Chapter 4
Ethan
Only talking to Biannca through the app and messaging isn’t necessarily my greatest idea. But it also isn’t the worst. This way we can get to know each other a little, on a more personal level and what makes the other tick, before meeting in person.
There’s an extremely high chance that doing things this way, knowing that Biannca is the one I matched with and not saying a damn thing about it, will blow up in my face. Spectacularly. But the pieces just kind of fell into place this way.
Okay, maybe I somewhat strategically laid them this way, but it just as easily could have gone differently.
Regardless, this feels like it’s a much lower pressure way to learn more.
The buzzing of my phone has me swiping before I look to see who it is. “Hello?”
“Tell me you’re going.” There’s a sharp edge to the feminine voice that grates on every nerve in my body.
Leaning back in my chair, I groan and pinch the bridge of nose. There’s no use. It won’t stave off a headache or provide any relief from what this conversation is about to be.
“You know I’m not.”
“Ethan.”
“Jennifer.” She practically screams and I pull the phone from my ear for a moment while my sister acts in dramatic fashion. As always.
“What is wrong with you? Why can’t you ever just come to these events? You know how much it would mean to her.” The guilt she’s trying to lay on me used to work. Key word, used to.
“In what universe would I want to come to one of her parties just to be paraded around for all the eligible ladies who just happen to be daughters of her friends. While there’s barely another guy around.
Oh, and all those women are single.” The first few times, I took it as an honest mistake.
Then I wised up and realized my mother was putting all of her effort into trying to set me up. Under the hoax of a party.
A sigh comes through the phone that almost makes me feel bad. “You know she just wants you to find someone and be happy before she dies.”
“First of all, she has you and you’ve already made that life dream for her by having the huge wedding and the four kids. Second of all, she’s fifty four and fit as a horse. She’s not dying anytime soon.”
“Ethan.” I don’t know why my sister sounds so exasperated with me. She’s been dealing with my shit for the twenty nine years I’ve been alive. None of this should be a shock to her.
“Oh, right. I forgot. Logic has no place in this conversation.” Turning to my desk, I trap the phone between my ear and my shoulder and type something into my computer.
I am at work, and while the admin can be lenient about calls as long as we’re not ignoring patrons, I still have plenty to do for the gala.
“You know Mom was happiest in the years Dad was still with us and we were kids. The big happy family, the trips, the game nights, the family dinners. She just wants that for both of us.”
“I’m aware. And nothing says I won’t have that. But I sure as shit won’t find it at one of her ambush set up parties.”
“That’s exaggerating a little,” she mumbles through the phone.
I remain silent and type a little louder.
“Okay, maybe it’s not an exaggeration. But it’s been a while since you’ve had a date.”
“And how would you know that exactly?” It’s not wrong but how the fuck does she know?
“Call it sisterly intuition.”
“I think maybe I’d prefer to call it stalking.” Her scoff has me rolling my eyes.
“We live in a small town, brother dearest. Word gets around. Or maybe in this case doesn’t.”
“I knew I should have moved further away,” I grumble the words but don’t mean them. Much. Living close to my family has its benefits and can be nice. Or certain occasions. This situation, is not one of them. “Besides, I have a date scheduled later this month.”
There’s silence where I expected screaming and I have to look at the phone to make sure we didn’t disconnect.
“Jenn?”
“Sorry, it shocked me. Especially because…later this month? I know it’s been about a decade since I dated but aren’t those usually planned, I don’t know, a few days in advance?
Not weeks?” My sister has been deliriously happy with her husband for twelve years.
It wasn’t until she decided she was done having kids six years ago that Mom started with the set up parties.
“It’s for a work thing.”
“Oh. Well that hardly counts then! You’re not choosing to find someone to bring out. You probably have to bring a date. Right?”
My molars grind together as I tamp down my frustration.
“Does it really matter? It’s a date nonetheless.
Be sure to pass the message to Mom, along with my need to decline her offer to set up mixer number twelve.
And as much as I’d just love to continue this conversation, I have to get back to work. ”
I click the end button before she even has a chance to respond. I’ll get some sort of scathing text letter about my lack of respect and morals and a whole bunch of other things for hanging up on her. But I just couldn’t keep that conversation going a second longer.
An ‘ow’ pulls my attention and the tenseness oozes out of my muscles. A smirk pulls up the corner of my lips as my gaze finds Biannca, rubbing the side of her head absentmindedly while she puts some more books away.
Yes, this date might be for work, but it’s with someone important, and has been a long time coming.