“Anyway,” Jodi said, “what’s going on with you and writing? I thought you came here to write your next album.”
I took a bite of my lunch, mainly to delay in having to answer Jodi.
“I did,” I finally said. “That’s the entire reason for my being down here. Yet, nothing is flowing. I thought leaving LA would do the trick.”
I hated the look of pity that crossed Jodi’s face. I swiped a french fry from the metal cup in the center of the table.
“These are good.”
Jodi nodded. “Garlic parmesan fries. So, what are you going to do about writing?”
I swiped another fry and dipped it in the ketchup saucer next to the basket. “I kind of did something.”
“What?”
“It’s for inspirational purposes only.”
“You bought a new instrument?”
“No,” I said.
Jodi cocked her head sideways before shaking it. “Okay, so what’d you do?”
Clearing my throat, I sat up straight in my seat. “I allowed Gabe to become my muse.”
“What?” Jodi’s eyes were wide as saucers, and the fry that she’d stared at so lovingly paused halfway to her mouth. “What does that even mean?”
With a shrug, I admitted, “I’m not sure exactly.”
“So … what? You like, sleep with him and get inspiration from his dick or something?”
I gasped so loud a patron two tables over turned to stare in our direction.
“Nothing like that,” I whispered. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
Jodi gave me a look. “Hm. I didn’t even mention the word relationship. That’s interesting.”
“You insinuated it,” I insisted.
“Did I?”
I waved my fork in the air and shook my head. “None of this is the point. I didn’t even suggest it. He showed up on my doorstep and was all,let me be your muse.Then we had fried ice cream.” Pausing, I thought about it for a beat. “I bet the ice cream ploy was to soften me up.”
“He took you to The Rustic, huh?” Jodi asked, donning a smirk.
“I guess you're familiar.”
She laughed. “Yeah, Micah first took me there after he proposed. I almost kicked him when I tasted that fried ice cream.”
“Why’d you want to kick him?”
“Because he didn’t take me there sooner. Anyway, you say this is not the start of a relationship with Gabe, but I’d be careful if I were you.”
“It’s not like that,” I continued. “Really. I just got out of a long-term relationship. The last thing I need is to hop into another one. I’m done with relationships.”
Jodi snorted.
“Seriously. That’s it for me. I’m no good at them. The love thing doesn’t work for me.” Between my own failed relationships and the pitiful example I saw from my parents growing up, it was evident that relationships were something I wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with.
