Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
OUT OF TOWN
It’s Friday night. I’m sitting here wondering how everything went with the door install at MacKenzie’s. My phone rings, and Gill’s name appears on my screen. Speak of the devil. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sam. All done, man.”
“Great, how’d it go?”
There’s a pause and then a sigh. I know Gill, and that’s the signal that he’s weighing his words. I press the speaker button and mute my television until he’s ready.
“Sam. You should have had me pick her up at work.”
Shit. I should have. “You’re right. Was she okay when you got there?”
“Yeah. She was expecting me. She seemed happy to see me.”
“Happy to see you?” What the ever-loving hell does he mean by that?
“She cooked me supper. It was amazing.”
“She cooked for you?”
“She sure did, boss. I felt like a man coming home from work to his good woman.” I hear him chuckle.
“That’s not funny, dude. Did you get the door installed or what?” I ask testily.
“Yep. And it was a perfect fit. Which surprised me. For such an old place, it was surprisingly solid.”
“How long were you there?”
“A couple hours. We had dinner right in the middle. Got to know her a little better.”
I groan. “She really did cook for you? I thought you were bullshitting me.”
“No bullshit. Nothing fancy but it hit the spot.”
“What’d she talk about?”
“Her grandfather, mostly. How he built all the cool stuff in her place, how creative he was, stuff like that.”
He knows more about her than I do, and she’s supposed to be my woman.
“He encouraged her to go into art. That’s something. Most parents try to talk their kids out of art school. Right?”
“Uh-huh. What else did she say?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
“Well, boss,” he says tersely. “Here’s the thing—she kept asking me strange questions.”
“Oh, yeah. Like what?” I hope she wasn’t trying to get with him. That’d be a hell, no.
“She wanted to know if we’ve been busy this week, or if you traveled a lot for work, shit like that. I told her no, that we weren’t very busy this week. I told her that you hated to fly.”
Ah, hell. “That’s my fault.”
“I’m sure it is,” he mumbles. “Oh, before I forget, her phone is totally outdated, an iPhone 4. I couldn’t download the smart lock app. Her laptop is a joke too. She’ll just have to use the key. She wanted to know the cost of the door.”
“Why’d she want to know the cost of the door?”
“Beats me. She didn’t say. Maybe she was just making conversation. I am a great conversationalist.”
I scoff at that. The guy is a player, just like I am. Was. Just like I was.
“I asked her about her lovely friend, Lauren. It’s too bad she’s married. I could settle down with someone like her.”
“I’ll bet.” It’s my turn to respond with sarcasm.
“Here’s the kicker, though, Sam.”
“Yeah?”
“She asked me to thank you for the door and locks. Now, why would she do that? You’re dating her. Why doesn’t she tell you herself? While I’m thinking about it, why didn’t you do that install yourself?”
“I had plans.”
“Plans? You mean like lying around your place watching the game?”
“Yeah. And I’m taking a break.”
“A break?”
“It was moving too fast.”
“You took a break during the week of Valentine’s Day?”
“Yeah,” I spit. “A break. I forgot about Valentine’s Day.”
“Does she know about this break?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?” he asks, sounding irritated.
“Spit it out, Gill. What’s your problem?”
“God, my best friend can be an idiot,” he says to the world at large, apparently. “Now I understand some of her questions.”
“What questions? Was she trying to delve into my personal life?”
“Holy shit, Sam. She didn’t ask me to hack into your personal accounts or anything. Jesus.”
“Hey, you volunteered the information.”
“Yeah, I did. Now, let me ask you something… have you talked to her at all?”
“Sure. I sent her a couple of texts.”
He sighs heavily, obviously for emphasis. “I’m going to say something, and I hope you listen. Consider this an intervention from your best friend.”
I snort into the phone. I’m not sure if that’s about the intervention part or the best friend part; either way, he continues.
“MacKenzie Blue Parker is unique. There are no two ways about it. She’s sweet, genuine, beautiful, and nothing like those social-climbing bimbos you usually date.
If you didn’t mention your so-called break, don’t expect her to understand.
Because if she hasn’t been informed that you needed a break, then when you decide to pull your head out of your ass and attempt to see her again, she’s gonna turn you down, man. Flat.”
“Are you done?” I snap.
“No. I’m not done. If you don’t get it together, I’m going to ask her out.”
“The hell you are, Gill.”
“Yes, I will. I’m good-looking. I’m smart. Gosh darn it, people like me.”
“Ha. Ha.” I scoff again into the phone.
“I may not be as tall as you, but I’m close. I may not have blond locks like a douchebag surfer, but I’ve got lots of long dark hair. Chicks dig the man bun. I just bet she’s imagined me with my hair down while I fu—”
“That’s it,” I holler. “You get within five feet of my woman, I’ll knock you out, asshole.”
He chuckles. “Your woman? Seriously. You left your woman high and dry without a word of warning when you decided to, what was it? Take a break?”
“Fuck off, Gill. Seriously, fuck the hell off.”
“You’ve got two days to get that shit back on track, boss, or she’s mine.” This time he growls like he means it.
I hear the phone click.