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“You get one more turn to knock down the rest,” Judith says as I walk past my seat and continue on.
I tell her to take my turn for me and then I head for the bathroom.
I just need a little break, five seconds to stare at my reflection in the hazy bathroom mirror and assess where my life took such a sharp turn for the worse. I only manage three seconds of my existential crisis before Daisy pushes the door open and joins me.
“I hope you and Lucas are happy,” I say, crossing my arms and meeting her gaze in the mirror.
“About what?”
“Inviting Adam and Tori. Why is he here anyway?”
She steps up and props her hip on the sink beside mine. “Lucas wanted to include him. I think they’re friends or something now.”
“So as his friend, he decided to set him up with Tori?”
She frowns and narrows her eyes, doing her best to pry into my brain. I sigh and turn away, pretending to fix my makeup in the mirror.
“We didn’t want him to feel like the third wheel, so it made sense to invite her.”
“But not me?”
“I tried to invite you, but you shut me down before I could even finish telling you the plan.”
That part I can’t argue with.
“Would you have wanted to be invited?” she asks, poking me in the side.
I snort. “Obviously! Look at how dismal this singles night is. I’d rather be hanging out with you guys than trying to avoid getting caught in that cowboy’s tobacco breath.”
“Ohh, that sucks. He seemed like such a good prospect.”
“He was, right up until he spit a bunch of dip into a cup right in front of me.”
“All right, well, I forbid you from going back. C’mon, come have fun with us. I don’t even really like Tori, and Lucas can barely tolerate her outside the office. I think we’re both regretting asking her to tag along.”
“What about Adam?”
“Huh?”
“Is he annoyed with Tori?”
“I can’t tell. They seem to be talking a lot.”
“Awesome.”
“You’re into him, aren’t you?”
Her question pisses me off, so I don’t bother replying. Instead, I push past her and head out of the bathroom, on a mission to do the one thing I’ve wanted to do all night. Adam is sitting at their lane, checking his phone while Tori takes her turn. I don’t pass go. I don’t collect 200 dollars. I march right up and don’t stop until I’m only a few inches away from him. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his legs, and when he locks his phone and glances up at me, it suddenly feels like I’m too close. I’m almost standing between his knees, but if I back up, I’ll look like a coward. He leans back in his chair, makes no move to shift his legs, and then glances up at me with a self-assured smile.
“Why haven’t you returned my calls?” I ask, my arms crossed as aggressively as possible. “I left you a bunch of voicemails.”
“I called you back.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure you did.”
“I called you this afternoon and left a message on your work phone.”
I can’t verify if that’s true or not; I was showing Mr. Boggs a few houses.
“Right, well, I have no clue if you did leave a message or what you might have said, but here’s the deal, Adam: you’re going to buy a house from me.”
“That was the deal.”
“And you’re not going to feed me any lines about how I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain, because I did. It’s not my fault your mom moonlights as a polygraph examiner.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“And I don’t want to hear any arguments.”
He leans forward and pushes to stand. For two seconds we’re chest to chest, but I cave first and step back, giving us both a little bit of breathing room. Tori is buzzing behind us, trying to get Adam’s attention, but his gaze is on me. His eyes are searing into mine, and my knees are suddenly weak. He takes my elbow and leads me away from the group so we can talk in private. I think it’ll also give me the opportunity to regain some of my personal space, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s right in front of me again. His cologne, his chiseled jaw line—all of it seems to be the best thing I’ve encountered in months.
“Are you listening to me, Madeleine?” he says, his hand still on my elbow. “I’m going to buy a house from you.”
“Oh, right.” I nod, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Good.”
“When do we get started?” he asks, fending off the smile trying to make a comeback on his lips.
“How about tomorrow?” I ask, glancing down at his grip on my arm.
He releases me just before he replies, “Perfect.”
“I’m assuming you’ll need to schedule it in the evening? After you finish seeing patients?”
