“Exactly. You’re my favorite by default. Also, my least favorite.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had a lunch meeting scheduled with Sandra Trout, but she canceled. Some issue with her personal assistant, I think. You want to grab lunch instead? My reservation at the Courtyard Cafe is still open.”
I winced. “I would have loved to, but I’m meeting with my realtor right now. He’s showing me two houses.”
“Score. I’ll come along.”
I gave a start as we walked. “Really? You would rather look at houses with me than go to a nice lunch?”
“I go to nice lunches all the time. They’re boring. Besides, I can help you. I have a good eye for houses. I wanted to be a realtor when I grew up.”
“Really? Why didn’t you pursue that?”
“Because I suck at salesmanship,” he replied. “And I hate catering to people. Also, I don’t really like real estate very much.”
I laughed. “So basically, it would have been your nightmare job.”
“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers. “But if I come along, your realtor will be less likely to feed you bullshit.”
“Okay,” I said, warming up to the idea. “I’d love a buddy. Let’s go.”
“As long as you’re back by one,” he said in a mock-serious tone. “We can’t let our peons take more than an hour for lunch, you know.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“Are you cool driving?” he asked me when we got to the parking garage.
“I figured I would.” I glanced at the rows of cars in the marked NMCF spots. “Which one is yours?”
“None of them. I don’t own a car.”
I missed a step. “Wait, really?”
“Don’t need one,” he said simply. “I can walk to work from my apartment, and anywhere else downtown. If I’m going farther than a mile, I take an Uber.”
“What if you need to drive somewhere farther away? Like, too far for an Uber?”
“Then I rent a car,” he replied as if it were obvious. “But that’s rare. And it still ends up being cheaper than the cost of a car. Not that money is the issue.”
“What is the issue, then?”
“I like having as few strings attached to me as possible. Possessions end up owning a person, not the other way around. My life is simpler without one.”
We got into my car, and I pulled out of the garage. When we got to a red light, I glanced sideways at August.
“Do you not have a cell phone, either?”
“Hell no,” he said emphatically. “That’s how the government tracks your every move. That, and the microchips they implant in your teeth when you go to the dentist. No thanks.”
“Uhh,” I said, unsure of what to say.
He leaned over and patted my thigh. “Just kidding. I’m notthatfar off the deep end. I just don’t like having a phone on me twenty-four hours a day. I used to have one, and it was like having an anchor weighing me down. People calling me all day, and sending emails that Ihaveto answer. Without one, I can do all of my work when I’m in the office, and then leave it there when I go home.”
“Except when you have to host fancy cocktail hours,” I pointed out.
“Ugh. Don’t get mestarted.”
I kind of understood what he was saying. Having a cell phone meant I was constantly checking my OnlyFans stats, replying to direct messages, and all the other minutia that came with running a page. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have a phone, so I wouldn’t be beholden to it so much.
But I couldn’t say that to August, so all I said was, “I respect that. People don’t mind that they can’t contact the CFO of the New Mexico Community Foundation very often?”