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The lips I couldn’t stop staring at since I arrived slid into a telling frown.
“It is. He’s probably just asking for another favor.”
“At least your dad is returning your calls,” I mumbled, swallowing down the bitterness I felt toward my father’s gambling addiction. It tore our family apart, not just financially but emotionally. Snoh and Danielle rarely talked to him and avoided him like the plague at family functions.
“He’s missing out, Vera,” Hart said, sincerity dripping from his lips.
“Yeah… maybe, but I still love him, ya know?”
He nodded resolutely before sighing.
“Same here. I want to hate him, but I know my mother wouldn’t want that for me.”
I was vaguely aware that Hart’s mother passed away when he was young, but I didn’t pry. Losing a parent was heartbreaking, and the last thing I wanted was for both of us to be crying over pilsners and stouts while trading our war stories.
“She sounded like a very kind and forgiving woman.”
He grunted and silenced the call again.
“She was—almost to a fault, and sometimes I wish she weren’t. But then again, I remember how generous she was. She’d give the shirt off her back for anyone,” he said, tugging on that earring again. “I’m sorry. You said no trauma dumping on your bio.”
“You’re not trauma dumping. We’re having a ‘sharing moment’,” I replied, air-quoting the words with my fingers. Hart laughed and wagged a finger at me.
“You’re a bullshitter, Vera. I gotta watch out for you.”
“I like to refer to myself as a finesser.” His phone vibrated again. “You should answer it.”
He shook his head.
“No, I can’t do that. This is supposed to be about me and you getting to know each other and enjoying a nice meal; not family drama. He can wait.”
“He can, but you can’t. If my dad called right now, I’d be distracted for the rest of the evening. Take the call, Hart. I’ll be fine. I need to check in with my roommate to let her know you haven’t killed me and stuffed me in a barrel.”
“Your humor is so dark. I love it,” he praised, standing to his feet. “I’ll be back soon.”
He left, and I fished my phone out of my purse. Sure enough, there was a message from Monica.
Monica: Grand Canyon
I chewed my bottom lip and thought of a celebrity I could use to confirm to my best friend that I was alive and well.
Me: Glenn Close
Monica: Your identity has been verified. How’s it going?
Me: Honestly, I don’t know. I think I spooked him earlier.
Monica: I told you that you were coming off too strong with the gift.
I sent her a crying emoji before answering her incoming call.
“Hello?” I answered regretfully.
“You should’ve listened to me. You’re the sugar baby—not him. He’s the one who should be buying you gifts.”
“In theory, yes, but the earbuds were such a small gift, and he seemed appreciative.”
“Okay, then what’s the issue?”
