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“I take it he didn’t feel the same?”
“Well, let’s just say when he accepted my lunch invitation so readily, I thought it was because he might want to reconcile. Turns out, it was more to tell me all the ways his life has been better with me out of it.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “He was a very wounded bear, or whatever.”
“Not gonna ask what that means.” Mark walks toward the living room, pokes his head in. “No tree topper.”
“Still working on it.” I hop down from the counter and put the lid on the leftovers, even though I know I probably won’t eat them. Mark’s right, the chicken wasn’t great, and the rest of the salad’s even worse.
“You need something?” I ask, a little curious as to why he’s stopping by in the middle of the day.
Mark points at the dog. “Ate a chicken wing this morning. Right out of the garbage. Usually it just, um, moves through him. But the vet always says to keep an eye on him while it digests, and I’ve got to get to the restaurant.”
“Sure, I can stay with him for a couple of hours.” I bend down to pet Rigby. “But how long does it take? I’ve got plans tonight.”
Mark opens his mouth, and I get the feeling he wants to ask but realizes he doesn’t quite have the right. We’re close, but we don’t usually demand to know things about each other’s life that the other doesn’t volunteer.
Instead he merely nods. “Should be good by then. If not, Erika can swing by.”
I glance up. “Erika? Bartender at your restaurant Erika?”
He shrugs. “She still has a key.”
“You let your ex keep a key?”
Mark shrugs like it’s no big deal. “What, you’re allowed to make lunch for all your exes, but I can’t even have one of mine check on my dog?”
For one insane moment I want to tell him I’ll cancel my date with Doug and watch Rigby myself. But then I realize if Erika’s not here, she’ll be at the restaurant…
“Is she the reason you and Sheila broke up?” I blurt out.
His look is pure puzzled male. “Is who?”
“Erika,” I say, with what I think is impressive patience.
“Oh. No.” He glances at his watch. “Why?”
“Nothing.”
Look, it’s not that I don’t like Erika. She’s gorgeous and funny and smart, and sort of perfect for Mark in personality, horoscope, and their ridiculous good looks.
But of all of Mark’s ex-girlfriends, Erika Simmons is the one that was the friendliest to me (although I use the word loosely), the least threatened by our relationship, and…the one who came the closest to taking him away from me.
I mean, not really. We were still friends during the two years they dated, but it was different. It’s always a little different when one of us is in a relationship. We have boundaries, we respect our significant others. But with her it was, like, majorly different.
Like, me with Colin different.
She’s also the only ex he’s ever told about his sister, and though I was thrilled that he found someone to confide in, truly, I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t taken me aback a bit.
“Okay, well, whatever,” I say, a little too quickly. “If he hasn’t pooped by the time I go on my date, I’ll drop him off at your place.”
“?’K.”
He heads toward the door, then turns back. “Date?”
“What?”
