I was in the small appliances section, staring at an array of toasters that all looked identical to me when my phone rang.
Keith.
I was still not thrilled with him. I’d been trying to decide how to broach the subject of his harassment of Ina. I didn’t want to come off as an overprotective boyfriend, but I needed to do something to get the asshole to back off. He was trying my patience.
“What’s up?” I answered.
“Just checking in,” he said. Keith sounded far too cheerful. I could hear music in the background. And voices. Female voices.
“Where are you?”
“Miami. Decided I needed a break from the snow. Got a last-minute flight yesterday afternoon.” He laughed at something someone said in the background.
“Miami? For the weekend?”
“The week.”
“The week?” I repeated.
“Didn’t I put it in the shared calendar?”
“No, you didn’t.” I felt a headache building.
“What’s up? Did you need something?”
I needed his ass in the office during our busiest time of the year.
“Did you get Ina’s next gift for the exchange?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Who?”
I closed my eyes and counted to five. “Ina. Your Secret Cupid assignment. The person you’re supposed to be buying gifts for.”
“Oh, Ava. Nah, I told my assistant to handle it. She knows my budget.” He was already distracted, talking to someone else. “Listen, I gotta go. Drinks are here. Catch you next week!”
He hung up before I could respond. Why the fuck had he even called me?
I stood in the middle of HomeGoods, holding a smart toaster I was definitely going to buy for Lucas, and did my absolute best not to throw my phone across the store.
Keith was in Miami fucking off as usual. He’d delegated it to his assistant—again—without giving her any guidance. And he couldn’t even remember Ina’s name.
I paid for the toaster and left.
There was no way I was going to let Ina get some stupid stapler or other ridiculous gift.
I found myself driving to a sporting goods store on the edge of SoHo. The place had been there for decades. One of the few that had not been gobbled up by some big box franchise.
I found the ice-skating section and started looking at skates. Ina’s skates had been well-worn, clearly loved, but they were also clearly old. She deserved better.
I spent twenty minutes talking to a sales associate who actually knew the difference between figure skates and hockey skates. He helped me find a pair that would be appropriate for someone with Ina’s skill level.
I was checking out bags to carry the skates in when I overheard a couple the next aisle over.
“I’m just saying, if Sarah and Mike give away our origin story at the wedding, I’m going to die of embarrassment,” the woman was saying.
“It’s a cute story! You met on Cupid’s Arrow. There’s nothing embarrassing about that. Everyone is doing the online dating thing these days. No one has time to hang out in produce sections or bars looking for their forever person.”
“It’s embarrassing that we were both too chicken to actually meet in person for three months. We just kept messaging back and forth like pen pals.”
