“This is why I gave you my spare set of keys,” I say, unlocking the door as I approach. “So you don’t have to wait in the cold.”
He looks up. Grins. “Forgot ’em.”
“By forgot ’em, do you mean lost ’em?” I ask.
“They’re around,” he says as we both toss our bags into the backseat and climb into the car.
Yup. He’s totally lost them.
I turn to face him before starting the car. “That’s why you wanted to go out to dinner, huh? You’ve lost my keys and you know how expensive they are to replace? You’re buttering me up.”
Ben makes a tsking noise. “Now, Blanton, not everything is about you.”
“So you do know where my keys are, or…?”
“I got the promotion,” he says in response.
My thoughts about my extra car keys scatter.
I squeal. Then squeal again.
He winces. “Take it easy, Parks.”
I punch him in the arm. “I so will not take it easy! You got it! You’ve been telling me for weeks you thought they were going to bring in someone from the outside!”
A couple months ago, the senior product manager on Ben’s team relocated to Atlanta, and Ben heard rumors early on that he was under consideration to be her replacement. Rumors that he continually disregarded, because for reasons I don’t understand, Ben has it in his head that he’s mediocre.
I, on the other hand, know otherwise. He’s amazing.
I’ve heard him on work calls. Seen him working late into the night. The dude knows his stuff. He’s really, really good at his job, and, strangely, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to know it.
I start the car and shake my head. “You are so not buying dinner. I’m buying dinner. And we’re getting champagne.”
“Uh-huh, and I’m sure that last one is all for me, huh?” he says, knowing my love of the bubbly wine.
“You have to drink it with me tonight,” I insist. “Promotions and champagne go together like…peanut butter and jelly.”
“Steak and potatoes,” he says, picking up on our old game of “things that go together.”
“Spinach and strawberries.”
He makes a face. “More like, margaritas and nachos.”
“Beer and wings?”
“Better,” he says, with a nod of approval. “Tomato soup and grilled cheese.”
“Cookies and milk.”
“Cocks and condoms,” he says.
“Gross. How about…” I purse my lips, thinking for one I haven’t used a million times before. “Ooh, I know. Candles and bubble baths.”
Ben looks scandalized. “I don’t even know what that means. I take your candles and bubble baths and raise you Bert and Ernie.”
“Ummm…” I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I think.
You and me.