The little dots are back,but this time they’re followed by a message.
Would there be room in that “normal routine” for dinner some time?
With you?
I don’t realizeI’m smiling at my phone until Remi, who apparently is no longer sleeping, calls me out on it.
“What’s funny?Who are you talking to?”
“Oh, Brenda, back at the office.”
I’m not sure why I choose to lie, but I have a feeling my youngest wouldn’t be thrilled to know I was flirting with the guy he so clearly looks up to.
He barely acknowledges my response before jumping to the next subject.
“When is that doctor coming?”
“I’ll have a look.”
With half an eye on my screen—it looks like Clem is composing a lengthy response—I slip out the door and look up and down the hallway to see if I can catch someone to ask.At the far end I spot one of the nurses coming out of a room.
“Excuse me, do you have any idea when Dr.Sharma will be by?”
“He was called into an emergency, but I don’t think he’ll be much longer,” she assures me.
“Thank you.”
I’m about to duck back in when Clem’s message comes through.
Yes, of course with me!You think I’d be asking for a friend?
My friends can fucking well get their own dates.
Damn,I like that man.A little rough around the edges but direct, not some smooth operator with an arsenal of pretty words, but nothing to follow it up with.I get the sense Clem has the goods to deliver on any promises he makes.
So noted.
In that case, yes.
Clem
I’min a good mood all day, right up until that prick walks into my garage.
Don Merrick, Mayor of Silence, and easily the town’s most arrogant and unlikeable asshole.
Can’t stand the man.There’s not a word coming from his mouth that can be taken at face value.You can tell he’s lying when his lips move.A lot of people have come to the realization re-electing his ass was a big mistake.He’s lost a lot of support in the past few years, and I can’t wait for the chance to vote someone else in next year.Hopefully, we’ll have a qualified candidate to run against him, but at this point I’d vote for Angus, Brant Colter’s crazy goat, over Merrick.
“I need my Mercedes looked at right away,” he snaps, without as much as a hello.
I want to tell him to fuck off, since he’s not a regular customer—he likely has his car serviced at the dealership in the city—but am able to restrain myself.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“There’s a knocking sound coming from my engine.”
“What kind of knocking.Is it more of a tap, a clang, or a thud?”
He looks annoyed.
