“If this date is a dud, you need to get right back on the horse. No wasted time.” Ari hands me the phone and then takes a critical look at my hair.
“Am I making a mistake? This guy could be a serial killer.”
She ignores my grumbling and swipes a piece of my hair to the side. “You’re taking a chance. That’s never a mistake. Besides you can always call me if things go south and you need an immediate extraction.”
“Same goes to you. If the mother turns out to be a nightmare, let me know and I can call with a dramatic fake emergency.”
Ariana laughs. “She’ll probably need the fake emergency to get away from me.”
13
LAW
When I started my business, I had nothing more than a few hundred dollars in my account and a prayer. That business now employs more than fifty people and has an impressive roster of Fortune 500 clients. Every year I run a 10k for charity. I own my own home.
I’m not incompetent.
Glaring down at the burnt chicken in the pan, I decide not to even bother trying to figure out where things went wrong.
“I can cook my own damn dinner,” I grumble.
The sound of the fire alarm going off breaks my concentration. With a flick of my wrist, I turn off the burner under the pan and then grab a magazine to fan the smoke. The alarm continues blaring for another minute before it finally falls silent.
After a brief inspection, it’s clear the chicken isn’t that far gone just heavily seared. The only part that’s really burnt is the very bottom. Maybe I can scrape that off. Plating it with the microwave rice I made earlier, it looks decent.
It doesn’t look like the elaborate dinners Anya used to create but it’s edible. I sit down at the dining table, deliberately ignoring the empty place setting to my left. Anya used to prop her feet in my lap while we ate and tell me all the office gossip that no one else would ever say to my face. Then afterward we’d clean up together. Those were some of my favorite times. We didn’t need to talk to feel connected. It was enough just to look over and see her there.
“This is a perfectly nice evening.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince but I take a defiant bite of the chicken and chew methodically. My jaw is sore after struggling through a few rubbery pieces.
Maybe it was seared a bit more than I thought.
When the phone rings, I almost break my neck answering it. It’s barely done with the first ring before I have the receiver at my ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh hey. I wasn’t expecting you to actually answer,” my brother says. “I know how Anya feels about her dinner time.”
“Yeah.”
He groans. “What did you do?”
“Why are you assuming that I did something? Maybe she got a job offer in Alaska? Maybe I decided to become a Tibetan monk and live in solitude?”
“Let me guess,” Thomas says.
“Please don’t.”
He continues as if I haven’t spoken. “That nice girl got tired of waiting around for you to get your head out of your ass.”
The accuracy is insulting.
“That’s not what happened.”
He laughs. “Right. I seriously don’t get it. Yes, you got kicked in the nuts by Liz but that doesn’t mean you just give up on life.”
“I’m not giving up on life. I’m eating dinner.”