That tracked more with Dan as a person, and I shook my head, wondering how much to tell him.
"You want the truth?" I asked, talking without really considering what I was saying. "The truth is, I don't know. Of all the people she could have called, she called me. And it was weird and out of the blue."
"But you went," Dan said.
I shrugged. "I mean, yeah. What did you want me to do, tell your sister to shove her car problems and not go help her?"
"No, of course not. I'm glad you went to help her. It's just... it's weird, that's all."
"Look, Dan. You're her brother and she loves you, but maybe it's easier to accept help from someone you don't care about as much. Maybe she didn't want to bother you and she didn't care all that much about bothering me. There are a million different reasons it could have happened. Why aren't you asking her all this?"
He pulled the pizza box open and reached for a slice, holding it in his hands. I rolled my eyes and went to get napkins so he didn't get grease all over the place.
"She's been busy this week," he said. "And she's on a date tonight."
I paused on my way back to the living room, jaw clenched tightly. "Oh yeah?" I asked, trying to pull myself together before I went back in. "With who?"
Dan shrugged. "Some guy she met. Not a client this time. Apparently, that didn't go well."
"Apparently it didn't," I muttered.
He looked surprised to hear that. "She told you about it?"
Fuck. "Yeah. On the way back to her place that night. She was ranting, I guess. Her car not starting was like a shitty cherry on top of an already shitty night."
"That makes sense," Dan said with a sigh. "I feel bad for her sometimes. She has... I don't want to say bad taste in men, but it never seems to go well."
"In her defense, Jason wasn't her fault." I gave him a significant look.
Dan nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Sometimes it feels like she just attracts creeps and weirdos because she's so nice, you know? She's open and caring and doesn't want to see the worst in people. And then when she finally does see it, it's too late."
Except for me, apparently. Elise had always seen the worst in me and let that color how she acted around me. I didn't want to admit that I was jealous, but I could feel it, bubbling under my skin, making me have to work twice as hard to keep my expression neutral as Dan talked.
Thank fuck for the pizza and booze. Dan ran down a history of the men Elise had dated, pointing out all the things that had been wrong with them and how they'd mistreated her in the end.
Some of the names and offenses were news to me, and I couldn't believe that one person had such bad luck. I'd just had the one shitty relationship, and it had done a lot to make me wary of ever having one again.
But Elise kept trying. She wanted to find that right person so badly, she never gave up. It would have been inspiring if it wasn't also kind of sad.
"Anyway," Dan said, wrapping up his rant. "I just want good things for her. And I want her to know she can trust me."
"She knows that, Dan," I said. "If anything, she knows it too well."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
It wasn't my place to say anything, but it would help throw him off the scent of us sleeping together even more, so I just went with it. "You care too much sometimes. You get too involved. You wanted her to meet someone, so you tried to set her up with a guy who ended up being a jerk. If she'd called you to come get her when her car wouldn't start, you would have gone overboard trying to make sure she had everything she needed, when all she really wanted was a ride home. It's just a lot for her."
“Did she tell you that?” he asked, frowning.
“No.” Not quite the truth, But I rationalized it by telling myself I would have known it even if she hadn’t brought it up. “I just know you. And I know her well enough. She doesn’t think I’m listening to her when she’s going on about whatever, but I usually am. I know she wants to be independent and do things on her own. Maybe with some support, but she doesn’t want to be treated like a child.”
“You think I treat her like a child?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
"Then what are you saying?" he asked, and he sounded desperate to know.
I sighed and put my slice of pizza down, running my fingers through my hair. There was a reason I didn't do pep talks or consoling people. I wasn't good at it. I said the first thing that came into my head, which was usually the wrong thing, and made people feel worse.
