. I should just ignore it. Maybe covertly silence it and put it on Do Not Disturb mode for the rest of the day without sneaking a glance at what is most likely to be a clueless text message.
I, of course, do nothing of the sort because curiosity is my biggest weakness. So is hope. Hope he’ll tell me to come back,maybe even beg. Hope he’ll ask me why I left so suddenly. Hope he’ll tell me the cute office friend who sabotaged our lunch is just a coworker and not someone who seems to be showing him a keen interest in more things than just being his colleague.
I huff a sigh and reach for my phone. Just as suspected, it’s Andrew. Some of that irritation—with a wavering scrap of anger—melts, and I wonder if I’m being too harsh.
Andrew
Thanks for lunch.
There goes that hope, flitting away as the regret settles in my gut, and the irritation returns tenfold. It sits right alongside all the coulda-shoulda-woulda moments replaying in my head. I should be eating an overpriced hot dog at the children’s museum and buying Avery a bubble gun or a stuffed bear from the gift shop. Not riddled with embarrassment and shame.
Too frustrated to go home and simmer, I set about running some errands. More things I put off because I planned to bring Andrew lunch. I’m about to pull out of my parking spot and head to the grocery store to pick up some apples and yogurt when my phone rings through the speaker in my car. Teeny’s name lights up the screen on my panel, a welcome reprieve from a particular someone I’d prefer not to hear from for the rest of the day.
“Hey, Teeny,” I call as I exit the lot. I try to snuff away my dejected tone, not wanting to bring up the cause of my current sulky mood. Especially since it’s because of her baby brother.
“What are you up to?”
“I was just going to the store to stock up on a few things. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she answers. “I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out. Everett’s out of town for some work thing, and Sadie’s with Leo for the weekend. So, it’s just me for the night.”
“Sure,” I say, considering her offer for barely a second. A night with Teeny to distract me from what I practically ran away from sounds like just the thing I need. As long as I don’t have to eventhinkabout Andrew.
“You want to have dinner at my place? We can do takeout.”
More takeout. I just hope this has a completely different outcome from my last takeout run. Something more amicable and gratifying. “Sure. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
No matter how many times I walk into Teeny’s mansion, I’ll never get used to the sheer size of it. We’re sitting at her dining table, the chandelier hanging above us creating a kaleidoscopic effect with the light reflecting off it. It’s dark, but I know just outside the large glass wall sits a stunning infinity-edge swimming pool. The same pool I ogled Andrew in with his short swim trunks and glistening skin dripping with chlorinated water. What a fool I was.
“You want another bottle of the white or something else?”
“I’ll take a Perrier if you have any.”
She nods, scooting out of her chair to walk into her kitchen to her fridge. We’ve been picking at the sushi rolls I brought over for dinner while she supplied the wine. The litter of trash along with two wineglasses and a finished bottle of Riesling has collected over the last hour we’ve gabbed and laughed. I’ve forgotten, or at least temporarily dismissed, my afternoon with Andrew. The reminder of his bubbly office girlfriend and the staggering realization that Andrew and I would make as much sense as trying to mix two immiscible liquids has been dulled by a full stomach and a low humming buzz. My head feels clear andfree from all the muddled thoughts Andrew put there with his tattoos and beckoning silver chain. I’m ready to move on from all of it. I want to wash it all away with a can of refreshing mineral water and resume my life. My dull, boring life full of awkward blind dates and frozen dinners.
Teeny disappears into the large pantry in her kitchen. While I’m waiting for her to come back, I hear my phone buzz a few times in my purse. It’s out of my reach, which is an intentional choice. A diversionary tactic so I’m not bothered or distracted—or quite possibly tempted—but when the incessant buzzing becomes urgent, I huff a sigh and walk over to my purse. It could be my parents or Jade, and the thought that my family might be trying to reach me causes me to give in. When I dig out my phone and find that it’s the exact person who I’d been planning on avoiding, my mood immediately sours. Four text messages and two missed calls. All from Andrew.
