An idea takes shape in my brain, of Tina and me together, in my house, in my kitchen. She’s teaching me to cook and laughing her ass off at every foolish mistake I make while sneaking peeks at the sparkling ring on her left ring finger. Jared’s there, laughing right along with her, reminding me that in his years as an unsupervised child, he did all his own cooking, and the image both breaks my heart and makes me long to reach out and grab it with both hands.
“No, Peter. That’s not all I want.”
Peter grins from ear to ear. “That’s what I like to hear. All that’s left now is to figure out how to do it.”
The more I think about it, the more I love the sound of it. But there’s still one thing I’m curious about. “How’s this supposed to help my cornhole game?”
Peter barks a laugh and shakes his head. “Oh, no. That’s a lost cause. I wouldn’t normally say this to anyone, but Nick? You’re beyond hope. It’s probably time you thought about giving up cornhole. Talk to the team and see if they’ll let you be the water boy or something. Because mark my words, if they let you play, you all will lose every match. Every single one.” He rubs his hands together, a gleam in his eye. “That’s enough chatter. Let’s spend the rest of our lesson time working out how you canconvince your lady to want more with you. Because lord knows having you throw bean bags isn’t getting us anywhere.”
Conversational Ninja Wizard
Tina
“Was it weird? Tellme you didn’t make it weird.”
Chloe held off on grilling me until after we’d finished today’s prep work, and I was hoping she’d be kind enough to drop the matter all together. After throwing out six dozen eggs that had spoiled well before their best by date, and arguing with my supplier about it over the phone for more than half an hour before he’d agree to refund me, I’m in no mood to talk about anything that happened yesterday.
Clearly, Chloe has no interest in letting me off the hook easily. She wants the dirt, and she wants it now.
Luckily, or unluckily for Chloe, I suppose, there isn’t any dirt to tell her. Nick wasn’t at the gym when I went to deliver the order.
“He wasn’t there. Demetrius helped me set out the food, then I left. When I came back here to relieve Carson, I had another date waiting for me.”
Chloe stifles a laugh. “Another one? I didn’t realize there were that many men in Tuft Swallow trawling the dating sites looking for love. How did Carson handle being alone for a little while when you made the delivery? Sorry again that I didn’t make it back to town in time.”
I wave off her apology. “Carson was great, as always. More responsible than I ever was at his age, actually. Hiring him was the best business decision I’ve ever made. Besides hiring you, anyway.” She rolls her eyes at my praise, the same as she always does. “But to answer your other question, I’m pretty sure there aren’t that many men in Tuft Swallow. This was another finance guy from Spitz Hollow. He told me all about hisbig important jobat Spitz-Shein before I could get a word in. The look on his face when I told him we didn’t have a date was hilarious. He was all—” I screw my face up into an over the top rictus of confusion, garnering a snicker from Chloe. “He couldn’t comprehend that even after his self-aggrandizing speech, I didn’t want to date him. He called himself a ‘high value man’. Can you believe that?”
Her mouth opens wide in shock. “Shut up. He did not.”
I burst into laughter as I nod. “He really did. I promise.”
She splutters through her laughter, “I thought only douchey podcasters said that. You know, as part of their alpha male schtick. I didn’t think a real man would ever think that.”
“I’m not sure finance bros count as real men, Chloe.” I snicker again, thinking of the look on the guy’s face as he repeated his claims. His indignation was palpable. If I didn’tneed to get started on an order, I’d have watched him cycle through all the shades of purple for a few more minutes. It was almost pretty, like watching the sky come alive when you can see the northern lights. “Luckily, when he realized he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted from me, he wandered away, still muttering about his high value status.”
She slumps back in her seat, blowing out a long breath. “You’re lucky he left on his own. What if he’d been dangerous? You need to sort this shit out, and the sooner, the better.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious?” Instead of an answer, Chloe stares at me, a stony expression on her face. “Chloe, the guy smelled like cheese puffs and off-brand energy drinks. He probably lives in his mother’s basement.”
She gathers our coffee cups and stands. “You don’t know anything about that guy. If he believed the high value thing, maybe he subscribes to other incel propaganda. He could think it’s his right to date whomever he wants, and that he has the right to force you.”
A shiver runs through me before I can catch myself. I honestly hadn’t thought that much about it. But what if Chloe’s right? How lucky have I been that all these dates have taken no for an answer? What happens if the next one doesn’t? “I guess I’d better get to the bottom of this situation then,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“Hmm.” Chloe walks to the dish sink and sets our cups inside before turning to face me again. “What if I take tonight’s delivery over to the gym, so you can stay here in case another date shows up? Maybe if he’s not a complete idiot like the last guy, you can convince him to let you see the app where you’re supposedly setting up these dates. You might be able to track down the perpetrator that way.”
“Is that a good idea? I’ll be alone here with some strange dude again.” I’m not overly concerned, but what Chloe saysmakes some sense. I’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that hanging around with a potentially dangerous person doesn’t usually end well. There’s something to be said for trusting your gut.
“I doubt anyone would be dumb enough to try anything here, not with the police station a couple of doors down.” She shrugs. “But maybe get Carson to come in again, just in case. It’s probably better if you’re not alone. Plus, Carson can always use the hours.”
Carson’s parents, if you can call them that, barely provide the basic necessities for a kid of seventeen. I help him out as much as I can, but I can only do so much with how little money I bring in. Nick’s catering orders mean I’ve been able to get Carson in for a few extra shifts. If I could do more, I would, but my hands are tied.
“He told me yesterday he’s thinking of attending the summer basketball camp this year,” Chloe says. “You know he’ll need some of those fancy high-top sneakers all the kids are wearing these days.”
I resolve to ferret out Carson’s shoe size without sounding like a creep, so I can get him those shoes. I may not make enough at the restaurant to give him many shifts, but I have a credit card with enough room on it for sneakers. And a seventeen-year-old shouldn’t have to go without because he had shitty luck in the parent lottery. Even if he manages to save enough for those shoes, I guarantee we will never see them on his feet. His parents will steal that money from him one way or another. Just like they always do.
Pushing those thoughts to the side, I nod. “You’re right. I’ll text him and see if he can come in after school.”
“Thanks for the extrahours, boss.” As usual, Carson was more than happy to come in for an extra shift. “And thanks again for the pizza. Even though you don’t need to do that for me.” Carson finishes cleaning up his dishes, washes his hands, and, now that I will allow it, gets to work.
