I return my attention to my phone, trying to figure out how to stop this redundant back and forth when Teeny’s words catch my attention.
“I’m at home. Why?” I look up at her. She has a confused furrow cutting between her brows and one hand is braced to her hip. “I’m just having dinner with Grace.” Another pause as her puzzled scowl deepens. “Okay. I’ll have to look for it.”
She hangs up, and instead of sitting back down, she heads to her stairs while calling over her shoulder, “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”
I’ve forgotten all about my message to Andrew, and by the looks of it, so has he. I don’t bother sending him anything else. It seems I’ve made my point, and he’s leaving me alone for the night. Good.
A sudden pang hits my chest. It’s unexpected, and it feels a little like disappointment. Was it so easy for him to give up? Was this Olive woman so much more important that he’s waving a white flag and throwing in the towel just so he can go and spend more time with her? How low do I sit on his totem pole of priorities? Probably right around the bottom below slutty swim trunks and LEGO. And several notches below his “work wife.”
Whatever. I shouldn’t be concerning myself with stupid shit like this. I’m a grown woman. I’m getting myself tangled up in something I have zero business getting gnarled in. I’m relieved I’ve gotten out of it before things got messy. I don’t do messy. I’ve done messy my whole life. I’m done with messy.
I open my can of Perrier and continue eating my sushi with Teeny occupied upstairs. I wait it out a few more minutes until I start to grow curious. Who could have called with such a demanding request that it interrupted our dinner? I stand frommy seat and follow the sounds of rustling. I finally find her in one of the four upstairs rooms. It’s Everett’s office with a large mahogany desk and an expansive computer setup that scares me just looking at it. There’s a picture of Teeny in a silver rectangular frame sitting on the desk, all bright and shiny, and she’s hunched over one of the drawers, rifling through a stack of papers.
“What are you looking for?”
She huffs. “Andrew said he left his credit card here and that it should be in Everett’s desk.”
My body freezes at the sound of Andrew’s name. “Oh,” I manage to squeeze through my lips.
“I tried calling Everett, but the hotel he’s staying at has really spotty service. His phone goes straight to voicemail.” She stands upright and huffs, her eyes roaming over the room in the hopes that it might be somewhere else. “I’m just going to have to tell him to ask Everett about it when he gets back.” She pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and starts tapping away at her phone. When she’s done, she smiles at me. “Sorry about that.”
I shrug, trying to brush off the ominous presence of Andrew with nonchalance. “It’s fine.”
We both start walking down the stairs and back into the dining room. We pick up where we left off, finishing the last of the tuna roll and edamame. Teeny takes another look at her phone and frowns.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers, her voice a little distracted. “I was telling Andrew not to come over because I can’t find his card, but it looks like he’s already on his way. He’s not answering my texts.”
My throat dries. “Here? He’s coming here?”
She nods at her phone screen. “Whatever, it’s his fault for leaving his card just lying around everywhere.”
I set down my chopsticks with shaky hands, and one of them flings across the table, splattering splotches of soy sauce along the rich oak table. “Oh my god,” I gasp. “I’m so sorry.” I rush to wipe away the dark stains, my hands remaining fidgety.
Teeny stands and helps me. “It’s okay,” she assures.
“You know,” I start, reaching for my purse. “I just realized I have to—” My measly excuse to leave is interrupted by a sharp knock at her door. I feel my ears start to grow hot, and my heart rate kicks up several notches.
Teeny huffs a frustrated sigh, completely oblivious to the panic coursing through me. “That’s probably Andrew.”
I watch her get up from the seat, realizing it’s too late to make a sneaky exit. I have to face the music. Andrew’s here, most likely to seek me out, and I have to continue the avoidant, aloof façade I carried through our text conversation. I slip on the mask of someone who doesn’t even have two shits to give and act as if my dinner is the center of my attention.
“I told you,” Teeny says as I hear two sets of footsteps enter the dining area. “I couldn’t find it. You can go look if you want, but I think Everett might have put it somewhere safe. He’ll probably be able to tell you where it is.”
Against my better judgment, I look up, only to be met by Andrew’s stern glare. He looks at me like he wants to challenge me to something. And I can bet my still-full can of Perrier it isn’t to a thumb war or fencing duel.
“Grace,” he calls, his voice flat and steady.
I tilt my head to the side, attempting to show as much apathy as possible. “Hi, Andrew.”
“Do you mind if I stay and wait for Everett to call back?” His question is directed at Teeny, but his fiery gaze is pointed at me.
“Sure,” Teeny answers. “Did you already eat?”
“Yeah. The vending machine at work had a pretty good selection of chips.” The spiteful sarcasm in his voice is just subtle enough for me to pick up.
“You were working? On a Saturday?”
