“Fine, I’m sure. Let’s get to work.”
But they brought her up again during lunch.
“I sure will miss our catered lunches on Friday,” Barney said. “That barbecue she had brought in our last day was the best thing I ever put in my mouth.”
It was true. After the taco truck, Livi had someone cater our lunch every Friday. For her last day she had a local barbecue place bring over ribs, brisket, fried chicken, cornbread, and a tonof delicious sides. We were all going to be sad eating our boring sandwiches this week.
But as it turned out, we didn’t have to worry. Just before noon on Friday a food truck rumbled up the road, this time from a macaroni and cheese place. The guys couldn’t dump their lunches fast enough when they saw the truck, texting their thanks while they waited for lunch.
I showed my thanks when Livi came over after work, dropping to my knees and eating her out against the front door.
After that, we fell into a pattern. Livi and I texted throughout the week, sending cute little messages and emojis in between longer conversations. Every Friday she sent lunch for the crew, just like she had when she was part of the team, then after work she’d come to my place and we’d spend the weekend together.
We were growing closer and closer, and as hard as I was looking for red flags, it was hard to find any. Despite her upbringing, Livi seemed refreshingly down to Earth, perfectly comfortable hanging out with me in my little apartment or doing ordinary things like going grocery shopping or taking a hike along the waterfront.
The only thing that bothered me was the gifts. Livi spent money like a champ, probably because it meant nothing to her. When we went out together I insisted that we take turns paying for things, but whenever it was my turn to pay, Livi seemed to make it up with a gift. She was a great gift giver, and everything she gave me was thoughtful and sweet, but ridiculously expensive.A leather jacket. Custom floor mats for my truck. The most expensive smart watch on the market. Custom designed tools. Gifts for Leo.
When I asked her to stop buying me things, she would simply say, “It gives me a lot of pleasure buying you things, Sam,” and I’d forget to be mad about it.
Three months passed and I was starting to think this relationship would really work. We hadn’t talked about meeting each other’s families or anything like that, but we were calling each other ‘girlfriend’ and spending most of our free time together.
Then something happened to shake the foundation of our relationship.
Olivia
“When are we going to meet this secret girlfriend of yours, Olivia?” my mother asked over dinner one night.
“My girlfriend is none of your business, Mother. But how did you know I was seeing someone?”
“Your cousin Greta saw you eating at one of those food truck places when she was stopped for a red light downtown.”
My mother’s tone made it clear that eating at a food truck was akin to ingesting poison.
“She could hardly believe it when she saw you sitting outside eating at a picnic table.”
Another sneer.
“Is Greta planning to seduce her too?” I asked. “Because I didn’t think she liked women.”
“Don’t be crude, Olivia.”
I looked across the table at my father who was pretending not to listen to the conversation. He’d never liked Matt, but since he thought I did, he never said anything. In retrospect, I really wished he’d spoken up, but then again, he rarely found the spine to stand up to my mother. They were a strange couple, total opposites, but still somehow in love even after forty years of marriage.
“Sam and I have only been dating for a few months,” I said. “It’s too soon to subject her to family.”
Dad’s lips quirked but he remained silent.
“Why don’t you bring her to the symphony gala then?” my mother asked.
I shook my head. First, I knew that Sam would hate that kind of event and second, it was boring as hell. Even I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, but our company was a major sponsor for the annual event, so all executive staff were expected to be in attendance.
“That’s not her kind of scene.”
At least I thought it wasn’t, we hadn’t actually talked about it, but given Sam’s distaste for the trappings of wealth, it was a pretty good guess. The only source of friction between us was money. Sam was fiercely independent, always insisting on paying her share when we went out. It was refreshing really, even though I felt bad having her pay for things when I had so much more money than she did.
“You’ll come with me and your father then. What are you wearing?” my mother asked.
“I had a dress made.”
