r back to her office, while making small talk about her family and the dog. I steer the conversation away from mine because I don’t want her asking about my parents.
All the while, my brain’s whirring. What should be my next excuse to see her? Another investment opportunity?
Maybe I can ask her to help me pick out some good wines to go with the burgers we had. There’s a fantastic wine bar I’ve been wanting to check out. I climb out of the car as she does, ready to throw the question at her.
Before I can say anything, some scrawny guy in a slightly yellowed shirt and worn jeans runs up. “Hey, Pascal!”
He has eyes the color of burned coal and his tone is entirely too friendly. He puts an arm around her shoulders like it has every right to be there. Who the hell is this fucker and where did he come from?
I narrow my eyes. All cars should come with an ax. So I can hack away the offending limb, especially when it’s attached to a guy who’s still young enough to get it up.
She pushes him away. But she could have pushed harder.
“What are you doing here, Tom?” Her voice is appropriately cold, without any of its usual happy sweetness.
Freeze that idiot. Make him feel it.
“I’m back in the city,” he says, spreading his arms.
“And…how does that give you the right to put your hand on me? We’re through, remember?”
A clingy ex. Ugh. They’re the worst. She could’ve slapped him to make her point clearer, but oh well. I’ll settle for the verbal rebuke for now.
“Oh, come on.” He scowls. “I know you’re a girl, but you should be over that by now.”
“Excuse me?” She puts her hands on her hips, her feet shoulder-width apart.
Go, Skittles. Kick his ass. I’ll be your backup if you need help. Better yet, let me hold that idiot down for you.
“It wasn’t a big deal. Why you gotta be so emo about it?” he whines.
“I’m being ‘emo’? Really?” Her voice goes low and dangerously cold. “You snooped around my phone and decided because my period was a little late, I got pregnant to entrap you. Well, guess what? I’m not. Never was. So we can be cleanly, totally done.”
What an idiot. Why would Skittles want to entrap a guy like him?
“You gotta air our dirty laundry like that?” Tom says in a voice so loud he’s drawing attention.
“I wouldn’t have if you’d stayed away. And it isn’t our dirty laundry. Just yours.”
Damn, she’s hot when she’s mad, especially at somebody else.
“Is it because of him?” He points an accusing finger in my direction.
I preen inwardly. Obviously, if it’s between you or me, she’s going to choose me. She isn’t blind or stupid.
“You’re hanging out with a college kid?”
Huh? Where the hell did he get that from?
Skittles flushes at his tone, which makes her sound like some kind of cradle robber.
I make a subtle move so I’m shielding her from this jerk. Time to set the fool straight.
“First, I just finished grad school.” I smile. You should always smile, especially if you plan to deck the guy, figuratively speaking.
He glares at me. “Nobody asked you, college boy.”
“And nobody invited you,” I say.