“I do not. Please, do tell.” He smirks, but I’m getting genuinely annoyed with him.
“You give up too easy when things get...challenging,” I say.
“Since when do you think that?” he says, but he’s only half listening. He’s back looking at work emails on his phone. He’s not someone easily rattled.
“Since, I don’t know, always.”
“Example?” he asks, looking at me now.
“You want an example?”
“I would like an example, yes.” He crosses one leg over the other and folds his arms, amused, but also challenging me to come up with something. I stop scraping plates into the disposal and give him my full attention.
“The dog we got that you returned after he peed in the house a few times,” I say.
“It was a foster dog for a reason. You see if it’s a good fit. And there was more than peeing, he was—”
“Fine. The basketball team you joined at the Y and quit after your first practice.”
“I don’t need a concussion, Cor.”
“Okay,” I say. “Spanish lessons, tennis lessons, building the shed in the backyard, the downstairs bathroom reno—”
“Okay.” He stops me, and I stop rattling off my list, although I could have gone on. I wanted to end my list withandus. You gave up on us when you did what you did, but he still denies it, and I pretend to believe him.
“Fine, you wanna stalk Georgia Kinney from across the street, enjoy yourself. I’ll stay out of it.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “It’s not stalking, it’s called making an effort.” But my smile quickly fades when I put down my tea towel and walk over to kiss the back of his head. I see what’s written in his planner for tonight:Drinks with C.
He said he’d be out tonight because Benny Waller was retiring and everyone from the office was getting together for a send-off. I asked him why on a Sunday, and he said that’s just how it worked out for everyone’s schedule. And then he went on to say it’s weird that going out on a Sunday seems odd but not a Thursday. You still have to get up for work the next day. I let it go.
Who isC? It’s notCorabecause I wasn’t invited, of course.Carrie,Cheryl,Claire,Chloe. Do I know anyone with aCname? One of his assistants isCeline, I think. OrChelsea? I feel my face flush and heat prick up my spine.
“You okay?” Finn asks, picking up his coffee, about to head up to his office.
“Fine,” I say, and he smiles and heads upstairs. I can’t do this to myself.Cis probably forcoworkers. Yes. It’s probablycolleagues. Yes, yes. It’s a weird way to write it, though; it seems like a name. Short forDrinks with Connieor something, right? It’s weird. Wouldn’t he writeWork partyorBenny’s retirement? It doesn’t sound right.
If I knew where the event was, I would go and find out myself, but he’s careful not to tell me these details anymore after I showed up that time and humiliated him, causing irrevocable damage to his reputation. I can’t ask either. I won’t ask because we cannot go back down the road we were on a couple years ago. I almost ruined everything once, accusing him, and I was wrong. I was obsessed with catching him. Maybe that was a dig just now, when he said I was obsessed with Georgia.
It almost ended us the last time I started thinking like this. I take a deep breath. It’s nothing. I stare at his planner on the table. I won’t open it. I take a step closer, though. I think maybe I could open it quickly. I sit at his place at the table and stare down at it. I lift my hand tentatively...and just then Finn appears out of nowhere.
“Jesus!” I clutch my heart.
“Whoa,” he laughs and picks the planner up off the table. “Sure you’re okay, Cor?”
“Fine. Great. You just scared the shit out of me,” I say, and he heads back to the stairs. Did he just come to get that so I wouldn’t see it?
“Hey,” I call to his back. He turns.
“I was thinking dinner out tonight. What do you think?”
“Oh, I’m out tonight. I thought I told you,” he says.
“Oh, maybe I forgot. What do you have, again?”
“A thing with the office. Birthday drinks.”
“Ah, right. You probably told me,” I say, and he disappears up the stairs. I sit at the kitchen table. My ears are hot, and my hands shake. He’s lying to me. He forgot to be consistent. It’s a retirement party, Finn, you bastard, not a birthday party. It’s happening again.Who the fuck isC?
