I smile, but my stomach roils with nerves and too much whiskey, and I seriously question that statement. “Well, I have great help. Are you sure you don’t mind babysitting?”
“Are you kidding me? I love this kid like he’s my own. What time do you want me at the house?”
“How’s five for you? I need to figure out what the hell to wear.”
“Fashion show at five, got it. I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Lo
“So you’re going to hate me,” Clem croaks through the receiver.
“No, no, no,” I beg. “You can’t do this to me at the last minute. Please Clem, I’m begging you.”
“I know, and if I could be there, I would. But I’m sick as a dog. I think it might have been the dodgy pizza I ate after you left, but I don’t know. So, I don’t want to make the little guy sick.”
“It’s okay. You want me to bring you some soup?”
“No. I want you to call Gabe to watch his kid so you can go on this hot date.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just call Dr. Hottie and reschedule.”
“No! Come on, Lo, you’ve gotta get back out there sometime. Why not with a guy you actually like?”
“Because, asking Gabe to sit while I go and have sex with a cute guy is ...”
“Normal. Besides, it’s not babysitting if it’s his kid.”
“You know what I mean. Gabe and I are ...”
“So help me, Jesus, if you say complicated one more time, I’m going to come over there and puke on you.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No, it’s not. He’s your ex-husband, you share a kid, not venereal diseases.”
“Are you high right now?”
“Bitch, please, I’m dead serious. Call Gabe and tell him you’re going out with the hot doctor, and he needs to look after his kid.”
“And if he doesn’t like this plan of yours?”
“Who gives a shit what he likes. He’ll either be so fucking annoyed that he lost his opportunity to be the one taking out his hot ex-wife and he’ll finally make a move, or he’ll come over andwatch the kid without complaint. Either way, you’ll get the shit banged out of you, and everyone is happy.”
“What do you mean, he’ll finally make a move?”
“Shit. Did I say that? I meant—”
“Has he talked to you about the two of us?”
“Lo, baby, I gotta go. Make the call, or don’t, but either way, you gotta stop living in the past.”
She hung up, and I looked down at the picture of Gabe, Axl, and me at the pier on my lock screen. Surely Gabe hadn’t confided in Clem about our relationship. He could barely stand to be around her these days. Still, she was right. He and I were over, and we needed to stop living in the past.
I punched in his number and hit send. Gabe picked up on the second ring. “Freckles.”
“Hey.”